#not hurting anyone I’m just a little odd

[its-monster-mash]

Thinking about Bo Sinclair again(never stopped) and I am in PAIN.

Like, how much WEIGHT do you think came off of Bo’s shoulders when his parents died? I mean, we know that the weight of his mother’s abuse is still crushing him given the funeral and how he talks about her.

But I mean in the practical sense—how freeing must it be for Bo to suddenly not be FORCED to do things on other people’s time/demands?

I’m just thinking about his high chair (and the fact that the janky-ass chair in his basement is ALSO old—makes me wonder how old he was when they stopped binding him to things) and like—

I feel as though Bo probably does NOT sit and eat at the kitchen table. Bo probably eats standing, or sitting on the floor, or at a desk in his shop, or in bed(the man is a menace about crumbs I just know it). I just feel like it’s a small freedom that probably at least subconsciously means a lot to him, to be able to do things the way that feels most comfortable to him.

Also I’m imagining a Sinclair Brothers Holiday Dinner and they’re all just laying on the livingroom floor eating because “Fuck a table”. Lester and Vincent can probably eat just fine at a table, but I feel like to have a nice family meal they sit on the floor with Bo and it’s just ritual.

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[ozzgin]

I’m playing ‘This Bed We Made’ and the intro gave me major yandere vibes. This one's a monster version. Content: gender neutral reader, stalking, monster romance

You are the only human employee at a hotel for monstrous guests. It was an unexpected outcome for everyone involved: the staff hadn't considered that a human like you would apply, and you made the mistake of merely skimming through the job ad. You stopped paying attention when you saw the monthly salary.

You realized your mistake when the head manager interviewing you turned out to be a centaur. Then, when the receptionist greeted you with a firm tentacle handshake. And then, the guests kept coming in: creatures whose existence you'd only known in fictional tales, some beyond your imagination.

Despite the initial shock, it's not a bad affair. You spend your shifts cleaning the rooms; making beds, removing slime, waxing scratched furniture, throwing away shed skin. You enjoy the quietness, and the manager is satisfied with your work.

Just one little secret: you love snooping around. You're not hurting anyone with a mere peek, after all. So what if you sometimes check what's inside a guest's suitcase? Or glance into the bedside drawer? Innocent curiosity, and nothing more. It offers you a glimpse of their beastly life, as you've never been this close to monsters before.

Except, well, it seems that the monsters had the same thoughts as you. In one room, you found stacks of photos, each and one of them depicting you. The angles are odd, the focus is blurry: these were taken from nearby hiding spots, capturing your cleaning routine. You shiver and decide to move on. Ah, but the next room...is this the necklace you thought you'd lost? Why is it tucked away under the guest's pillow? As you hurry down the hall, unlocking more doors, you begin to discover unsettling snippets of your own privacy. Detailed plans of your schedule, your path back home, used towels, lost name badges.

You frantically knock on your manager's door, hoping to find a solution. Surely he'll be outraged to know that most of the creatures staying at the hotel have been relentlessly stalking you. He welcomes you with a concerned look, and you sit before his desk, ready to speak. Behind him, on one of the shelves, you spot a camera.

"You have to understand, (Y/N)...It's not a common occurrence to have a human in our presence. The guests mean you no harm, they're just terribly excited to get to know you better."

Won't you do them this one little favor?

[More monsters]

[rockandromancee]

hm-hmm-hm

[deadsetobsessions]

Writing Prompt… kind of? Definitely write more if you want but this was a cute little “fic starter” that popped into my mind.

——

Danny didn’t know the first thing about art. This is an important fact.

“Sam, why am I even here?”

“Suck it up, Casper.”

“The show or the school?” Danny privately thought Casper the Friendly Ghost was the best thing to have come around. It did wonders for improving relations between Amity and inhabitants of the Zone.

Sam smacked him on the arm. “You know which one. You’re just here to be the normie judge. You don’t need to know anything about art.”

“Everyone here is like an art acolyte or something, Sam! I’m an engineering newb in a room full of people with art PhDs!”

Sam rolled her eyes and checked her manicures. “If you call Fenton Works newb level, then the rest of the world would be Neanderthals. Seriously that’s why you’re here. The art’s gotta appeal to the untrained eyes too. I trust your judgement.”

Danny gave in. “Thanks, Sam. That means a lot.” He followed after Sam but after a moment, he whined, “But couldn’t you have taken Tucker? Dude’s got four untrained eyes!”

“He’s busy with his internship. And you were already in Gotham.”

They reach the exhibition, Sam and Danny being welcomed in. Sam’s parents, while not the richest of the rich, were known art connoisseurs and respected people in the communities that dotted around the world. On top of being the descendants of the man that invented the deli toothpick cellophane twirling device, that is. Sam was standing in their place today- begrudgingly- because they’d promised to pay for an entire month of Gotham architecture tours and a trip to Japan. After all, Sam had much of their knowledge too. If anyone could say anything about the Masons, it was that they were passionate in their chosen field. L

“The contestants are in the room next door. The judge panel is beginning.” The person at the door informed them. He gave them a slip of paper and a pen to mark their choices in each field. Danny breathed a sigh of relief and began wandering around.

After he wandered between the oil paintings- “oo, this one. Reason why… the vibes are nostalgic. I like it.”- and the various depictions of a specific ship, Danny was pulled to a stop by his core reaching out. He looked up and what he saw took his breath away.

It was just a photo.

But it felt like he was there, on that rooftop, crouched among the shadows and watching the early rays of muffled light hit the tops of his city. His core thrummed. It felt like protection. It felt like he was being fulfilled, like Danny was once more becoming Phantom and that he was watching over this city he’s beginning to understand.

Danny, almost fevered, scribbled down the name [A Robin’s Nest- by Tim Drake] as his number one choice to win the contest over all. And, at least, to win the first in the photography division.

——

“Oh, Ancients, are you okay?”

Danny had wandered around in the interim as the votes were tallied. He hadn’t been paying attention when he smacked into a little kid that could have been his little brother.

“Uhm. I’m good.”

Danny helped the kid up. “I’m Danny. I’m sorry I smacked into you. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yeah. I’m Timothy Drake. I’m good.”

Danny’s smile widened in shock. “Like the photographer? Oh, wow! I really loved that photo! It was amazing! It felt like I was up there with the vigilantes!”

As he spoke, Danny glanced around for the kid’s designated adults. Hm. That’s odd. Everyone and their parental figure was accounted for.

“Oh.” Timothy flushed. “Thanks! I hoped the judges liked it too.”

Danny smiled, a small secretive thing. “Oh, I’m sure they will. Will you tell me more about your photography?”

“Oh, if you want!”

——

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru

satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.

“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”

“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.

it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.

satoru is not handling it well.

“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”

“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”

oh dear.

“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”

“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”

suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.

you think this might be the end.

“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”

“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”

“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.

“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”

“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”

“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”

satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.

you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”

suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.

not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.

“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”

“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.

“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.

“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.

“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”

“hey, leave my hair out of this—”

“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.

suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.

“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”

“he is not—”

“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”

suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”

“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”

you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.

i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[bambiimutt]

He makes you cry during an Argument.

Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..

ೃ࿔*:･

Headcannons and short stories under the cut!

ೃ࿔*:･

TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!

Jeffrey Hodex:

- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.

-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.

-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.

-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”

-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.

-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.

-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.

Tobias Rogers

- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.

- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?

-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.

-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.

-Ben Lawman/drowned

- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.

-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.

- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.

-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.

- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.

ೃ࿔*:･

“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.

-Masky/ Tim Wright

- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.

- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.

-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.

- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.

ೃ࿔*:･

“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.

Hoodie/ Brian Thomas

-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.

-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.

-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.

-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.

-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.

-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.

ೃ࿔*:･

“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (pt 2)

This one actually is edited thanks to @basementqueercock! Thank you friend!

part 1 | Masterpost

-------

Vlad had been making a stink at the Gala about the Wayne brats taking his godson from him without his permission when the music suddenly cut out. Bruce Wayne himself stalked towards Vlad with an expression that was honestly a little intimidating, even if Vlad obviously wasn’t scared of such an empty headed pretty boy even if he was one of the richest and most influential people on the planet. He was Plasmius! He could take a rich pretty boy is he had to!

“Ah! Mr. Wayne, thank goodness! Your children have taken my Godson off somewhere! I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank but he’s a bit fragile and unpredictable so I really think that it would be best if-“

“Is he fragile and unpredictable because he’s pregnant and you knew?” Bruce asked low and dangerous. Silence spread out around them, even though there’s no way they could have heard they saw the look on Brucie’s face. He rarely got angry but when he did it was serious, when he did it usually meant someone had hurt a kid.

Vlad blanched for a moment, Danny had been so tight lipped about it, so unwilling to tell even those he trusted how did These people know?! “What? What on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s not pregnant, I mean he’s a boy!” Vlad huffed and Bruce’s jaw tightened even more somehow.

“He’s not leaving with you. Get out.” He said low and menacing, then raised his voice. “Sorry to cut the party short everyone but something has come up, a situation that really needs my attention so I’m going to have to put an end to the party early.”

“What do you mean!? He’s MY God son! MY heir! You can’t just keep him from me!” Vlad said, he knew that his eyes were starting to glow a little red but he couldn’t help it. “He’s MINE! Return him to me or you will regret it I swear!”

“See him out.” Bruce said dismissively to a handful of guards who had approached at the start of the commotion A lot of the socialites were already starting to see themselves out, now was not the time to argue, or even stick around when it looked like this might get physical.

“I will be back! I will be back with lawyers and police and the brat’s parents,” Vlad vowed but couldn’t risk fighting the guards any more than a usual old man would on the way out with so many eyes on him. Well he just needed to find a place alone. Then he could transform and come back, possess Bruce Wayne and make him do something heinous in public to ruin him for this.. this- this INDIGNITY!

-------

Bruce was having a hard time keeping his Batman expressions off his face as he saw that everyone was out of his house and he knew his children were having the same trouble. Dick looked like he was ready to bash someone’s head in and Steph wasn’t that much better. Damian was standing by the door, seeing everyone out with frosty politeness that no one would mistake as genuine. Bruce felt just a little bad, it wasn’t anyone’s fault what they had found tonight. No one else knew about the clearly abused teen they were currently harbouring, but none of the family could help it either. Bruce would send all the guests gift baskets once they could announce what was going on.

Alfred was on the phone with Bruce’s lawyers, sending them the mildly distorted audio from Danny’s earlier conversation with Cas and Dick, and the footage from Vlad Master’s outburst. That had the same sort of distortion over it too which was odd, he’d have to look into it. Cas had already informed him she thought Danny was a meta of some sort, maybe it was connected to that? Or maybe they were aliens? Though Danny being trans was currently the most plausible explanation for his pregnancy. They’d find out more later. What mattered was the footage of both of those would be enough for Bruce to get emergency custody while the family was investigated. 

Tim was with Danny in the room Alfred had fixed for him, helping him settle in and lending him some clothes. Tim was the closest to Danny’s age and also one of the calmer ones right now so he was in charge of trying to make Danny feel safe and comfortable while the family took up battle stations to deal with the legal and logistical elements of this.

Bruce made sure everyone was out, the perimeter was secure, and Oracle was at her computer watching the security feed for anything suspicious including the pattern of distortion Vlad and Danny seemed to emit. He wasn’t sure how paranoid he should be about all this, but he’d seen the way Vlad’s eyes sparked red when he was angry and Batman was sure he was a lot more dangerous then he first seemed. And not just in the way that he was apparently willing to impregnate a boy young enough to be his son.

Finally he couldn’t avoid going to check on Danny anymore. Not that he was Really avoiding it, just that he knew this was going to be an exhausting and difficult conversation and he needed to brace himself for it. With every step towards Danny’s new room he felt the weight gather on his shoulders of what this child must have been through.

He knocked, and let himself in. Immediately clocking the way Danny tensed at the sight of him. Of course a rich older man would set off his alarm bells. Bruce gave the softest smile he could and went to pull out the desk chair across from the bed Danny was sitting on, well out of arms reach so he wouldn’t seem like a threat as he sat down. He glanced at Tim who nodded and went and sat on the bed next to Danny. Solidarity, willing to stand up against Bruce if Danny needed it, safety.

“Hello Danny, it’s nice to meet you. My children told me a bit about.. your situation,” Bruce said with a small grimace. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions? I promise I won’t judge you whatever you say, and I promise I am on your side. No matter what I will try to keep you safe okay? Just tell me the truth, it’ll help me do what needs to be done.”

“Alright Mr. Wayne,” Danny said, though he was still wary.

“Thank you, please call me Bruce. So first, what’s your full name?” he asked deciding to start super easy.

“Daniel James Fenton,” Danny replied softly.

“Your parents names?”

“Doctors Madeline and Jack Fenton,” Huh the fact that he called his parents doctor like it was part of their name seemed to be significant though Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 16,” He said. A little older than he looked but still no where near old enough to have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did.

“And you’re pregnant?” Bruce asked as gently as he could, Danny nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Danny said softly and Bruce nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Did you take a test then?” He asked and Danny grimaced making a so so motion.

“It’s not… that simple,” He said softly.

“Can you explain it to me please?” Bruce asked softly.

Danny took a deep breath and licked his lips, hesitating, opening his mouth to stat, hesitating again and biting his lip. Bruce stayed quiet as he watched the conflict on Danny’s face. “You work with the justice league right?” Danny asked suddenly which seemed like a bit of a non sequitur to Bruce but he needed. “A bunch of the members aren’t human right?” Ah, Bruce nodded again. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am Danny,” Bruce promised, soft and reassuring. “People don’t have to be human or from earth to be people. Whatever is going on with you you’re still a person, and a kid, and deserve to be protected.”

“Okay,” Danny said as he scrutinized Bruce’s body language for any sign that he was lying. “Okay. I’ve never been able to trust any adults with this shit but I can’t keep doing this on my own so okay. I’m not human, not fully anyway, not anymore. These are..” He touched his stomach. “Like if you did an ultrasound you wouldn’t see embryos more like… Hang on Here.”

Bruce blinked as Danny suddenly, reached Inside himself, and before he could panic Danny had pulled out a perfectly round object that filled his palm. It shimmered with light from within, cold and sparkling with stars. “Our kind is more energy and light then anything else. This is Us, the mind, heart, everything we are is stored in our core the rest is formed around that. I mean for most of my kind, I’m still half human.” Danny said before replacing the orb inside him. “I have two other little cores inside me right now, feeding on my energy to develop properly, you could see them on an Xray. I don’t know how long they’ll take honestly.” He sighed caressing his stomach again.

 “But I can feel them inside me, I can feel their worry when I’m scared, and their joy when I’m happy, and their love. They’re my babies.” He said with the softest most paternal smile on his lips. The bags under his eyes were awful, he was clearly exhausted and stressed, but his expression told Bruce Danny thought it was all going to be worth it for his children. It brought a lump to his throat he had to clear before he could speak again.

“Okay, do you have access to healthcare appropriate for your.. species?” He asked and Danny nodded. Though he was tight lipped still.

“There are protections for non-human species in America you know,” Tim said.

Bruce and Tim exchanged a confused look as Danny barked a laugh. “Not for MY kind, we were specifically excluded,” He said with a wry curl to his lips. “The shadow or echo left behind when a proper human dies, not sentient or sapient they say. Malicious and dangerous they say. To be captured or exterminated on sight. They would take me, experiment on me, probably put my babies in jars or something.”

Oh, oh fuck, he was shaking, eyes blank and glassy like he was heading towards a panic attack. “Danny! Danny look at me,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and Danny’s gaze flicked up to his face. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they don’t get you. You’re clearly not what they say, and anyone who would hurt a child is not the good guy in this story.”

“Who are they?” Tim asked with an expression that promised swift and vicious retribution.

Danny took another deep breath. “The GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward. They’re a government agency, they’ve been hunting in my hometown for a while. Early on we tried to call the Justice Legue, but I think they were jamming the lines or something,” Danny said looking down and biting his lip.

Fuck this poor kid really couldn’t catch a break! Bruce was sure that the ‘ghosts’ these idiots were hunting weren’t really anything of the sort, but he would look into this and see what he could find. Tim was clearly itching to as well bad he wasn’t willing to leave Danny alone with Bruce, good lad.

“And what about your parents? Do you think you could be safely returned to their home?” Bruce asked, as much as he wanted to keep Danny reunification was supposed to be the goal of fostering.

“No!” Danny nearly yelped sitting up straight. “No! They work for the GIW! They design most of their weapons. If they ever found I’d been contaminated- I don’t want to think the worst of them but even if they still recognized me as their son the babies-“ He cut off, wrapping both his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself.

“Okay, we’ll call child protective services, my lawyer, and the Justice League. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bruce promised Danny. “And you can stay here as long as you need to. Is there any other family you would want to go to?” Bruce asked, just to be sure, but he wasn’t surprised when Danny shook his head and grabbed a pillow to hug.

“And I know Oracle and Red Robin will be itching to find out more about this ‘government agency’,” Tim said. “I want to go tell them Danny, if Bruce and I go will you be okay on your own or do you want me to ask Cas to come stay with you?”

“Cas please? If she’s not busy?” Danny asked uncertainly and Tim nodded. Bruce was getting up before Danny spoke up again. “I have a sister, Jazz. She knows about me not being fully human, but not about the babies. She’s a good person, and she’s almost an adult. I don’t know, I just need you to know she’s good, and I don’t want to mess things up for her,” Danny said worriedly.

“Of course Danny, thanks for letting me know,” Bruce said with a smile already making plans to get her out as well. “We’ll let you know as soon as there are developments.” He promised before both he and Tim ducked out. They split up, Tim going to find Cas and ask her to go back to Danny before they reconvened in the bat cave, they had a lot of research to do.

next>

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “WINTER FEVER SURE SUCKS, DOESN’T IT?”

— #. synopsis. this annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture.

— #. content warning! surprisingly none, dirty thoughts, yearning and pining, sloppy blowjob, fluff in all its worth, blushy male robin, feverish male reader and just boys helping each other out, is all.

— #. word count? 3.8k words.

— #. extra extra! ashes snippets : “blowjobs cure your fevers and keep the illnesses away. trust me, I’m a professional doctor.”

Carefully tending to your every whims and needs has always been a part of Robin’s unnamed responsibilities, whether verbally spoken so or not. Each and every one of the naive, little orphans instinctively knew who to call upon when faced with another of your clumsy accidents, an accidental slip of your feet — you’d bashfully say, a muttered ‘sorry’ wistfully whispered beneath your huffed breaths and flushing cheeks.

Perhaps, as a poorly-expressed means of a genuine apology for your inborn inattentiveness, that odd, natural skill of yours you unfortunately possessed to repeatedly find shady trouble in every narrow corner of this filthy town. To be Immediately roped into the worst of situations and somehow, come out somewhat unscathed every time.

Maybe if it were to be anyone else, Robin’s cheery mask would’ve eventually slipped past to give forth to the gradual frustration of the instilled obligation he’s readily set upon himself. This annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. Yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture. Tirelessly complain? How could he when you’d appear so pitifully before him, the subtlest of pouts adorning your rosy lips whenever you’d tearfully gaze up at him, falsely claiming that it didn’t hurt that much because surely, it really did. God, such a clutz, aren’t you? And honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Every slight stumble and fall would simply be accompanied by his awaiting, helping hand to discreetly soften the landing, cheekily embrace you within his arms.

So, you see — this isn’t any different for him either, not when paired by this lucky opportunity set in place which, he hates to truthfully admit the mere fact that merely gazing at your weakened state sometimes, obtains certain.. reactions from him — from his body, precisely. Listen, he doesn’t mean to subconsciously widen his sat stance atop the wooden chair, make some much needed, accommodating room for his twitching cock noticeably stirring beneath his pants. Really, it’s an instinctual urge like any other man, y’know? And well, despite the known moral etiquette that he should be plainly feeling guilty for secretly getting off to your undeserving suffering here, he can’t possibly help himself, can he? Your fault for being so resistant yet, so weak.

Hence the pathetic position you now currently find yourself in, puffed breaths along with a blazing flush across your cheeks, one that Robin finds to suit you very well. Slicked droplets of sweat steadily trickling down the crook of your neck, softened features normally bright as his, now contorted to a blatant show of pain. Strands of hair attentively brushed out of the way so that he may periodically apply a fresh, new cloth onto your sweaty forehead in hopes of cooling your feverish temperature away. Obscene that he’s grown used to the routine of doting upon you every single, chilly winter cuz’— simply put, you get sick pretty easily.

Namely, he’d like to softly reprimand you for your lack of care for your own self, utter out once more that you should’ve properly bundled yourself up in a thickly knitted scarf or some layered jacket to brace for the pristine white snow and shivering breeze.

Though, of course, as per usual, you hadn’t actually listened to his common advice, so evidently, you’ve come down with a heated fever, rightfully reaping the eventual consequences of your thoughtless actions which he hates to say. Forcing him to— no, truthfully, he consciously chose to faithfully stay by your side till you’d get better. A bit of a slow healer though, that’s the thing. As an entire full week has now officially passed by, a week where he has not gone once to school considering your ailed state. Profusely tumbling out a series of muttered apologies, insistently nudging at him that instead of peering so precariously over you like he is right now, that he should be sat in class instead, intently listening to the teacher’s boring lesson or something.

“Really, you don’t have to. I, uh— ah, am just fine on my own, y’know. You don’t have to worry over me, Robin. It’s just a few hours and anyways, I don’t want you failing school cuz’ of me.” Blatantly uttering out falsehoods when in reality, he’s acutely aware of your quickening breaths, glazed over eyes barely focusing on his blurring figure and, ah.. shit, why’re you so pretty when you’re sick? Not that you normally aren’t, just that— maybe, the feverish haze settled upon you accentuated certain part of your features like your pouty lips sinfully glistening with your own spit, little, tentative swipe of your pink tongue poking out whenever you need to moisten the edges of those chapped lips. Wonder what it’d feel like coyly wrapped around his— ah, cut it out, Robin! Holy thoughts, holy thoughts.. Just like Sydney, right. They’d never think such a thing if faced with a sick, heaving boy. Seriously, he should be composing himself.

“School’s not important right now. You are. I’m not leaving till you fully get better and no matter what you tell me, I’m staying here, ‘kay?” Stubborn as a mule, two people set at opposite sides where one will not relent for the other. Typical argument of yours that involves your unconvincing insistence that you’re indeed okay whereas he will point out otherwise.

“Now, stop worrying about me, silly. Class can wait if it means I get to take care of you.” Hastily choking up at the involuntary confession he may or may not have brazenly unveiled his actual feelings for you— ah, did you notice? ..Yeah, no. So oblivious to your surroundings it sometimes frustrates him, but he can’t truly be upset with you for long, perceiving it more as an endearing trait he can poke fun at than an inherent flaw.

“..Fine. I guess if you say you want to stay then you can.. But I seriously owe you a favour for this.” Smiling gleefully at your reluctant act of conceding with a huffed pout, content in his momentary victory to tenderly dote upon you some more. “Mm? You wanna repay me?” That’s a funny thought, you, actually expressing your gratitude for him when he’s been acting more like a coddling mother excessively worrying over her child than anything else — not that he wouldn’t openly accept the idea of you fulfilling a favour for him. Question is, what exactly?

Subtly scanning over the sight of your curled frame underneath the woollen covers, curled fist loosely held onto the material and god, it makes his heart ache to single-handedly witness you being so cute in front of him. Without you even knowing, too. Instinctually trailing over the outline of your lower body below the blankets, skittishly being brought up once more to intently gaze at your bed riddled self.

Well, he’s got an idea maybe, of what to ask.. That’d be too bold though, wouldn’t it? Just friends or more like foster brothers to each other, even if the heat pooling in the core of his tummy is whispering out tell-tale lies. No friend of such should be secretly viewing theirs in a lewd manner, should be shamefully fisting their weeping cock late at night while their shirt is carelessly held back by their clenching teeth bitten between it. Muffling their stifled moans, desperately pumping their cock stupid, collecting the accumulated drool of pre at the tip to pervertedly slide down to the base with a wet squelch! all the while thinking of their supposed ‘friend’. Yeah, a friend is what you’d so cheerfully call him, ever since childhood, you’ve only had each other amongst the mess of an orphanage you’re miserably forced to live in by your cold-hearted caretaker.

However, would it be so bad if he were to consider you as more? Tentatively steer you in the other direction if you were to collectively see him in the same light as he does— “Robin? Can I have some water? ..Please?” Cutting his spiralling calculations abruptly with the timid lilt in your voice, almost shy of solely relying on another to be given something to drink. How you wholly depend on him sometimes for the simplest of tasks, unable to do anything or so, you frantically claim. Hurriedly interrupting his track of thoughts with a meek request and, how could he not obligate to your every whim? You’re only deserving of it, after all.

“Y-Yeah, of course.” Last of things he should be doing is envisioning stuff like sickeningly taking advantage of your bed riddled position, most definitely helpless in stopping him if he were to try.. anything, at all. Hah, no better than those lustful monsters that reside in this town, sneakily hide themselves amongst the shadows. Endless times he’s routinely walked to and back from school with you as per usual, only to encounter another one of those disgusting creeps that’d shamelessly try to land their filthy paws onto your untouched body, disgustingly slobber all over you as though they were deserving of the slightest sliver inch of skin from you. And yes, there is the slight tremor apparent in his voice when he’s actively telling them off in favour of protecting of you, but that’s precisely it. You’re enough of a reason for him to confidently fight back, take a stand even with the apparent wobble in his knees.

Truly, those hands of yours that find themselves clasping at his once the whole ordeal is fortunately over, beaming face filled with admiration is why he does it. Enough with the constant reminiscing however, dutifully reaching for a bottle of water set onto the oaky dresser, hesitating noticeably in his next actions to curiously gaze back at your awaiting mouth. “Want me to hold it for you?” Isn’t he simply enabling your unprompted, lazy behaviour? Bound to turn you spoiled if this readily keeps up, doesn’t mean he still won’t do it.

A subtle nod of your head to his gentle suggestion is all it takes, swiftly uncapping the bottle cap off before directing it towards your parted lips, palm decisively placed along your jaw, carefully titling your head backwards into the cushioned pillow to ease in on your swallowing. Noisy gulps accompanied by the rhythmic bobbing of your fragile throat, sluggishly drinking it all down with a satisfied sigh. Thing is, he shouldn’t be staring so intently at all these intricate details nor particularly zeroing in on the barely noticeable droplet of water that spilled past those moist lips, really— this is going beyond well-intentioned admiration and more like, borderline obsession.

Still, it’s just.. helping, is it not? It’s not like he’s physically harming you in any shape or form when his eyes lovingly peer upon you for a moment longer, stray hand instinctively coming to wipe away at the wet sweat built up there. Lingering contact, just helping in every sense of the word, that’s all it is! Thumb swiping lower to rest upon the gap between your parted lips, right where the wet warmth he so fervently seeks out is, digit dipping shyly with a shaky inhale at the sheer sensation that greets him— A wet and ready mouth, so easily pliable, mouldable for a fat cock that’d happen to be consequentially slipped inside, by chance. Drooling little baby you’d be, looking so very stupid with a mouthful of cock promptly shoved down the rewarding tightness of your throat.. You wouldn’t mind, would you?

At the end of the day, as so often told by many as a shabby excuse for their unforgiving actions — which he, himself, is no better of, at the moment — he’s nothing, but a man. Horny hormones offset from the mere, close proximity he shares with you, his crush, within this narrow space and time. Cock annoyingly straining against the rough fabric of his pants, hopefully palming at the hot, twitching bulge beneath your field of vision — or perhaps, truthfully he wants you to actually see him. Plainly witness the downright degeneracy of his current actions, heated palm clumsily circling over his red, leaking tip frustratingly covered by the material of his jeans, huffing over your bare form as though he’s solely being restrained by the horrifying idea of cold rejection on your part.

Cmon, won’t you rightfully take responsibility for what you’ve done to him? Having him just as equally heated as you over here, dangerously peering at the edge of his chair to unintentionally tower over your confused, oblivious self. See, the weight of those fluttering eyelashes, how you don’t even try to coldly discard his affectionate touch, borderline inappropriate one too — in fact, welcoming it as you subconsciously lean into the cup of his soft palm?? Surely, that’s shamelessly asking for it, a hidden sign of your reciprocation of his sentiments in return. Or so, his self-deluded mind dumbly convinces himself of such.

It’s the meek “Robin?” that stills him, curious eyes peering up at him with a quizzical cock of your head, veiled worry making its way past your strained features in a subtle questioning of if he’s alright. “Something wrong?” Oh, if only you knew that, yeah— something is indeed very wrong, knee now cautiously placed atop the bed, squeaking mattress dipping lower, distinct creak audibly heard throughout the four corners of the walls surrounding you both. Good, think he locked the wooden door nearby and it’s not like.. any younger orphan might upsettingly interrupt you two nor walk in, lest they actually want to be terrifyingly face to face with an angry Robin for once in their lives. A rare occurrence.

“Huh? O-Oh, well— I was just wondering about what you’ve said before. Y’know, owing me a favour for taking care of you and all..” Idly scratching at the back of his neck in a habitual instinct to soothe the spiking nervousness rendering him dizzy, hitched breath faltering in its smooth flow to ponder, briefly hesitate over his next few words. How exactly should he even go about this..? Discreetly hinting is sure not to successfully work if taking into account your naive innocence, albeit adorable to him — sometimes, is unintentionally setting himself up in the inevitable scenario of being direct. Shy as he might be, at times, specially flustered in the presence of you, Robin still determinedly carries on with a drawn out sigh, hovering over your laid frame ever so slightly to satisfyingly catch that split-second, shift of your incredulous expression.

“Is it fine if I use it now? I mean, what I’d really like for you to do right now, is.. take care of this for me. I-If you want to do that.” Swallowing thickly as your inquisitive eyes intently follow his pointed finger, direction openly set onto the growing bulge instinctually twitching in turn from your gaze heavily set upon it, his evident hard-on humiliatingly on display just for you. “Please. I-I just— ah, fuck..” Look at you, how you decidedly waste no time in readily obeying to his flustered request, seamlessly move onto your side where your head is sweetly nestled between the gap in his willingly spread thighs. “..You’re really doing it— hah.” Huffing, nuzzling and nosing along the visible outline of his bulge jutted against your squished cheek, appearing so goddamn pure despite the undeniable fact that you’re— ah, shit.. pervertedly inhaling the musky scent of his fat cock throbbing insistently underneath the layer of clothing, crudely smelling him in such a dirty place before your cute hands come to rest atop the surface of his hips. Slowly unzipping him free to give way to his drooling cock staining a wet patch of pre below the fabric of his boxers, pink, swiping tongue dampening the stain in shade from your little kitten licks.

Suckling attentively on the flushed tip right below his underwear, thin layer of cloth merely separating your skillful tongue from making actual contact with the pulsing flesh of his cock. Where’d you even learn to do such a thing and how did you even— accept so easily to the stumble of his awkward request? Graciously went along with it as if he were simply asking you to fetch some water from the cooling fridge in the kitchen, eyes reflexively shut in a soft hum of appreciation at the responsive twitch you receive from his cock in response to every careful lick. “I guess, it’s only natural to help each other as boys, right? Whatever you want, Robin, I’ll offer you it.” Whispering out so selflessly, fully handing him the ability to maneuver this entire situation to his liking and if that means having you so lewdly strip him down to his bare form, then so be it.

“Y-You really don’t have to.. ah—“ Promptly interrupted by a sharp hiss as his cock is suddenly freed from the annoyingly tight confines of his underwear, crudely smacking against the tender skin of your cheek with a resounding, wet slap! that it further fuels his fluster at the sheer noise. Pearly pre-cum naturally smeared across your face and, fuck— you’re not the least bit bothered by it, being sinfully tainted by his fluids stained upon your body and here you are, teasingly running your rosy tongue flat along the veiny underside of his throbbing shaft before finally, reaching forward to suck up all the salty, oozing pre accumulated at the head.

“But I wanna, Robin.” Stop calling out his name affectionately like that, he’ll really bust a load before you even get to sucking him off! Muttering out so sweetly, absently stroking the base of his cock with your curled fist tight around the girth, a rhythmic up-and-down motion to meanly draw out more beads of sticky fluid, lazily trickling down his quivering length. “You always take care of me and, hah— I think it’s only fair that I return the favour too. I wanna.. thank you for being so nice to me all the time, even if I’m a handful, huh?” Hand coming to rest atop your soft head at the generous gesture you’ve so nicely offered him now, caressing through the stray strands of hair, lovingly brush it out of the way so that he may obtain a better view of your half-lidded eyes, intent on getting him off. “So, let me. Let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

Ah, seriously.. Stubborn as always and he can’t help, but to let himself selfishly indulge deeper in this sweet act, widening thighs accommodating you along with his knees firmly planted at each side of your bobbing head, dizzying squelch! of your translucent spit coming to meld with the thick globs of pre. How is it that someone can appear so dutiful, merely carrying out one’s favour when you’re stupidly slobbering all over his balls? Wet, welcoming heat of your mouth— ah, god— pouty lips snugly wrapped around the pulsing girth of his length, obscenely taking him into the base as you automatically repeat the process. Poking tongue playfully alternating between light drags of it across the tip to then coat it once again in the warm depths of your throat.

Though perhaps what comes second to the sheer, slippery heat engulfing the entirety of his cock are the tell-tale signs, lulled whispers of your shared arousal, mindlessly gettin’ yourself off from sloppily sucking him off. Little, cute cock provokingly poking out, smearing a stained mess against the cotton sheets from the pathetic, adorable act of humping yourself stupid along the cushioned mattress. Ah, does having another man’s cock in your mouth, preferably your best friend too — get you off that much? Sucking in a sharp, held breath, gaze observingly fixated on the subtle bounces of your cock with every gentle movement, curve of your arched back laid on its side. “..You’re hard.” He evidently remarks the obvious, normally clear voice coming out all strangled in a stifled groan as your glistening lips instinctively tighten ‘round him to spare him a brief glance of your own.

“..Shut up.”You huff out, not necessarily meaning it cuz’ yeah— you are hard and it’s clear as day as to why. Resuming on with your actions, suckling on one of his taut balls before ultimately letting go with a wet pop! Thin strings of saliva connected to the flesh of your puffy lips, clumsily stroking the rest that your small mouth cannot pitifully reach. Natural reaction is all it is! Same goes for the embarrassing fact that he’s already so fucking close, so close to shooting a straight load down your tight, little throat. Busting his fat seed and surely, you’ll— you’ll swallow it, right??

A stammered hitch in his speech, stuttering hips jolting in tandem with each and every one of your sucks, savouring the feel of his fat cock deep inside your drooling mouth. “A-Ah— wait— I’m, fuck— I’m cummin’—“ Head thrown back, eyes reflexively rolling to the back of his skull which his fingers can’t help to follow on, entangling themselves in the mess of your hair, cruelly sticking you there as he suddenly busts a whole fucking load right down your throat, white ropes of cum spurting past your lips — messily drip over the clean sheets below. Spilling his cum to coat the insides of your mouth all sticky with his seed and truly, he didn’t mean to! Or maybe, he did. As downright, secretly perverted that he is in wanting to bear witness to your eventual ruin. Pretty sight of your chin all tacky and white, dribbling droplets of his fluids all over your shocked face. Ah, he’s gotta be doin’ this again, one way or another.

No time to waste one baseless apologies and such, for having staining you in the filth of his essence— No, those are all past Robin’s mind as he impulsively throws himself onto you like some wild animal, forcibly pins you down below his heaving figure with that familiar, cheeky smile. Plainly chuckling at the stifled whine of protest that draws out of you, settling his position so that he may instead, comfortably rest between the plush of your spread thighs. “Robin! W-What’re you doin’??”

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll clean you up and make it all up to you later. Promise.” He furtively repeats, not exactly meaning it, but can you blame him when an awaiting cock is being so painfully neglected here? And, he’s consciously certain that you won’t refuse his gesture, not with that drawled out whine as he easily pops your cock between his glossy lips, eyes appreciatively fluttered shut to savour the taste of you. Etch it to memory.

Promise he’ll make it up to you in the way he knows most, tenderly inquiring you with one single question he’s all too keenly aware of the answer to. Bright, doe eyes, ruffled brown hair and that boyish grin you’ve seen him in time and time again. As you know him best. “But.. you haven’t cum yet, have you?”

As you’ve stated before, it’s just boys helping each other out, right?

[sweetangelgirl7]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝜗𝜚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 & 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 after a fresh new start, away from your toxic past, you’re met with the boy next door — your ex boyfriend’s brother.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, unprotected, creampie, oral (male & female receiving), and more filth

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.1k!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: golden rubbers in these denim pockets 🎧 hiii loves! this fic is completely inspired by the song and mv for “she” by tyler the creator & frank ocean (without all the creepy stuff). i love this song sm, the first half of the mv is the overall vibe for this one. this may be one of my favorites, it’s definitely a little long but it’s SMUTTY, so enjoy!

squeezing through the boxes piled high in the back of the moving truck, you sifted through endless amounts of cardboard trying to find the right ones holding your things. finally getting your hands on one, you managed to pull the box, that seemingly weighed a thousand pounds, between your arms, carrying it carefully down the ramp to the street in front of the new house.

you didn’t want to move, no one ever really wants to move away from their childhood home, but it was inevitable. a fresh new start never hurt anyone, anyways. after all, it was what you desperately needed after these last few months.

you struggled to hold the oversized box between your arms, overflowing with all the useless things you still held onto. the weight of the box began to slip between your perspiring arms before you finally gave up, setting it down on the pavement. standing up straight to stretch your back after nearly pulling a muscle, you glanced down the empty street that you now called home.

the houses were lined up perfectly, all unique in their own way yet perfectly blending together. your house was at the end of the street, sitting on the right side of the cul-de-sac. looking across the way, your eyes raked over the houses circling the street as a burst of noise caused your attention to land on the one across the street, right in front of your own.

stumbling out of the front door was a group of three boys as the sound of their teasing and laughing amongst each other filled the silent street. while two of the boys made their way to the car parked in the driveway, you watched as the the other was still locking the door behind him.

finally snapping out it — not wanting to stare and make an awful first impression on your new neighbor, you attempted to pick the box back up between your arms as you lifted it from the ground.

standing up straight once more, your gaze locked onto the brunette boy across the street as he finally turned away from the door, revealing a face you knew all too well — the face that broke your heart, time and time again. the face you had hoped to leave behind, one of few the reasons you had found solace in moving away.

your heart dropped to your stomach in sync with the box crashing to the street, the sharp sound of glass shattering inside breaking the sudden silence. "fuck" you whispered under your breath, scrambling to retrieve the fallen box as your eyes dropped instantly to the ground.

“everything alright?” a voice shouted from across the street, although, it was a voice you weren’t familiar with. the other two boys were already inside of the car, waiting for the other, so you automatically attached it to the brunette.

you couldn’t gather the courage to look up, nor did you want to look up. how was this even possible? the boy you finally managed to leave weeks ago, with absolutely no contact, had somehow found you standing right before him once again. what are the odds, just your fuckin’ luck, huh?

you couldn’t speak, pretending to attend to the broken items inside of the open box as you frantically attempted to conceal your face and look busy, acting as if you didn’t hear his voice.

“need a hand?” he asked again, although his voice was nearly right in front of you now as you watched his shoes walk into your view of the pavement.

“i’m good” you mumbled, your eyes still glued to the ground as you miserably attempted to find any shred of strength left to pick the box back up. god, how pathetic you probably looked.

crouching on his knees, he reached down to pick up the box before you with ease. his arms wrapped completely around the box, you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his crewneck that hiked up his forearms.

now you were left even more confused — unless he’d hit the tattoo shop the second after you broke up, there was no possible way it was chris. was it? although, you weren’t wearing your glasses. maybe it wasn’t chris, you thought, looking for any excuse to just dismiss it as your imagination deceiving you.

“i got you, no worries” he reassured as he stood in front you still crouched down on your knees. as right now would be the perfect time to stand up — you couldn’t, you were too afraid to look him in the eyes.

“everything good down there?” he chuckled sarcastically after a moment, looking down at you as your hair fell over your face to conceal your features. you managed to let a nervous laugh roll off your lips as there was absolutely nothing else left to say or do to get out of this.

standing up, you nervously tucked your hair behind your ears as your eyes trailed up his lower half and onto the oversized box snuggled between his arms. you nearly flinched waiting for one of chris’ snarky comments but it remained silent as the air hung still

why hasn’t he said anything by now?

surely, he would have said something by now, anything.

finally gathering the courage to fully look up at his face, your eyes trailed over his features in slight relief and utter confusion as you scanned over every last detail. he looked so much like chris, yet nothing like him at all — at the same time.

your lips were cracked open in hesitation as you stumbled to find the words, looking between his eyes as he raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “what?” he chuckled again, flashing his teeth while laughing at your uncertainty as the smile lines deepened in his cheeks — he was so handsome, in different ways than chris.

“something in my teeth?” he teased, licking his tongue flat against the top row of his teeth as you shook your head through a laugh.

“no” you smiled as he had your complete undivided attention now, your gaze completely fixed on him and every little detail that created his pretty face. “you just look familiar ‘s all.” you shook your head, knowing good and well that he looked much more than just ‘familiar.’

he nodded his head, shifting the weight of the box between his arms. “i get that a lot.” he pursed his lips before hiking his knee up under the box to hold it still as he held his hand out for you. “matthew” he smiled.

matthew.

for the months you were together, chris never mentioned a matthew. neither did he mention having siblings, yet alone any who looked nearly identical to him. maybe he was just a cousin with insanely strong genes in the family. although, thinking back on it, he never really wanted to talk about his personal life at all.

“nice to meet you, mathew” you smiled after briefly introducing yourself, reciprocating the handshake with a stiff hand.

"want me to take this inside?" he asked, his grip on your hand lingering longer than any usual handshake.

𝜗𝜚

a flash of lightning briefly illuminated your room through the curtains as you found yourself sitting on the boy next door’s lap. your legs straddled matt’s as he lay beneath you, his head near the foot of your bed. leaning forward, you slowly trailed your hands up and down the fabric of the white tank covering his chest.

you finally managed to have the house to yourself, inviting him over rather than sneaking out through the window for the past couple of nights.

looking down at matt lying against your pink bedding, you trailed your fingers across his jaw as he stared up at you. you didn’t know how to feel about this whole situation and you definitely didn’t know how to bring up the thing that had been eating at you since you first met — the “thing” being chris. however, you didn’t let those thoughts linger long as matt had quickly found his way between your sheets since then.

“what’s a matter princess?” matt asked, tracing his ringed fingers over your thighs as his eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you in the dim light of your room.

shaking your head, you managed to force a smile as you brushed the messy curls away from his eyes. “nothing” you pulled the fake smile farther up your lips, lying through your teeth. “just feeling kinda down tonight.” you lied, again, as you rested your back against his knees up behind you.

sitting up on his elbows, a frown of concern tugged at matt’s face as he held his hand steady on your thigh. “wanna talk about it?” he asked before you could shake your head, that same fake smile returning to your face again.

“no, it’s okay.” you whispered as matt nodded his head. leaning forward to grab his face, you pulled him into a brief kiss to smooth over the moment.

shifting his right hand beneath your weight, he shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. slipping a golden wrapper between his fingers out from the denim, matt’s lips quipped into a smirk as he pulled away from your lips to display it between your faces.

“maybe this’ll cheer you up?” he teased as a real smile finally spread across your face, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“i guess we’ll have to find out” your smile twisted into a smirk as you gently pushed his hand away, pressing your lips into his as you both smiled against eachother.

inching back on his lap, matt fiddled with his belt buckle before tugging his jeans and boxers down with one movement. taking his cock beneath his hand, he lightly pumped himself with a closed fist, tearing the golden wrapper in the other hand between his teeth.

crawling back against the headboard, you watched as matt sat up, rolling the condom down his length, the latex rubber laminating his veiny pink cock. you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing him and chris for the past few days, in everything he did, from his sweet mannerisms, all the way down to his cock.

the feeling of matt’s touch pulled you from your thoughts as his fingers trailed up your skin. spreading your legs for you, he situated himself between your thighs as he stood on his knees. wrapping a hand around your upper thigh, he tugged at the hem of your shorts. “take these off f’me, yeah, pretty girl?” he asked gently. in this case, chris would have already ripped them off your body the second you walked into the room.

nodding your head, you obeyed with a smile and pulled the pink cheetah print shorts down your thighs. the sound of rolling thunder echoed through your room as matt watched you, his hand reaching forward to hold your jaw as he leaned forward on the other hand to press a kiss against your lips.

pumping his hand up and down his cock, he pulled away slightly to look back and forth between your eyes “ready?” he smiled against your lips as you nodded back, taking his stubbled jaw between your fingertips. a gasp rolled off your lips as matt already sunk his cock between your folds with the slightest hint of approval.

your walls swallowed his dick entirely, slowly bottoming out as he let a groan out. “lay down for me” matt groaned as you followed his instructions, sinking down from against the headboard as you lay your back down on the cool pink sheets. he hissed slightly at your change in position as his hand gripped the headboard, adjusting to the newfound tightness around his cock.

“so fuckin’ tight” he moaned through gritted teeth, starting slow as he pumped in and out, his fingers gripping down harder on the headboard with the feeling. your head rolled back on the pillows as you watched his hips crash into you, holding your weight on your elbows as you watched him.

sex with him was almost the complete opposite than with chris. while they were both fantastic in their own ways, it was different with matt. it was sweet — he was rough yet caring and gentle, making sure he’d do everything in his power to make you feel good.

pressing his hand down on your lower stomach, he began to drive his cock harder between your walls as you didn’t bother to suppress your moans anymore.

looking up at him through hooded lids, the occasional flash of lightning through the window illuminated his concentrated features. reaching forward to grab the chain laying on his chest, matt’s gaze pulled up to the window above your bed as bright headlights cut through the blinds.

“what the fuck” he groaned out, slightly narrowing his eyes as he looked through the partially open blinds, casting a shadow on his face.

“what’s wrong?” you sat up as your expression slightly dropped, the sound of thunder filling the silence as you watched him with concern. matt’s eyes were still glued on the window as he reached forward to peek through the blinds, looking out through the rain pouring down outside.

“there’s someone out there” he slightly crouched down, pulling out with a hiss as he tugged his jeans back up swiftly over his waist, adjusting the belt hanging limp between the denim loops.

your stomach churned at his words, assuming it was your dad as you sat up quickly. fumbling to pull your shorts back on, you sat up completely and dug your knees into the bed to look out the window.

reaching over to grab your glasses from the bedside table, you quickly pulled them over your eyes as you pulled the blinds back. studying the car parked in your driveway, the headlights nearly blinded you. although, you knew that car from anywhere. with the sight of your face in the window, the headlights dimmed out to reveal chris sitting in the driver’s seat followed by a conveniently timed flash of lighting.

“shit” you mumbled beneath your breath, immediately closing the blinds as your heart sunk in your chest. you didn’t know what to be more afraid of in the moment — chris sitting in front of your house or having to explain to matt, who was just inside of you seconds ago.

“shit, shit” you repeatedly groaned to yourself, folding your glasses as you tossed them back on the side table, quickly standing up from the bed.

“was that my fuckin’ brother?” matt’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and a hint of anger as he made his way towards your bedroom door.

“brother?” you shot back, your heart racing even faster now. although you weren’t surprised, what else did you expect? of course they were brothers, they shared nearly the exact same face.

“yeah, chris” he groaned out, just hearing matt say his name made you sick to your stomach. “i think he got the wrong house” he mumbled, taking the door knob between his hands before you practically jumped in front of him in attempt to stop him, trying to usher him towards your closet.

“what? no” you shouted through a whisper “i think it’s my dad” you shook your head as you slid the mirror door open, desperately trying to shove matt inside. “go” you ordered as he nodded, gently shoving him behind the hanging clothes you had lined up against the wall.

you adjusted the white tank top on your chest, pulling it down as you stumbled out of your door and into the living room. your mind raced as fast as your heart, beating a million times a minute. maybe he didn’t see you. although, knowing chris — he wasn’t gonna leave without a fight, whether he knew you were home or not. you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck he found your address? you lived on the complete opposite side of town and it had been weeks.

peeking through the stained glass window of the door, the shadow of his car was still parked in the driveway. fuck.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you sat hiding against the front door before finally pulling it open after a minute. standing in the door frame, you looked over chris sitting in his car as you could see his expression change through the rain pouring down on the windshield. wearing that stupid smirk that somehow won you over everytime, but not this time.

stepping forward under the porch, you left the light off as he jogged out of the car through the rain and under the cover of the deck.

“what the fuck, chris?” you shouted over the sound of the storm, crossing your arms beneath your chest. “i block your number and you resort to stalking?” you shouted louder, now out of anger.

“you weren’t answering my calls sweetheart” he tugged a smirk onto his lips, pulling the hood from over his head as he now crossed his own arms. you scanned over his face as a knot formed in your stomach, knowing his brother was currently hiding in your bedroom closet.

“what do you want?” you spat, hoping he would just go away as he continued to do the exact opposite. “how did you even find my address anyway?” you continued, glancing over at the light cracking through your bedroom window.

“aren’t gonna invite me in? i brought a housewarming gift?” the smirk on his lips pulled up farther as he began to step toward the front door before you could move to the side to block his way.

“no” you shouted, pressing your hands against his chest as he sarcastically raised his eyebrows in shock, glancing down at your arms.

“is that anyway to talk to a guest?” he teased, acting surprised, as he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms down before he continued to make his way inside.

rolling your eyes, you tried to act quickly, trying your hardest to stop him from getting inside as he stepped past you and into the living room.

“i swear to god i’ll call the cops.” you threatened with your voice low, not wanting matt to hear you just on the other side of the wall.

“nice place” he said sarcastically, his eyes roaming the house as he stopped in his tracks to turn to you. “where’s your room at?” he questioned with a chuckle, crossing his arms once again as he looked down the doors lining the hallway.

“jesus, chris — just leave, please.” you nearly begged, taking his forearm between your hands as you tried to pull his weight towards the front door.

his gaze landed on the door cracked open, the light of your lamp spilling through as a smile pulled onto his lips “damn, relax kid, is your room dirty or somethin?” he shook his head as he tugged away from your grip, beginning to walk towards your bedroom. “you know i don’t care” he continued to tease, taking the door knob between his hand.

“no, chris, please just go.” you cried out, a little too loud for comfort as you continued to fight against his movements.

standing in front of your door, chris pushed it back as his eyes immediately widened upon looking inside. letting a bitter yet amused laugh escape past his lips, he turned to face you briefly as he looked back into your bedroom.

“m’i interrupting something?” he scoffed, looking back and forth between you and your bedroom as you pushed past him, freezing beneath the door frame as you looked over matt sitting at the foot of your bed.

“matt” you mouthed his name although your voice fell silent, the expression on your face speaking all the words that you couldn’t manage to get out. you stepped back, bumping into chris’ chest behind you as he continued to chuckle out of disbelief. a mix of irritation, resentment and enjoyment rung in the sound of his laughter.

“nuh uh” chris gripped his hands firmly around your hips as he felt your back press against him, the ball of your heel accidentally digging into his sneaker.

matt sat in silence, his jaw clenching at the sight of chris’ hands wrapped around you as he seemingly connected all of the dots by now. chris pushed your hips forward as you stumbled into the room, slamming the door shut behind him to leave the three of you in a heated silence.

you couldn’t look either of them in the eyes, between the anger and disappointment in matt’s face or the smug, possessive, envy in chris’ expression. matt stood up from your bed, beginning to move towards your door as he shoved past chris’ shoulder on the way out.

“wait” you groaned out to matt, shaking your head as you stepped forward before being met with chris’ solid chest as he moved in front of you.

“hold up, matt” he mumbled, glancing quickly over his shoulder as matt stopped before the door, his back still turned to both of you.

“what?” he shot back, as this was the first time they’d actually spoken to each other in over a year. your eyebrows knit together as you looked from matt up to chris, his eyes now full of mischief.

chris put a hand on your hip as he guided your body weight to the side, causing you to fall back on the foot of the bed. crossing his arms over his chest, you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“c’mere” chris nodded his head to motion his brother in his direction as he looked back at matt, who was now looking over at him past his shoulder.

matt’s face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance as he was far past fed up with the situation. “bro what do you want?” he spat, again, his face scrunching farther up as his eyebrows furrowed together, turning to face him.

“she wants both of us” chris scoffed through a laugh, looking him in the eyes as they were both ignoring you now. “don’t you sweetheart” chris narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose up snarkily as he briefly turned to acknowledge you. you couldn’t speak as a weight crushed over your chest, your eyes flickering between chris and matt.

you loved chris. despite the arguments and possessiveness that once filled your relationship — you were drawn to the fire, even after burning yourself countless of times over.

however, you hit it off with matt almost instantly. in the weeks you had known him, he was so incredibly attentive and sweet — you two clicked into place like the final puzzle piece.

although you couldn’t physically say it, you did want both of them and their polar opposite elements.

“why not give ‘er both of us” chris shrugged, although he was confident in his words. your eyes shot back up to chris, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. chris couldn’t fathom the idea of sharing you, however, he knew that you weren’t his to claim anymore.

“what?” your jaw fell slack, inching farther back on the bed as your eyes were still glued on chris, who was ignoring you, staring back at matt now.

shaking his head through a laugh, chris walked over to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress behind you as he pressed a hand against your stomach, pulling your back into his chest.

your mouth still parted open as chris nearly forced your back against him, pushing your hair to the opposite side as he placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder. you were nearly frozen in your position, looking at matt as his fist clenched by his side, knuckles nearly turning white from the tension. the sound of his rings squeezing against his skin lingering in the silence.

“c’mon matt” chris nearly whined against your skin, his lips trailing up to the crook of your neck as his eyes were locked on matt’s across the room. matt’s face burned with anger as his eyes flickered to yours, doe eyed as your eyebrows drew together in a silent apologetic expression.

matt released the fist forming in his hand as he shook his head, scoffing before turning to face the door again “nah, man, whatever” he mumbled, beginning to walk out.

“matty” you called out softly, knowing that hearing you use that nickname made him weak in the knees. he closed his eyes briefly while biting the inside of his cheek, turning back to look at you once more as chris’ lips quipped up into a smirk against your skin.

holding your hand out for him, the glimmer of the dim lamp in your wide eyes only emphasized the innocent look on your face. shaking his head, matt gripped his fist together once more, also knowing that he couldn’t resist you.

hesitantly stepping towards you, matt took your hand beneath his as you pulled him into you with a soft smile. leaning forward he held his weight on one hand as you pulled him into a kiss, holding the side of his face as you caressed the stubble forming on his jaw. while the kiss was gentle, matt’s lips moved with anger as he grabbed the side of your neck firmly.

the smirk on chris’ face never left as he wrapped his hand around your lower half where your thighs and hips met, gripping tightly as he held you still, grazing his teeth down on the skin of your neck on the opposite side. groaning softly into matt’s mouth, you felt chris’ erection growing beneath your ass as you gently pushed your hips back to rub against him, causing him to hiss at the feeling.

“why didn’t you just tell me” matt whispered low against your lips, a hint of irritation in his tone. although, you didn’t even know the answer to his question as you chose to avoid it, hungrily crashing your lips together once more.

“are you two just gonna sit there and kiss all fuckin’ night or what?” chris groaned bitterly as he tugged the skin of your neck up between his teeth, blistering red as you winced at the painful pleasure.

matt shook his head in annoyance, slightly pulling back to shoot a glare at chris with his lips on your neck, hands around your hips as he chuckled quietly at matt’s reaction. “shut the fuck up” matt muttered quickly, connecting your lips once more as he kept his eyes on chris’ to get a rise out of him.

you felt chris’ grip get tighter as he clenched his jaw, nodding his head with another bitter chuckle while swiping his tongue against his teeth.

chris pulled away to wrap a hand around the side of your neck, pulling you back from matt’s lips followed by a soft gasp. “arms up” he groaned quietly into you ear as he reached around your waist to pull the fabric of your tank top up over your torso. raising your arms completely, he slipped it over your head and onto the floor to reveal your exposed chest.

leaning forward again, chris wrapped his arms beneath your underarms as he took both of your tits between his hands, gently rubbing at your nipples between his fingers. moaning quietly beneath your breath at the feeling, you sunk back between his spread legs and into his chest.

matt watched the interaction, still leaning forward on one hand with a tightened jaw — at this point, it became a competition between the two of them. crouching down on his knees, matt wrapped his ringed fingers around your thighs as he tugged your lower half forward on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric of your shorts between his hands as he pulled them down completely.

“there we go” chris chuckled quietly, watching matt as he seemingly lit a fire under his brother. pulling himself back, chris lazily took your hair between his hands as he used an old bracelet around his wrist to tie it up out of your face. connecting his fingers with your nipples again, you watched as matt pushed your legs up and knees back into your chest.

“so fuckin’ wet” matt mumbled, trailing his fingers flat against your folds as you squirmed at the feeling, moaning out as you hid your flustered features in the crook of chris’ neck behind you.

smirking at the sounds rolling off your tongue, matt leaned forward to press a kiss against your pussy coated with arousal. “matt” you groaned impatiently, reaching forward to lock your fingers into his hair.

“so needy, baby” matt chuckled quietly, looking up at chris as your eyes were squeezed shut against his larger frame. hearing matt call you that caused chris’ face to burn red with anger as he leaned forward, his face peering down at matt over your shoulder.

burying his face between your legs, matt wrapped his hands around your thighs to keep them spread as he swiped his tongue flat against your folds, eliciting a jagged moan from you as you desperately jutted your hips forward.

chris shook his head, knowing it should be him getting the reaction out of you as he had plenty of times before. completely wrapping his right hand around the front of your neck, he pulled your upper half towards his chest, moving his fingers up around your jaw as he forced your gaze to his face rather than down at matt.

messily connecting your lips, chris used his other hand to squeeze at your tit between his fingers. a wave of sensitivity rushed over your body at the feeling of matt’s tongue flush against your pussy and chris tugging at your nipples, unable to control the moans escaping past your lips.

“s’this what you wanted sweetheart?” chris grumbled against your lips, it had been months since you felt his touch, although this time around it felt like anger masked by lust. “my dick wasn’t enough so you fuck my brother?” he groans against your lips as you whined out at the feeling of matt dipping his tongue between your pussy, licking a stripe up towards your clit as your body squirmed at the sensitivity.

chris moved his free hand around your hips to hold you steady as his other was still wrapped tightly around your jaw while you kissed him, chris reciprocating the hunger in your movements.

as matt worked on your clit, the pleasure sent an overbearing chill down your spine, your hand still locked in his hair as you tugged harshly at the curls beneath your fingers. “hold still princess” matt groaned as he held onto your thighs tightly, the rings around his fingers digging into your skin.

chris smirked at matt’s words, knowing that the pleasure almost ached at this point as you wriggled beneath his hands.

while chris tended to fuck you rough, it was never out of ill intention — he would never wanna hurt you. he simply liked being dominant, although, he always wanted to make you feel equally good, if not more, at the same time. you two had a designated safe word for whenever you needed it and he was more than happy to stop the second you uttered that word. however, the jealousy that built in his system quickly turned into arousal as he watched you squirm between the two of them.

“yeah, princess, stay still for matt” chris groaned against your lips, slightly mocking matt’s tone as he’d never called you that before, his grip digging into your skin as he held you in place. matt’s eyebrows furrowed at his words, although he continued as this was the first time they had shared something in common for a long time: you.

“i c-can’t” you moaned out with a stutter through the sensation building in your stomach, finally speaking after minutes of silence. “oh my god” you groaned at the tender feeling of matt’s tongue against your clit, your legs beginning to shudder as matt held them in place.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” matt began sweetly before letting a trail of saliva fall down his lips, spitting on your already soaking folds. “can’t handle both of us like you wanted?” he continued, his words hanging lustfully as your legs now fought against his hands.

“aht aht” chris pulled away, releasing his grip on your jaw as he reached both arms around your hips to hold your thighs spread open. matt glanced up at chris briefly as they soon realized they weren’t competing against each other anymore, rather working together. “keep goin’” chris muttered, nodding his head down at matt as he held your thighs open.

matt nodded as chris held you in place, one hand tugging onto matt’s hair as the other tightly gripped the fabric of chris’ shorts. with both hands free now, matt slipped the silver ring off his middle finger as he teasingly rubbed over your clit before pumping those same fingers between your walls.

you bucked your hips forward off the bed as your head rolled back onto chris’ shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut through a moan as matt’s fingers curled upwards. “that feel good baby?” chris groaned into your ear, his cock practically straining against your back as he watched your body shudder at the feeling.

nodding your head, you turned your face to look over at chris as you moved your hand up from his shorts and onto his face, holding his cheek between your palm. caressing his cheek, you pressed a warm kiss against his lips.

leaning forward once more, matt trailed his tongue up to your clit as he gently sucked between his lips, causing your body to tremble at the feeling, his fingers still working in and out deeper now. loud, jagged whines rolled off your lips, left and right, not knowing how much longer you could take it. “baby, i c-can’t” you whined against chris’ lips, not sure who you were talking to anymore at this point.

your thighs continued to jerk at the feeling of matt overworking your clit, your hand now grabbing a handful of chris’ curls, at this point they would have to restrain you if they kept going. “i’m gonna cum” you moaned, your head rolling down into the crook of chris’ neck as a smirk pulled onto his lips.

“what d’ya say? think she’s had enough?” chris asked, looking down at matt between your thighs as he pulled back to return the look, his chin soaked in your arousal, a smirk pulling at his face.

“nah” matt shook his head, deliberately slipping his finger deeper between your walls as your back arched off chris’ chest. “she wants both of us, we’ll give ‘er the full experience” matt laughed low, as desire had completely washed over him now.

chris’ eyebrows raised at his words, nodding in agreement with a laugh “alright ‘matty’ go ‘head” chris mocked your tone, spreading your legs farther apart for matt as you squeezed your eyes shut, your core also squeezing tightly as he continued to work against your clit.

“baby, please, i’m gonna cum, please” you moaned, your legs completely wrestling against chris’ hands as you tried to squeeze them around the sides of matt’s face. the feeling became unbearable as you felt yourself begin to slip. your back now arched completely off of chris’ chest, your hips digging farther back into the bed as you had finally reached your climax.

“atta girl” chris groaned into your ear, recognizing the way your face scrunched up when you finally came as he smoothed his hands over your aching thighs. your body sunk back into chris’ chest, breathing in and out heavily, wincing at the feeling of matt swiping his tongue upwards over the the cum leaking from between your folds. brushing the flyaways slicked with sweat against your forehead, chris placed a kiss against the side of your head as he held you. “relax” he drawled out a whisper, his arms now wrapped around your body.

looking up at you, matt peppered gentle kisses on your thighs as his eyes caught chris’ over your shoulder. “shhh” matt whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he comforted you. you kept your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath as you rested back against chris’ frame, the sound of your panting filled the room.

matt and chris practically spoke telepathically in the silence, reading each other’s mind through their eyes and expressions painted on each other’s face. “oh my god” you breathed out slowly, still sunk down beneath chris as matt dug his elbows forward into the foot of your bed, his hands wrapping around your hips as he pulled you towards him.

“you did so good” matt cooed, his thumbs rubbing up and down your skin as you sat up straight to look down at him, responding with a nod. chris rubbed your back in circular motions before sitting back on his elbows as you were still situated between his legs, watching and waiting for matt to sweet talk his way into making the next move.

“can you keep goin’ for us pretty girl?” matt asked gently, although chris already knew your limits as he waited for your response, matt’s hands still smoothing over your legs as you didn’t wanna give up now — nodding your head slowly as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. “good girl” chris sat up, both of their lips pulling into a smirk at your approval.

“get on your hands and knees” chris stood up off the bed now, the same demanding tone still lingering, months later, as you had heard those words from him plenty of times before. crawling towards the center of the bed, you dug the heels of your palms and knees into the mattress, waiting for either of their touch.

chris and matt stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed over their chests and eyes trailing over your figure on all fours in front of them. looking back over your shoulder, you heard them mumbling things quietly between each other as they decided how to go about it. “any day now” you teased with a giggle as both of their eyebrows raised identically at your tone.

“what was that?” chris asked, holding his finger behind his ear as he stepped closer to the bed, reaching out to smack his hand down against your ass, gripping the skin beneath his fingers. “the lip on this one” chris scoffed, a hint of his boston accent coming through as he glanced back at matt, knowing deep down he had missed that sassiness in your tone.

“take care of it” matt nodded his head towards you, as your head shot back over your other shoulder to look at matt, hoping your puppy dog eyes would somehow save you.

“nuh uh, don’t look at me like that” matt chuckled, walking towards the headboard as he held your cheek in his palm “too late now” he flashed a smile, gently patting his hand against your face.

you felt the mattress shift beneath you as chris dug his knees into the bed behind you. both of his hands palming at the skin of your ass before slapping his right hand against you again, rocking your body forward with the force. you softly hissed, your eyes closing immediately at the touch.

matt climbed onto the bed, taking your chin between his fingers as he pulled your jaw up “look at me sweetheart” he tugged at your chin, forcing you to look up at him with a nod.

“still on the pill kid?” chris asked, his hand smoothing up your back as he waited for your response. “mhm” you nodded, although the idea of you fucking anyone else, raw at that, still tinged his face red with jealousy. “good” he shook the thought from his head before smacking your ass again, making up for all the lost time as he began to pull his shorts down.

taking his cock between his hands, chris pumped his length a few times before slapping his tip between your ass. your body tensed at the feeling as he trailed himself down your pussy on display between your ass cheeks. teasingly rubbing himself against your folds, he lubricated himself in your arousal.

your eyes began to close as you waited for him to sink inside of you before matt tugged at your chin again “what’d i say?” he mumbled, forcing your eyes back open as you looked back up at him again. his free hand working on his belt buckle before pulling his jeans down, letting the denim pool around his knees as he held his cock straining bright pink in front of your face.

the sound of chris’ spitting came from behind you as he let a puddle of saliva build in his fingertips, lubricating himself even more as he found himself lining up with your entrance soon after. the room was silent as they mutually agreed to sink into you at the same time, matt’s hand locking on your ponytail as you wrapped your lips around his cock, pushing his hips forward into your mouth with a groan in response to the warmth.

chris used his free hand to spread your ass open farther, finally pushing his cock through your folds “jesus, forgot how fuckin’ tight you are” he hissed, his hands now grabbing onto your ass for leverage as your walls wrapped snugly around his dick.

your eyes remained up on matt’s face as his head slowly rolled back, groans escaping past his lips as your cheeks hollowed out around his cock. “that’s my girl” he moaned low, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at you again, his hand caressing your cheek. you held your weight on one hand, holding the base of his dick in the other as you pulled back to breath before chris could pound into you from behind, pushing your lips forward to gag down on matt’s cock again.

chris chuckled, his hand smoothing down your back as he smacked his free hand against your ass between thrusts. “can’t run that pretty mouth now, can you baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down your ass to pull your weight back down on his cock. your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling, tears welling in your eyes as you tried not to gag again.

matt moved both of his hands behind your head as he sluggishly removed the bracelet loosely holding your hair back, grabbing all of your hair between his fingers to re-tie it up into a messy ponytail. keeping his hands rested at the back of your head, he used the force of chris’ thrust to bob your head back and forth on his dick. looking up at matt through tear laden eyelashes, his face fully concentrated as he stared back down at you wrapped around his cock. “pretty girl, takin’ both our dicks so well” he cooed, trailing his hand forward to rub the pad of his thumb against your cheek, biting at the inside of his cheek as he felt an orgasm inching closer in his stomach.

it felt like you couldn’t breath, although you weren’t gonna give up — not yet, as it also felt like a wave of pleasure nearly paralyzing your body as they both drove their hips into either ends of you. your cheeks were flushed red, your baby hairs slicking down to your forehead as your moans were suppressed by matt’s cock pulsing between your lips.

you felt the pressure building in your stomach as chris continued to fuck you from behind, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass as he pounded into you harder. he gripped onto your hips, guiding you back and forth on his cock “so quiet ma, isn’t this what you wanted?” chris teased, deliberately driving his hips harder into your ass to get a moan from you. you felt yourself gag again around matt’s cock, quickly raising your hand to hold his length as you pulled back to nod your head.

“i’m gonna fucking cum” you breathily choked over your words, matt’s dick pushing between your lips again as he grabbed your chin. “jus hold on princess, i’m almost there” he squeezed your face, using both of his hands now to cup your cheeks as he pulled your head down on his cock.

chris continued with the same force, screwing into you as his life depended on it. your hands and legs grew weak holding your weight up, knowing an orgasm would completely send your body over the edge.

“fuck, keep goin” matt groaned as his eyes squeezed shut, rolling his head back as he quickly pulled out soon after, shooting his hot load over your face as it covered your features. his stomach twitched along with his cock, making sure every drop coated your pretty face as he rode out the high.

dropping back on the bed, matt rested his back against the headboard, allowing you to breathe out heavily as matt finally pulled out. immediately your body fell forward, the side of your cheek smushing against matt’s thigh, trailing his fingers through your hair to pull the ponytail down as he was the first to tap out.

chris, on the other hand, showed no sign of stopping anytime soon as he fucked your face farther into matt’s thigh. “there we go pretty girl” chris groaned, as the sound of your moans now filling the room was music to his ears.

“you wanna cum for us?” matt asked, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face as he comforted you through the tender orgasm building in your stomach. you nodded your head over enthusiastically, eyes squeezed shut as you gripped matt’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“c’mon mama, cum for me” chris groaned to himself under his breath, knowing you were close. his hips driving into you as he finally buried his cock far enough to hit your sweet spot, immediately pulling an orgasm from deep in your stomach as your back arched farther into the bed.

“fuck, chris” you whined out as he ripped the words from your mouth, squeezing matt’s hand as he now held you through your climax. chris’ face twisted into a smirk at your words, knowing your body like the back of his hand and just how much you could take — worked like a charm every time.

“atta girl, just like that” chris cooed through a groan, talking you through your orgasm as he was also nearing his own.

“you got it princess” matt whispered, his hand resting on the back of your head as your eyes burned with tears and remnants of cum in your eyelashes. thrusting one final time as he buried his cock deep between your folds, you felt his dick twitch inside of you as an immediate warmth filled your cunt. “fuck” chris drawled out another groan, his cock continuing to pulse as his cum finally coated your walls.

chris lazily pulled out as his dick fell limp against his thigh, his head rolled back in pure bliss while you were a mess, face down against matt’s thigh. you felt tears stream down your face as your body ached, your pussy bright red and raw.

“shhh baby, y’okay?” matt sunk down farther on the bed, his hands immediately wrapping around your face as he wiped away the tears and cum pooling near your eyes. you couldn’t even find the energy to nod your head, your eyes still shut as your stomach fell flat against the bed.

chris still catching his breath as he was the last to tap out, although that didn’t stop him from instantly aiding you in your recovery. quickly pulling his shorts on, he reached his hands down to soothe over the back of your tender thighs. “you did so good ma” he praised you, gently moving his hands beneath your hips as he turned you flat against your back so you could rest your head on the pillows.

“you okay?” matt asked again, his fingers caressing your cheek, both of them now looking down at you as chris used his shirt to clean the cum still lingering on your face. you nodded up at them, your eyes flickering back and forth as you were still slightly seeing stars above them.

laying down on either sides of your body, your skin stuck together with sweat, neither of them skipping over the aftercare as they trailed their hands over your body to soothe your sore muscles.

you three sat in silence, your bodies pressing against each other as you all caught your breath “so” you nearly squeaked out, clearing your throat, after remaining silent for a couple of minutes.

“are you guys like twins or?” you continued, looking up at them as a cheesy smile twisted onto your lips.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: welp 🫣 this one is for my pookie @hearts4sturniolo we literally just met but i love her sm, anyways hope y’all enjoyed!

tags: @watercolorskyy @joemamaaa42069 @luvergirlgabby @hearts4sturniolo @chrizzpiecreme @dietcokenumberonefan @sofieeeeex @eyelovedher89 @mattslolita @luverboychris @x0x0bunny

[leviathanspain]

money, power, and all your glory

coriolanus snow x reader, sejanus plinth x reader

synopsis: coriolanus snow knew that you would be his cash cow, only issue was, the budding romance between you and his best friend.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“coryo.” you couldn’t believe your eyes. he stood handsome and proud, wearing a shirt that had once been his fathers. no longer a boy, he filled it out as a man. coryo smiled brightly, always keen to your tones, “might i say you look dashing? perhaps too dashing?” just as you said it, sejanus strode up, “more dashing than i?” he pretended as if he were hurt, feigning a broken heart as he sat in his chair.

you blushed at sejanus, smiling as he sat down, “no. never.” you breathed, giving coryo one last look before heading back to your seat.

coriolanus thought your schoolgirl crush on his best friend was ridiculous. it was getting worse with each passing day, your admiration for the boy, and how he acted, was practically all you talked about, irritated him more and more.

coryo sat down beside sejanus, a devious smile on his face. he looked back at you once before he settled in, “wow.” he exhaled, and sejanus looked at him, “what?” the confusion on his face was clear, but there was also something he wasn’t telling him.

“you and y/n.” coriolanus didn’t divulge into the details, instead leaving it up to sejanus.

sejanus shrugged, “she’s gorgeous, what about it?” he said it so casually that coriolanus almost fell over.

he paused, thinking how he would proceed, “yeah, she is, isn’t she?” he looked over at sejanus, “my grandma’am loves her.” coryo’s lie slipped out so easily. it surprised even himself, and he gave a proud look to sejanus, who expressed his surprise.

“oh. i didn’t know you and y/n were….” sejanus faltered as coryo smiled coyly, never would’ve thought that coryo would even have interest in any of the girls here, he was always on and on about the plinth prize.

“also..” sejanus knew he would have to tell his friend before it was announced, “there’s no more prize.” he whispered.

you could see their figures talking and whispering from your seat. you were in the farthest row, because your father ‘didn’t like the look of those boys’ even though they were both filthy rich.

your mind filtered out most of highbottom’s speech. you couldn’t take him seriously with all the little vials you’ve seen him pound down before each class. until he revealed that there was to be a rule change.

you were to mentor a tribute, akin to fattening a pig for the slaughter.

you gulped thickly, feeling nauseated as he started assigning your classmates to their tributes.

“y/n!” highbottom called you to attention and you looked up, “district three. you get the girl.” he lazily spoke, pointing to the overhead screens, showcasing your tribute.

you stayed emotionless as the reality of what was happening, sunk in. you hadn’t even realized that sejanus was assigned to a former classmate from two.

“sej!” you called his name as you were all released. you could see his and coryo’s figures striding out of the academy, “sejanus.” you called his full name as he finally stopped.

“hey.” he didn’t seem too happy, why would anyone if they were assigned to mentor someone who used to be their equal.

“i’m so sorry about marcus.” you couldn’t help but grab his arm, comforting him.

sejanus shrugged, “it was my father’s doing.” he was clearly upset, he hated the games enough to begin with, now he was majorly involved?

coriolanus didn’t let the hand on his go unnoticed. he cleared his throat and you let go of sejanus, awkwardly stepping back. coryo could see that you forgot he was there, “coryo. i see you got that enchanting songbird?” he nodded in response to your question, “yes i did.”

sejanus looked at you and coryo, “i better leave you two alone. i’ll see you around, y/n.” he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked away from where you stood with coriolanus.

“how odd that sejanus said ‘leave you two alone’,” you had been reliving the interaction in your mind, only now saying it out loud. it caught coryo’s attention, who had been rambling on and on about what he would do about his tribute.

“why would he say that, coryo?” you stopped dead in your tracks, “i mean, we’re just friends.” you didn’t ever see coriolanus as anything but your friend. yes, he was handsome and often too good-looking for his own good, but he wasn’t the one you wanted.

coriolanus looked down at you, shrugging coolly, “maybe he sees something we don’t.” he could almost beam at how good of an excuse he had made up.

your eyebrows furrowed, “oh.” there was disappointment evident in your voice, disappointment that sejanus didn’t even think twice about you. he just assumed you and coryo had something going on.

“could he be wrong?” coryo looked at you again, searching for a crack in your expression, a way for him to get in. a union with you would benefit him in more ways than one.

you sighed, perhaps this was how it was supposed to go. sejanus didn’t like you, he never would.

you looked at coriolanus, eyes catching on his handsome face and the way his curls fell over his eyes. you grabbed his hand, pulling him in close, “the cook always makes extra. stay for dinner?” you were just a few feet away from your apartment, coriolanus had never seen the inside of it, but he imagined it just as lavish as your entire family appeared to be.

coryo nodded, ignoring the throbbing rumbles of his empty stomach as you sealed your fate.

you rose up to kiss him, and coryo met you halfway, kissing you roughly that you were pushed into the brick of the building. you pulled away for a breath, and realized that sejanus had been onto something.

coryo couldn’t help but feel satisfied that his plan had worked. sejanus did have an affection for you, years of it. but he didn’t want you to ever know, and hid it better than you did, even letting you go for his best friend.

“mother, father, this is-“

“snow.” your father had cut you off, leaning back in his seat as he stared at coryo, “what is he doing here?” he looked at you and you pursed your lips, “he’s my boyfriend, father. his name is coriolanus.” your father didn’t like the snows much, he thought crassus to be a myriad of insults.

coriolanus smiled, “i am told to be nothing like him.” he had this charming way about him, that a single sentence like that was enough to calm your father.

it had gotten late. coriolanus had been polite and indulged your father in all of his questions and random stories, but you knew he had to go home sometime.

you walked him out to the hall, “goodbye coryo.” you kissed his cheek, and coryo bent down to kiss you on your lips, biting them gently as he pulled back, “i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” he always picked you up from your apartment as friends. it was weird to think that the next time he did it, it would be as your boyfriend.

“i’ve never..” you faltered, “done this before, coryo.” you made a point to be clear with him. your feelings for him weren’t as strong as you felt they should be, it was very much just tossed together. you hoped that in time, your love for him would grow.

coriolanus nodded, “i understand. i’ll be gentle.” he commented with a smirk as he kissed your forehead, “goodnight.”

you wished you could say you were happy. it had been just a few days since the beginning of your relationship with coryo, and the beginning of your mentorship.

coryo had gone to great lengths to promote his tribute, the songbird as everyone had been calling her. he had even sacrificed his lunch for the girl, which you had found to be ‘very noble’ as sejanus did the same.

you brought your food as well, going with them to visit your own tribute.

the girl had been quiet. you were nice, offering it to her as you talked to her a little bit. she had made a point that she wouldn’t survive, as if she knew it to be the truth. you had nothing to say to that, instead filling the silence with more food.

sejanus strode up to you as coryo and his songbird were featured on camera. you looked at them, noticing how close the girl was to your boyfriend but ignored it.

“sej.” you stood up from your spot with your tribute and smiled at him, “i haven’t seen you in days.” you commented, “i missed you.”

sejanus laughed, “yeah, well.” he looked over at coryo, “couldn’t have missed me that much now that you’re with coryo.” he knew.

of course he knew, he was coriolanus’ best friend. they told each other everything, at least almost everything.

you shrugged, “doesn’t mean i still don’t miss you.” you had only started spending more time with coriolanus because sejanus had been too caught up in rebelling against his father, but before, sejanus had been your only friend.

“yeah.” sejanus didn’t know what to say. he had tried to avoid you, knowing you were his best friend’s girlfriend, he had to ignore the feelings that came around when you did.

coriolanus called your name, and you sighed, watching as he strode over to you both, “y/n, sejanus. should we head back?” he looked at you expectantly and you smiled, nodding as you slipped an arm around his waist, “yes.”

sejanus watched as you two walked ahead of him, swallowing thickly. he shouldn’t feel jealously at the two of you, he had no right. coryo was the one who had got to you first, and you chose him.

“y/n.” you turned your head just as the arena started crumbling. “get down!” someone shouted at you, and you ran, rolling on the floor as more pieces of concrete and metal fell onto the ground. you couldn’t see anything with the dust, you looked around for your tribute, but you couldn’t see her.

and you couldn’t see coryo, who had been with his tribute, not too far from you.

“coryo!” you shouted, and you heard his cries, “help me!” he shouted. you tried to stand up, feet wobbling over the uneven ground. the dust was settling as only a few pieces crumbling off now. you saw a tribute zip past coryo and his tribute, muttering something to the girl before running off.

you stared in confusion, collapsing before you even reached coriolanus.

you awoke with a start.

you could feel an ache in your body, unsure where but it was there, nonetheless. you blinked, lips crusted as you looked around the room. in a bed, next to you, was coriolanus, who laid unconscious. his back was wrapped, injured from the arena as well.

you stood up, limping over to his bed. you examined the wrappings, looking over at his face, you brushed a curl back with your hand. you found yourself worried when you had heard him crying out for help, someone had did the heroic effort of saving his life, and someone did the same for you.

you kissed his cheek, heading back to your own bed as he laid quiet.

you didn’t know who had saved you. coryo had woken up, and when he did, you had been introduced to his cousin, tigris.

she was incredibly sweet, a gem to coryo’s life. you and her had chatted for a bit as coryo and sejanus watched the tributes interview.

from your knowledge, your tribute had been crushed under pieces of the arena, and you were no longer a mentor. you could’ve been just like your tribute, crushed under some rubble, but sejanus had been the one to save you.

he played it off, and continued his conversation with coryo, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that it meant much more.

you got discharged before coryo. he had injuries to his back that required another day of observation. you had mild injuries in comparison.

“sej.” you saw him exiting coryo’s room, the one where you had been in as well, “i’ve been discharged, do you mind walking me home?”

sejanus hesitated to nod, before speaking, “the driver can just drop you off.” he walked, and you followed after him.

“i wanted to,” you paused as the driver opened the door for you, sejanus right behind you. you scooted all the way in, and sejanus remained with a good amount of space between you, “thank you, for saving my life.”

sejanus shrugged, “of course. i-“ he didn’t say anything, “you’re welcome.” he elected to say.

you scooted closer to him, “sej, i know that i haven’t really been able to see you as often anymore, but i still care about you.” he was your only friend for many years, you wanted him to know that you didn’t forget about him.

“it’s okay, y/n. you and coryo…i understand.” he sounded off, and you looked at him, “do you?”

sejanus couldn’t lie to you. if he did, there were always telltale signs that he was lying. he knew you’d be able to tell, and he was nervously clutching onto the seat’s fabric.

you watched his expression change and your breath hitched, “sej…” you faltered, “why did you never tell me?”

he liked you. as you liked him.

“i was going to tell you the other day, after highbottom’s announcement, i was going to buy you dinner, and introduce you to my father…” he trailed off, shaking his head of those thoughts, “but coryo mentioned his grand-ma’am and how she loved you- and i knew.”

you looked at him, confused as ever, “i’ve never met coriolanus’ grandmother.” you swallowed thickly, “are you sure that’s what he said? why would he say that?”

sejanus shrugged, “no clue. but that’s what he said, and that’s when i assumed you were together.”

the driver stopped suddenly and you realized it was in front of your apartment. you looked over at sejanus, and sighed, “thank you, for saving my life and for the ride. i-“ you shook your head, “i wish things had ended up differently.”

sejanus nodded, leaning in close to you, “i do too.”

there was a moment of silence before you kissed him.

there was a difference in the way his lips felt against yours. he was gentle, sweet, loving. as if that kiss had been everything he had been waiting for.

you pulled away, the guilt of having kissed another man crept in, and you opened the door without saying anything, running inside as the car sped off.

you ran to your bedroom, sobbing as guilt washed over you.

you had tried to get over sejanus plinth, tried to fall in love with coryo, but you wanted sejanus, now more than ever, especially with knowing the truth.

coriolanus stopped by your apartment on the day of his discharge.

in his hand, he had a small rose, just as your parents greeted him.

“coryo!” you exclaimed with surprise as he stood in your drawing room, “how are you feeling? are you alright?” your hand reached out for his and you pulled him towards you, throwing a look to your parents. they quietly excused themselves and you and coryo stood alone by the doorway.

“this is for you.” he presented it to you, and you smelled it, breathing the rose scent as he looked at you.

“i’m alright. i just wanted to see my girl.” he brushed a lock of hair from your face, and leaned in to kiss you.

you kissed him, matching his intensity as he gripped your hip. you pulled away for a moment, grabbing his hand as you led him to your bedroom.

you slammed the door shut and coryo threw his bag onto your bed, grabbing you as you rushed in to kiss him again.

you didn’t know what was coming over you, why you had this intense urge to want to rip his clothes off, even if he was barely discharged from the hospital.

he groaned slightly and you realized that perhaps he was still in pain.

you pulled away, panting. “we should stop.” you breathed, looking at coryo and the lipstick that was smudged over his mouth. he shook his head, “no..i want you.” he whispered.

you shook your head, “we can’t. you’re still healing, coryo.” you sat down on the bed, “maybe after you win. a big reward for a big win.” you teased, and coriolanus smiled, “you think?”

he sat on the bed beside you, “i do.” you spoke, staring deep into his blue eyes. “that tribute, how are you going to do it?” you whispered.

coryo shrugged, “however i may have to.” as he finished speaking, he hadn’t realized that you had been trembling the entire time, shaking like a leaf. as if you were hiding something.

[justagalwhowrites]

Bane of My Existence - A QZ Joel Miller One Shot

You and Joel Miller have never gotten along, always at odds whether working together or avoiding each other. But when a smuggling job goes bad, you discover that there might be more to his harsh demeanor than meets the eye.

Pairing: QZ Smuggler!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Joel is bad with emotions; hurt/comfort; canon typical violence; injury that's probably poorly handled because I don't medicine; vague threat of SA (not by Joel, not made to reader); unprotected vaginal sex. Joel carries reader but look... My Joels are all 6'5" and strong as hell, especially in life threatening situations. Man can carry anybody. I'm in love with him because he's a big strong man. No description of reader.

Length: 8.9k (sorry)

A/N: A lil one shot gift for my beautiful bestie @dundienominee :)

Full Masterlist | AO3

“Hell no.” 

Of course Joel Miller said hell no to working with you. Of course he did. 

You weren’t surprised at Joel’s reaction when his smuggling partner, Tess, brought you to their safe house in the QZ. He’d never been the president of your fan club. 

“Joel,” she sighed. 

“Fuck no,” he said. “Not bringin’ her anywhere, she’s a goddamn liability.” 

“Joel,” she said again, sterner this time. 

You, however, just smirked, watching him pace and glare at you, his face getting flushed as he did. 

“She takes stupid fuckin’ risks,” Joel said. “She’s cocky, she’s…”

“Saved your ass from infected?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

You knew you were adding fuel to the fire. Tess glared at you for it. Your smirk grew. 

“Wouldn’t have been near the fuckin’ infected if it weren’t for you,” he snapped. “Not. Goin. With. Her.” 

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Tess said, standing up a little straighter and crossing her arms, staring her partner down. “She’s the one with the contact, they agreed to two people meeting them and she has to be one of them…” 

“How the hell’d you make a contact?” Joel turned his full attention to you, his eyes molten hot and angry. “Anyone you touch ends up fuckin’ dead…” 

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped before you regained your composure. “Don’t get pissy with me because big bad Joel Miller isn’t the top of the smuggling heap in the QZ…” 

“I ain’t pissy!” 

“…Not the top of the heap in anything at all, really…” 

“That’s it!” Joel stalked over, looking like he wanted to slug you. Instead, he just put his finger in your face, a slightly unhinged look in his eyes. “You think I’m doin’ a goddamn thing with you…” 

“You don’t have a choice, Texas,” Tess came and stood beside you, her arms crossed as she looked to Joel. “You burned the bridge we had with the FEDRA officer I need to buy off to get our next round of pills inside, I can’t go on this run because I have to deal with the mess you made when you couldn’t keep your shit together. We want to actually be set before shit gets snowed in for winter? We need her connection. So. You’re going, you’re leaving tonight, and you’re not going to fuck this up. Got it?” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Got it.” 

“Good,” she looked to you. “Your contact knows you’re coming?” 

“They do,” you said, serious now and completely ignoring the wall of muscle who was still standing uncomfortably close to you. “The walk back is going to fucking suck but it should be worth it. Good with the split?” 

“Good might be a strong word for 60/40,” Tess said, shaking her head a little but grinning all the same. “But I’ll take it.” She looked between you and Joel. “Trusting you two to not kill each other out there. Don’t make me regret it. See you in a few days.” 

She left the two of you there in the threadbare apartment without another word, Joel’s glare practically drilling a hole into your skull. 

“Together again, eh Miller?” You smirked at him. 

He didn’t respond. He just went and sat heavily on the worn couch before lying down and closing his eyes. 

“What, didn’t get enough sleep?” You asked, going and standing over him. 

“Slept fine,” he said, eyes still closed. “Just would rather spend the few hours we have before we leave the QZ not listenin’ to you.” 

You rolled your eyes but took a moment to look at Joel when he wasn’t glaring at you. 

It was a rare occurrence, seeing him when he wasn’t scowling and pissed. He let himself relax down into the cushions and the lines in his face eased. As much as you hated to admit it - and you did hate it - Joel was beautiful. Frustratingly so. What’s worse, he’d somehow gotten better looking in the years you’d known him. Jerk.

You’d first met him before you came to the QZ, almost 10 years ago now. You were holed up in your own little corner of Boston, doing your best to stay out of the way of FEDRA, infected and raiders alike. 

It was basically a full-time job, even more so since you’d become the last person standing. A job that you failed at the day you met Joel Miller. 

And, as much as he liked to blame you for it, he was the one who showed up in your corner of town. You’d been napping through the worst of the afternoon heat in mid-July when you heard a clatter: someone tripped one of your alarms. 

“Fuckin’…” 

He swore loud enough that you heard him from your perch and you watched him shake glass out of the wrinkles of his shirt. 

“Someone’s here,” the second man said, much quieter. “That ain’t no accident…” 

The two men moved slowly, cautiously, their rifles raised as they searched for whoever it was who set that trap. When you thought they were far enough away, you started to move, slowly and quietly, going to sneak up on them and take them out before they could do the same to you. 

But as you drew close, you heard it. The clicking. 

You gasped, close enough to the strange men that they heard it and close enough to the clickers that they did, too. 

“Move!” The larger man snapped out of his moment of shock first, shooting forward and grabbing you and throwing you to the side before shooting at the incoming infected. You scrambled to get back up, fumbling to get the knife you’d been readying to thrust into that man’s back. 

It turned out, you didn’t need it. At least, not for the infected. The two men made quick work of the clickers and turned to you, your knife raised and ready to take at least one of them down with you. 

“The fuck are you doin’ out here?” The larger man said instead. 

“The fuck do you think?” You snapped. “Go on, do it! Kill me, take my shit, whatever it is you’re going to do…” 

“Don’t much like killing women,” he said, looking to the other man, their guns still in hand but pointed to the ground. They looked alike, these two. Like they could be related. 

“What, because I’m a woman you think I’m not a threat?” You asked, brows raised before realizing that you probably shouldn’t be egging on the large, armed men in front of you. 

“Not really, princess,” the younger man said, voice teasing, and you considered throwing your knife at him. 

“Should count yourself lucky that we don’t,” the older man said. “Why don’t you come with us, out pickin’ up just a few things and then headin’ back to the QZ…” 

“Right,” you scoffed. “Because I really wanna live under fucking FEDRA.” 

“Guessing you want to live,” he said. “Got news for you, princess. Even we’re steerin’ clear of this area of Boston after this. Lot more infected than we bargained for. Your little hideout ain’t gonna be safe much longer. Assuming you want to keep on living, QZ’s your best bet.” 

“And you’re just, what, inviting me along out of the goodness of your heart?” You scoffed. “Please.” 

“Don’t much like killing women and don’t much like leaving people to die, either,” the other man said. “Seem capable enough. Come with us, at least out of this part of the city. Would rather not have you added to the infected population.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment, considering. They could easily over power you. You were out numbered, out gunned and they were both large and strong. 

But… you had been noticing more and more infected lately. You hadn’t left your hideout in almost two weeks and you were low on supplies. Part of the reason you hadn’t dared venture out in so long was the seemingly constant press of infected you could see from the best vantage points in your building. You’d been starting to worry that you wouldn’t have a good opportunity to leave for supplies again. And, if you did, you were starting to worry your home would be overrun when you got back. 

These two were the closest thing you had to a safe option out. 

So, you took it. The pair introduced themselves and you were right, they were related. Joel and Tommy Miller, smugglers who lived inside the Boston QZ. They were strong, smart, capable. Handsome, too, not that it really mattered. What mattered much more was your ability to keep each other alive. 

And, it turned out, you were useful to them. Enough that they wanted you around as help for other runs outside the QZ. It made sense, you knew certain corners of the QZ better than anyone else seemed to. It had been your territory - at least, in some way - for a long time. 

Then, it happened. You’d taken to calling it ‘the incident’ for lack of any better word. You were out on a smuggling run with Joel and another man, Harvey. In spite of the fact that you’d been working together for years, Joel had never really warmed up to you. He tolerated you at best and it seemed like growling was his preferred form of communication where you were involved but you always made it back to the QZ in one piece when you went out together. You watched each other’s backs - you were proud that your kill count was higher than his and that you were almost positive he’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you. 

The three of you were at the edge of the city, heading to rendezvous with someone from a small settlement in New York State when you heard it, the first, distinctive shriek of infected. 

Suddenly, there were dozens of them, maybe more than 100, far more than you were capable of handling even if you had unlimited ammunition. 

And, like a fool, you froze. 

You’d scouted ahead and saw no signs of them, no indication of anything more than one or two strays that had been ambling around. You had no idea where they’d come from or how they’d come to be here but that didn’t matter. They were here, they were bearing down on you and you couldn’t seem to make your body move, the shock of the sight making you completely shut down. 

It was Joel who saved you. 

“Move!” He’d grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and thrown you behind him as he fired at the infected, pressing back as quickly as he could while laying down cover fire. Harvey joined him, their guns up and blazing as you tried to force your body to listen to you. “Fucking run!” 

Your limbs decided to obey then and you moved as quickly as you could, turning and firing behind you when it felt like you had a moment to spare. 

But you misjudged that moment once. Just once, but that’s all it took. Infected were closer behind you than you realized and Joel dove in between you and the reaching, groping thing. 

“Joel!” You shrieked, desperately trying to get a shot off that wouldn’t hit Joel as he strained to hold back the runner who was snarling near his throat. You were about to shoot when Harvey tackled the creature, knocking it off of Joel but into the mass of infected that was closing in quickly. 

They swarmed him and he screamed and you took aim as Joel scrambled to his feet. He shoved you on before you could fire and you stretched to shoot around him but he nearly threw you away from the swarming monsters and your screaming companion. 

“He’s gone!” Joel yelled as you stared at him, aghast. “He’s gone, we have to fucking move, now go!” 

You kept turning, looking back toward the sound of the snarling and the screams. 

“We have to go back!” you said. “We can’t just leave him like that, we have to at least shoot him we can’t just leave him, we…” 

“You should’ve thought of that before you fucked up!” He kept pushing you forward, toward the QZ. “No point in gettin’ us killed to save a man who’s already dead.” 

Joel had gone from seemingly finding you to be a nuisance to hating you then. He refused to even be in the same room as you let alone leave the QZ with you again. 

It took you a long time, after that split, to figure out how to survive. You’d become dependent on the cards you got from smuggling to get by but you couldn’t leave the QZ on your own and expect to make it back in one piece, not with how things had devolved with raiders and infected in recent years. You found a small group who was going out from time to time - which is how you met Tess - and you cobbled together a living. 

You never worked with Joel again. 

At least, not until now. 

You sighed and perched in the window, watching the QZ go by and thinking of the best way out of the city once the sun went down. You tried not to think about the likelihood that Joel would kill you while you were outside. 

It was a long walk ahead of the both of you, 30 miles each way through infected no man’s land, not that raiders hadn’t been trying their damndest to get a foothold. But you had a connection there who had been growing marijuana and had a hell of a crop they were willing to trade for plenty of ammunition and antibiotics. You’d been orchestrating this trade with Tess for weeks, both of you carefully avoiding the sore subject of Joel. The initial plan had been you and her heading out but then Joel beat the shit out of a FEDRA guard for some imagined offense and they were suddenly without the connections they needed and suddenly, Joel became part of the plan. Lucky you. 

Once darkness started to fall, you picked up a little stone that was stuck in the frame of the cracked window. You took careful aim and flicked it, watching it sail to hit Joel square on the forehead. He twitched in his sleep, grimacing, but he didn’t wake. 

You looked around a moment, searching for something else to use against him. You found it in the form of a wad of paper that you had to stretch to reach but you did. You tightened the ball and aimed, throwing it. It didn’t make it quite as far, bouncing off his hands as they sat folded at the base of his chest. He didn’t even flinch at that. 

“Dammit,” you muttered, looking around again. You found a rubber band then, perking up a little as you picked it up. You arranged it carefully on your fingers, pulling it back and aiming it like a gun, targeting Joel’s nose. His oddly beautiful nose. Not that you ever really thought that way about him, of course. You shot the rubber band and it flew, snapping right where you’d aimed it. He jerked awake and you turned quickly so it seemed like you were just looking outside into the night. 

“Wha…” He mumbled. 

You turned your head to look at him as he sat up, seemingly disoriented. 

“You hit me with somethin’?” He asked. 

“What would I hit you with, Joel?” You asked. “I was about to come wake you up, though. Can’t get a late start because of your lazy ass…” 

“Show you lazy…” he muttered, hefting himself up off the sofa. “Let’s move.” 

You gave Joel this much, the man was efficient. You’d forgotten just how efficient in the years it had been since you’d last worked together. He cut through the QZ quickly and smoothly, the knowledge of routes run by FEDRA guards seemingly innate as he knew exactly when and where to avoid and how to do it. In what seemed like no time at all, you were outside the walls and starting into the ruins of the city. 

“Got a safe house about an hour’s walk,” he said, setting an almost punishing pace as you moved alongside him. “We get there, wait for daylight, press on in the morning.” 

“Oh, because you’re the decision maker?” You asked, brows raised, even though you agreed with him. “Just expect me to fall in line…” 

“You know what, princess?” He rounded on you, forcing you back into the wall of a building you were passing. “You’re lucky I came out here with you after the shit you’ve pulled…” 

“Shit I pulled? I fucked up!” You all but yelled at him. “I know it! I think about that all the fucking time, that he’d still be alive if it weren’t for me! I don’t need you to fucking remind me, I know what I did and I’m sure you’re fucking perfect and that no one’s ever died because you fucked up…” 

“You don’t know a goddamn thing,” he growled, pressing closer to you for a moment and his eyes were dark and dangerous. For a moment, you thought he might kill you. Or kiss you. He didn’t do either. Instead, he just stepped back, looking you up and down once. “Keep your shit together this time. Don’t want to die because of you.” 

Tears burned your throat and eyes and you swallowed them and walked a few steps behind Joel, trying to keep an eye out for signs of infected and raiders and trying to make sure that Joel didn’t die. Even if it was just out of spite. 

The next day was easier than you expected, too. You made it quickly out of the safe house in the morning and dodged a hoard of infected, skirting around the writhing mass of them lying on the street. You didn’t really feel like you could breathe until you were outside the city, where the air was cleaner and you didn’t feel the specter of what happened years ago looming over you. 

You and Joel mostly ignored each other, watching the tree line as you kept an eye out for whatever might be lurking for you there. But, every now and then, you thought you caught Joel looking at you out of the corner of your eye, his head snapping around the moment you seemed to take notice. 

After walking for most of the day and covering 20 miles, the two of you stopped and made camp, Joel deeming it safe enough to make a small fire. You watched him after the two of you had eaten and settled, the light casting flickering shadows on his face. 

Joel, you were almost loathe to admit, was an incredibly good looking man. There was a roughness to him that you found almost comforting in the world you were both trapped in but there was beauty to him, too. The symmetry of his features, the plush of his lips, the cut of his jaw. You wondered what he was like before all this, not just when he was younger but before this world had a chance to sink its teeth into him. Maybe you would have been friends then. Maybe something more than friends. 

“How’d you end up smuggling?” You asked, not able to keep sitting here in silence any more. 

“What?” He asked, looking up from where he was cleaning his gun. 

“Smuggling,” you said. “Doubt you were born a smuggler and you don’t seem like you were a drug mule or something in the before times. How’d you end up doing it?” 

“How does anyone end up doin’ anything?” He asked. “Needed cards, people needed drugs. If people want to pay me for ‘em, I’m not about to argue.” 

“So that’s it,” you said. “You woke up one morning and thought to yourself ‘I think I’m going to tell FEDRA to fuck off today by running drugs’ and started a whole new career.” 

He sighed but didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t buy it,” you continued, sitting back against the tree you were propped against. “There’s something else…” 

“Not your business if there is.” 

“So there is something else!” You said, almost smug. “I’m on the right track, excellent.” 

“You always this nosy?” 

“Usually,” you said. “Let’s see… Maybe Joel Miller just likes an excuse to hit things.” He scoffed but didn’t say anything. “Not that? Interesting… Maybe Joel Miller gets off on breaking the rules. Is that it? You have authority issues?” 

“Can we go back to not fuckin’ talking?” He asked. 

“Not authority issues then,” you nodded, ignoring him. “Well, that leaves just one other theory.” 

You were quiet, looking away from Joel and fighting the urge to smirk as you did. It only took a minute of silence before he sighed. 

“Goddammit,” he said. “What. What’s your theory.” 

You let the smirk happen then, looking back at him. 

“That Joel Miller doesn’t feel alive unless he’s about to die,” you said. “And that Joel Miller needs to feel something so he decides to do the thing that almost kills him because what else is there to have?” 

He watched you for a moment, his eyes hot and angry, before he looked back at his gun. 

You laughed once. 

“So predictable…” 

“And why do you do it?” He asked, looking up at you, the rage barely contained on his features. “Must have a reason, right? Livin’ outside the QZ as long as you did, fuckin’ around outside it now, what is it? You got some kind of death wish?” 

“Yes,” you said, looping your arms around your knees. He blinked at you in surprise for a moment and you laughed a little. “I’m not nearly as mysterious as you, it’s not some secret…” 

“Why?” He cut you off, gun set aside now. You frowned but he pressed on. “You got a life, why do you want to just throw it away…” 

“You call what I have a life?” You asked, brows raised. “Never thought you’d be so generous in regards to anything related to me…” 

“Ain’t it?” He asked. “Sure, it’s not what it was before, can’t just do what we did then but…” 

“You think that’s it?” You gaped at him. “That I miss being able to go to fucking happy hour with my coworkers or grab dinner at Chili’s so I might as well drop dead?” 

“That’s not…” 

“I lost people, Joel,” you snapped. “I know everybody did but when I say I lost people, I mean I lost everyone. By the time you and Tommy found me, there wasn’t a single person left on Earth I knew. My parents turned in the outbreak, they bit my brother and his wife and their daughter. I survived with my fiance for a while but he got shot by a FEDRA officer when we were trying to make our way to the fucking QZ and then I was alone. I stayed out there because, what, was I supposed to go live with the people who killed him? No thanks. What the fuck is there? So yeah, you know what? I smuggle shit. I like the risk. I like telling FEDRA to fuck off. I like being able to handle myself because I’m the only thing I can count on. Don’t act so fucking surprised that I’m not thrilled with life in the QZ just because you brought me there.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment and you just squared your jaw and looked away, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You knew you shouldn’t let Joel get to you the way he did - especially not after you’d picked at him and pushed him here - but he got under your skin the way no one else left alive really seemed to. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about your fiance, not in years. It was a wound you’d long set aside, a casualty in the war on humanity that had hollowed you out so much that it seemed like you couldn’t really feel anything unless you were on the edge of your own destruction. Or, apparently, picking a fight with Joel fucking Miller.

“Could be worse,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, well.” 

“M’sorry.” 

You looked at him then, brows knitted together. 

“What?” 

“Said I’m sorry,” he said, voice a little gruff. “Didn’t… didn’t know. Wasn’t trying to… I’m sorry.” 

You blinked for a moment, trying to get your bearings. Of everything you’d expected to hear out of Joel Miller’s mouth, I’m sorry wasn’t it. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you said eventually. “If you want to talk…” 

“I don’t.” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Well…” 

“I got first watch,” he said, picking his gun back up. “Get some sleep.” 

The next day, you reached the trade you’d arranged, the woman you’d run into a few times when outside the QZ there with her partner. They hauled so much marijuana out - wrapped tightly in old newspaper - that they had to use wagons to carry it all. You unloaded your haul and the trade went smoothly, Joel lurking toward the back and standing guard, keeping a surly watch over the whole proceeding the entire time. It took some doing to pack all the pot into your bags but you managed it, thanking the couple and starting back toward the QZ. 

You were close to where you’d stopped the night before when it happened, the snarl of infected crawling over your skin. 

“Fuck,” you slung your rifle down from its place over your shoulder and turned to where the sound was coming from, seeing a cluster of at least a dozen infected moving for you. You shot, catching the first in the head and you watched it drop. 

“Go!” Joel yelled, planting his feet and taking aim. 

“Fuck you!” You snapped, ignoring him and shooting. “I can handle myself.” 

He growled at that but didn’t say anything else. Instead you stood with him, side by side, trying to pick off the group that was charging for you. For a moment, you thought you’d done it, that you were in the clear. 

And then, Joel’s gun jammed. 

You realized it when you didn’t hear any more gunfire coming from beside you as the remaining infected drew closer. 

“Joel!” Your eyes darted his way and you saw him trying to force the lever back, to no avail. He looked to you and the infected and back to you, his jaw squared. 

“Get back to the QZ,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond. Instead, he charged forward, gun held not like a firearm but a staff and he swung it, hard, so the butt of it slammed into the skull of an infected as three others dove for him. 

“Fuck!” You yelled, ignoring him again. Like hell he was going down out here like this, like fuck you were letting this asshole die for you. You took careful aim, taking down infected that you were confident you could headshot without putting Joel at risk, just one bullet going wide and exploding on the bark of a nearby tree, the rest finding their mark. And then he was on the ground, just one infected left, too close to him for you to be able to shoot and it wasn’t that you chose to do it, not really. It was more like instinct, flying forward, shedding your backpack and dropping your gun as you did, wrenching your knife from its place at your hip and jumping onto the back of the creature, your arms going around its neck as you yanked back on it, hard. 

Your weight threw it off balance and it shrieked, starting to claw at you, twisting in your hold to see if it could sink its teeth into your skin. It bit as best it could at your arms but the thick of your coat kept it from getting any further and you struggled to adjust your knife to drive it into the thing’s neck but you couldn’t get it, not without letting it go.

“Goddammit!” Joel was panting for breath and you could barely see him out of the corner of your eye as he scrambled to his feet. You tightened your grip on the infected, the stink of the rot of it from the inside out making you gag, and it slammed you back into a tree, catching you off guard. You barely registered the sound of your skull hitting the wood before you passed out. 

***

You didn’t listen. You never fucking listened, why could you never fucking listen? 

You were the single most infuriating person Joel had ever met. Stubborn as hell, independent to a fault, seemingly desperate to pick every fight you could find. Of course you didn’t fucking listen to him. You never had before, why would you start now? 

Seeing you that close to infected - again - was terrifying. 

This was why he didn’t want to go out like this with you. This, right here. Because he knew you wouldn’t listen, he knew you’d wind up in this situation, knew he’d have to deal with the fear and the pain of you dying when it was his fucking fault why couldn’t you just fucking listen?

He’d thrown himself at the infected to give you a chance. One of you was probably going to die out here and he wasn’t about to let it be you. Not when he’d already done so much, gone so far to try to make sure you fucking survived. Because dammit, if he couldn’t make sure one of the few people he actually cared about actually lived, what was the damn point? 

But did you take the chance he was giving you? No. Of course you didn’t. 

And all he could do was watch in horror as the thing you’d jumped on top of slammed you into a tree with a sickening thud, one he could hear above the snarling and snapping of jaws. Your body went limp and you slid from its back to the earth, landing in an unnatural looking way. No one who was in control of their limbs fell like that. His blood was ice and he moved without considering, roaring as he ripped his knife from his belt and tackled the infected who was turning to go after your throat. He hit it so hard he rolled with it, the creature’s mouth reaching for him as he held it back. They came to rest on the ground, that thing on top of him and Joel slammed his knife into its neck again and again, until it went quiet and still and Joel was bloodied and panting for breath. 

He shoved it off him and he half crawled to you as he got to his feet, not willing to wait until he was standing to start moving. You were still when he reached you, your head thrown back, half on your side, mouth open. 

“No, no, c’mon,” he pulled your coat open to get at your chest to try to do what he thought was CPR - not like there were fucking certifications for it in the QZ - but, when he did, he realized you were breathing. He lowered his head near your mouth and could hear the soft, shallow sound of your life and he sat back on his heels, taking a deep breath. 

So he hadn’t gotten you killed. Not yet, anyway. At least there was that. He let himself sit with the relief for a moment before checking you over, looking at your throat and wrists for signs of a bite but didn’t find any. Another lucky moment. 

“Alright princess,” he said, tapping your cheek lightly. “C’mon. We gotta get movin’, let’s go.” You stayed still. His stomach twisted. “Know you like to fuck with me but now ain’t the time, we need to get out of here, time to wake up…” 

He half expected you to respond then. You’d love this, the fact that he was damn near panicking because you were hurt. He knew you’d want to draw it out. 

But you wouldn’t be stupid about it. You wouldn’t put them at risk, not really. 

“Fuck,” he swore, adjusting your limp body as best he could before lifting you to his chest. The hair at the back of your head was matted with blood. He tried not to think about what that might mean. “S’alright. You’re gonna be fine, just… You’ll be OK.” 

He kept thinking that, over and over, as he carried you, looking for somewhere he could protect you for a while. 

It took him time to find it, a farmhouse with overgrown fields that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The door was hanging open, creaking on its hinges, and Joel brought you to the kitchen island, setting you gently on the dust-covered formica. 

“Stay there for a minute,” he said, leaning against the counter to recover his strength and his breath for a moment. “Gotta… gotta make sure we don’t got company.” 

He went through the house room by room, barricading the doors on the ground floor and pleasantly surprised to find most of the top floor intact, no holes in the roof or broken windows. He gathered some blankets from the main bedroom and carried them down to where he’d left you. He propped your head up gently, pouring some water on a cloth and cleaning the cut there with care before covering you with a quilt and pulling a kitchen chair up beside you. He checked to make sure you were still breathing before sitting down, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, hands folded almost in prayer. 

He should have told Tess to fuck off. He knew better, when it came to you. There was a reason he’d avoided you ever since that day everything had gone wrong. Hell, he’d been avoiding you before that, too. 

From the moment he’d met you, he liked you a little too much. You were the exact kind of woman he’d gone for before, one who was capable and strong and a total fucking smart ass. He liked a woman who challenged him, one who made him think. You did those things, you did those things like it was second fucking nature, all while being one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, before the outbreak or after. 

He knew he had to keep his distance from the beginning, that he’d get too attached if he let himself. But you were a valuable partner, so he did his best to keep you at arm’s reach while going on runs with you and his brother. He thought that had been enough, that he’d done a good job of protecting himself from the disaster that waited at the end of any form of attachment in the life he led now. 

And then he saw you freeze in the face of infected. 

He was so afraid in that moment that it shocked him how fast he made the call. The decision to put his body between you and the infected was an easy one. He wanted to make it back to the QZ, to his brother he’d found some reason to live for over the last few years, but he wouldn’t want that if you didn’t come back, too. But you didn’t fucking listen then, either, too busy trying to do the same damn thing he’d have done in your position. If you hadn’t been with him, he’d have tried to save Harvey. He was a good man, he’d watched Joel’s back plenty, Tommy’s too. He deserved a better end than the one he got. 

Joel just couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you. 

He let himself rage at you about it. Even though it wasn’t your fault, none of it had been. He’d known it then but even more so after. Years later, outside the QZ, he watched as a large hoard worked its way south for the winter, just passing through. You couldn’t have seen them coming, no one could have. 

He never told you that. Because, after the day you froze, he was far enough away from you that he wasn’t going to have to watch you die and he wasn’t going to have to carry the blame if you did. He couldn’t do that again. He knew that much of himself, he knew what he wasn’t capable of surviving. If you were out of reach, he’d have room to breathe. 

But you were still leaving the QZ. He hadn’t known that, at first. He’d just assumed you’d stay put and take the shitty jobs FEDRA offered to get by. He hadn’t even known that Tess knew you, not for years. It wasn’t even her that told him you were still smuggling, it had been a FEDRA guard. He’d overheard your name when Tess was handling a trade and put two and two together. He damn near marched over to your apartment that second and demanded to know what the fuck you were thinking. But he didn’t. He kept it together, he kept listening for news of you, kept waiting for the day that he knew was waiting for him, the one where you didn’t come back and he’d find out about it from some other smuggler or some asshole guard who found out when you didn’t show up with his supply of pills.

And then your name came up when he was trading with a FEDRA guard. It was a small deal, some pills for cigarettes and liquor, just enough for one guy. He was a new client of Joel’s, one he was happy to have. His demand was low and he was good leverage for bringing shit through the gates, turning a blind eye for a good deal on drugs. He just hadn’t seemed to learn quite yet that Joel wasn’t a friend. 

“You know other smugglers, right?” He asked, glancing at Joel as he counted the pills out in his palm. As though Joel was stupid enough to short change a fucking FEDRA officer. 

“Suppose,” Joel shrugged. “Why?” 

“There’s this one…” he talked about a woman who was coming and going, one who was cocky and beautiful and hadn’t caved to his demands for sex the last time she came through and he tried to blackmail her. Joel ground his teeth but kept quiet as he prattled on, eventually pocketing the pills and handing over the cigarettes and booze. “Anyway, wondering if you think she’s the type who’ll give in or should I stop wasting my time and just take it?” 

Joel’s hands curled into fists. 

“Take it?” Joel asked. “Take what, exactly.” 

He looked at Joel, incredulous. 

“C’mon,” he said. “You know. They never fight too hard against a uniform but it’s more fun when they’re at least a little willing.” 

Joel’s punch came so quickly the man didn’t have time to put his hands up. He took him to the ground fast, blow after blow raining down on the man’s face until the air smelled like copper and his knuckles were split. The man gargled on his own blood below him, desperate gasps that sounded something like “please” but he couldn’t be sure. Joel grabbed him by the collar, his head lolling limply to the side as he tried to breathe. One of his teeth was hanging on my a thread.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel panted. “Tell your fuckin’ friends. I hear about any of you messing with women around here? I’ll kill you.” 

Joel dropped him back to the ground and flexed his fingers. He thought he might have broken part of his hand. Wouldn’t be the first time. At least this one was worth it. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with you,” he said, fishing around in the man’s pocket and taking a pill from him. He popped it in his mouth, chalky and bitter on his tongue. “For my trouble.” 

He left the man there in the alley, knowing full well that he’d just shot his whole team in the foot. He didn’t much care. 

The irony that it had landed him here, outside the QZ with you unconscious and your haul on the forest floor was almost too biting. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he’d been doing this wrong all along. 

You groaned and Joel’s head shot up as you started stirring on the counter, your hand going to the injured part of your skull. 

“Easy,” he said gently, getting up slowly so he wouldn’t startle you. “Took a nasty hit to the head, you were out for a while.” 

“Ow.” 

Joel laughed a little at that. 

“Glad you think it’s funny,” you said, sitting up. He rushed to help you and you gave him an incredulous look as his hands found your back and your hand. “Jesus, I feel like I got put through a meat grinder…” 

“Well, s’long as you ain’t bitten, think we can handle that,” he said, taking his hands back now that you were sitting up. 

“Amen to that,” you said, stretching a bit before looking him over and then looking around, a small frown on your face. “Where are we?” 

“Farmhouse,” Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. “Think about a mile from where we were. Can find our way back OK. I’ll have to, your pack is still out there.” 

“Shit,” you said. “Yeah, we can’t afford to come back without it, I traded my entire stash for my share of the pot…” 

“We’ll find it,” he said. “Don’t think anyone else is comin’ through here any time too soon.” 

You nodded slowly before looking back to him, your eyebrows knitting together before you flinched, your hand going to the back of your head again. 

“Will you actually listen for a change and take it easy?” He asked, going to check the wound. “Jesus, bane of my fuckin’ existence, not doing a goddamn thing I tell you…” 

“Why are you still here?” You asked, ignoring him yet again, fingers finding the gash on your head and tugging at it until it started bleeding again. Joel sighed before pulling your hand away. “Hell, why’d you bring me here at all? You just said I’m the bane of your existence, why the fuck did you go through this much trouble? You could have just left me there, taken my pack, kept all the haul for yourself…” 

“You really think I’m capable of that?” He asked, brows raised. He knew he hadn’t exactly been kind to you over the years but fuck, he didn’t think it was that bad. He pressed the wet cloth to your head again, watching as the red filtered over it. 

You shrugged. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Yeah, alright, you piss me off more than… shit, about anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re the bane of my existence…” 

“So…” 

“Will you let me talk?” He snapped. “Fuck, woman, always gotta be right, always gotta have the last damn word, always gotta do whatever’s gonna get you into the most trouble…” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I managed to save your fucking life today,” you snapped back. “Please forgive me!” 

“I don’t want you saving my life if it costs you yours!” He yelled. 

You pulled back from him sharply, eyes wide as you blinked at him in shock. He shook his head and pulled the cloth away from your skin. At least the bleeding had stopped again. 

“Don’t fuck with it anymore,” he said, dropping the bloody fabric to the counter. “Gotta leave it alone so it can start to heal, head wounds bleed like a motherfucker…” 

“Joel,” you said quietly, watching him. 

“What.” 

“Joel,” you said again, eyes still on him. “You… What did you mean you don’t want me saving your life if it costs…” 

“I don’t…” He cut you off before he took a deep, centering breath. “I don’t want anybody dying for me but… Christ, it can’t be you. Yeah, you’re the bane of my existence, you piss me off so much sometimes I swear it’s like you got a goddamn degree in just how to do it but you make me feel more alive than anything else left and I can’t…” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like a bruise. “I can’t lose you, especially not when I could stop it. Not when I could save you. I need you to stay alive, OK? I don’t want anyone else to piss me off the way you do, I want you to be the one getting under my skin every goddamn day…” 

“Joel…” 

“Still not gonna let me finish?” He gaped at you. “Fuck, I’m tryin’ to…” 

You didn’t let him finish that time, either. Instead, you kissed him, your arms going around his neck and pulling him roughly against you, your lips so soft and warm and demanding on his that it felt like you were trying to swallow him whole. 

It was like the logical part of his mind only worked for half a second after that. He knew, in that moment, that he should probably hold you back. Talk things out, make sure you didn’t hurt yourself - you’d just had a head injury for fuck’s sake - but that part of him vanished, consumed by you and the way you kissed him like you were trying to climb inside his skin. 

His arms went around you, pulling you to the very edge of the island so your pussy was pressed tight against his quickly hardening cock. 

He couldn’t help but grind himself against you, the zipper of his jeans harsh contrast to just how soft he knew your pussy would be and the last bit of resolve he should have held snapped. Your fingers fumbled at the snaps on his coat, pulling it open before going to the buttons on his shirt and he did the same, desperate to get at your skin and suddenly not caring that it was nearly freezing or that the two of you had nearly died not all that long ago.

His hands found your breasts, sliding inside the cups of your bra to cradle the soft warmth of them and you moaned into his mouth when his thumbs found your nipples, gently brushing them before working them in little circles as they pricked against his skin. 

Joel had tried to not think about this with you. It was tempting, always tempting, but he knew better. He tried to limit his thoughts of you to frustration and anger but he often failed at that. He had failed at it often enough that he had an idea of how you would feel in his hands, how you would taste on his tongue. He thought he would have known enough to be prepared for it if it ever happened. 

He wasn’t. 

You were, somehow, so much better than he’d ever let himself imagine. You were so goddamn soft, like the whole of you had been spun out of silk, tenuous and tender. There was something almost inherently wrong in how he was touching something as soft as you but he shoved that nagging guilt aside, too obsessed with feeling more of you. If this was how your tits felt in his hands, how your lips felt on his, how your hands felt in his hair, he had to feel inside you. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think about anything else if he didn’t get to be inside of you, his mind would always be trying to create the way you would feel, to know how warm you would be, how safe he would feel in you and how calming it would be to know that you were safe, too, because nothing could reach you if he was there inside you, nothing. 

His hands reluctantly left your breasts and slid down to your waist, finding the button on your jeans. You quickly, clumsily kicked off your boots and lifted your ass from the countertop so he could slide your jeans and panties down, leaving you all wet and swollen and bared for him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, looking down at you for a moment before reaching one callused finger forward and almost reverently tracing your dripping slit. You groaned, your head going back in pleasure, your hips almost jumping toward him. 

“Joel,” you whispered, voice so goddamn needy. The sound went straight to his cock, skin stretched tight and balls aching. “Please…” 

“I’ve got you baby,” he said, opening his pants and tucking his jeans and underwear below his throbbing sex. “Make you feel so good, just…” 

He took his cock and brushed the head against you and you looked down to where he was about to push inside you and gasped. 

“Holy fuck,” you panted, looking at him, your eyes wide. “Joel, you’re… Are you going to fit?” 

“I’ll fit, baby,” he said, looking down again and notching the head of him inside your wet heat. You groaned as you stretched around him, fingers digging into the skin at his nape. He pushed the first inch of himself inside and stopped, looking back to you. He took your face his hand and your eyes searched his, desperate longing written there. “Just watch me, I’ve got you.” 

You didn’t say anything, you, just nodded quickly. His other hand went to the small of your back, angling you just so as he started to thrust into you, pushing in a little and then pulling back before going again, claiming more and more of you with each stroke until he was fully within you. He stilled inside you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes on his own, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. 

He’d been right. Inside, you were fucking perfection. He could feel how you stretched over him, how your body perfectly took and held his own. You were so soft there it seemed impossible, like the world should have destroyed anything this delicate and supple. But you felt so like you, too. The heat of you was almost overwhelming, the strength of you sharp and clear when your cunt fluttered over him, already nearing your orgasm with telltale little spasms holding him tight.  He wanted to consume you and be consumed, devour and be devoured and he needed to fuck you deep and hard and leave part of himself inside of you or he might never think of anything else ever again. 

“Fuck, Joel,” your breaths were sharp and shaky. “I’m so… you’re so big, I’m so full, I… You have to move, I need you to fuck me, please fuck me, please, I need…” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, gently angling your head just so. “Give you just what you need.” 

He kissed you as he started fucking into you, setting an almost punishing pace as he moved inside you. He drank down your desperate groans, savored the way your fingers scrabbled over his shoulders and neck and back, got lost in the spread of your thighs as you kept trying to take him somehow deeper. As if there was more of you for him to take, as if there was more of himself to give. 

Your channel grew tight over him and he knew he wasn’t going to last once you came but he was afraid he wasn’t going to even make it that far. He’d already given up on pulling out, he’d deal with the whatever fallout came from filling you up, but he had to feel you come when he was inside you. He was desperate for it, needed to feel how you’d draw so tight over him and pull his come from his body into yours, he needed it. He drove deep and found the spot inside you that made your legs clench a little tighter, fingers clutch a little harder. He pressed into it and held himself there, more rocking into you than fucking into you, grinding the head of him into the very softest part of you as your cunt drew tighter and tighter over him and you pulled away from his lips to cry out as you came. You throbbed around him and he could feel every part of you there, the pulsing of your body and the satisfaction of your cries damn near ripping his own orgasm from him. 

He pulled you close and tight as he came, feeling like his whole being was pulled down low and sharp inside him as he spilled deep into you. Your arms loosened on him but you still held him gently as he all but collapsed into you, his head on your shoulder as he panted for breath. 

“Fuck,” he managed after a moment, still deep inside you. 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. 

He sat back from you, eyes searching yours again now that you’d both started coming back down to Earth. You reached up and ran your fingers through his curls, brushing them back from his face as he started to notice the cold air again for the first time. 

“Bane of your existence, huh?” You asked, teasing lightly. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “My whole damn existence.” 

You smiled a little back. 

“Think I can work with that.” 

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter 10

Surprise! Sorry for the lack of Jack content in this one.

I feel like this sucks but at least I wrote something ;-;

Prologue: here

Previous Chapter: here

Next Chapter: here

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @twstsandturns @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @sushiperson @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth @losingmybrain @sxftiebee @queens-unheard-thoughts @medicine-san @strugglingsleeper and @rocketstyx  wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I have removed the tags that weren’t working for me, apologies if yours was removed!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

NOTE 2: I decided to make this a little fluffy before shit goes down.

—-------------------------------------------------------

It was your turn to feed the halflings dinner again. The hyenas, lions, and wolves all were going to be given the same food: hamburgers. Each was individually wrapped, and there must have been a hundred of them between the two giant buckets you were forced to carry. 

Surely that’s way too much for even all three groups combined! You groaned as you lifted the buckets. Your arms were definitely going to get a workout from this.

You trudged into the savannah, your arms already aching from the heavy load you were forced to carry. Thankfully, the hyenas were gathered on the rocks not far from the entrance.

Ruggie’s eyes lit up as soon as they saw you, letting out a bark of excitement as he leapt down from the rock he had been sitting on with the grace of a cat. He stopped a few feet away from you, as though he were waiting for a signal from you. 

You placed the buckets on the ground and lifted your hands in a calming gesture, “You know I’m not going to hurt you, Ruggie. I’ve just brought food for you all.”

Ruggie grinned and bounded forward, taking you by surprise as he pulled you into a hug, rubbing his cheek against your own. He pulled away, a sly grin on his face as he stole a burger from the left bucket and slipped away, climbing onto a large rock and unwrapping the food.

You felt a little flustered by the sudden show of affection but, with a shake of your head, you dismissed his odd behavior. Yet, Ruggie’s eyes never left your figure, his tail wagging back and forth as though he was thrilled to be able to see you.

When he came for his second helping, he reached out a hand and slid it beneath your chin. He drew his face closer until you could feel his hot breath playing across your lips. For a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you, but he spoke up instead, stumbling a little over his words, “You are special to me.”

“I am?” you were taken aback by his sudden confession.

“Yes,” Ruggie said with a wide smile, “You��re my favorite!”

“Favorite what? Researcher? Aren’t I the only researcher you know?”

Nishishishi. Ruggie giggled at your confusion, “Favorite. (Y/n) is my favorite.”

Completely nonplussed now, you gave him an awkward smile, “You’re a strange one, Ruggie.”

His smile morphed into a pout, “Am I favorite?”

You reached out a hand and messed up his fluffy blond hair, “You’re my favorite Ruggie in the whole world.”

He gave you an annoyed look, his hyena ears flat on his head. It was clear he was hoping you’d be a little less specific. But you couldn’t tell him something like “you’re my favorite hyena”, as that wouldn’t be fair to the other halflings.

You took a seat on the rock as the other hyenas came for their second helpings, skirting around you with nervous looks. Ruggie practically threw himself onto your lap, his stomach back landing on your legs as he gazed up at you. You almost shivered when you saw his expression.

His gaze was hungry, eyes dark and lips pulled into a sinister smile. He lifted a hand and cupped your cheek. He whispered something and, though it was too quiet to tell, it sounded suspiciously like he had said “mine”.

Then, his eyes fluttered closed, his hand flopped to his side, and his breathing turned even. It took you a moment to realize he had fallen asleep. You were a bit jealous that he could fall asleep so quickly and easily (it took you much longer to settle down at night). 

Some of the hyenas came for a third helping, but once all of them had deposited their wrappers in a pile near the buckets, you realized you had to move on. “Ruggie, time to wakey wakey,” you teased.

Ruggie’s eyes fluttered open and his peaceful expression became cross. His hyena ears flattened themselves against his head again and his tail lashed once, but he obediently stood up, freeing your lap so you could stand as well.

You took the wrappers to a trash can near the entrance of the enclosure and returned to the buckets. Ruggie watched you from on top of a rock, eyes sad as he watched you walk away. You felt a little bad, but you had to move on. You couldn’t just spend the entire evening with the hyenas when you had to see the lions and wolves too.

The buckets were still heavy and you felt your arms ache as you took the long walk over to the lion halflings. As you approached, Leona sat up on the rock he was lounging on. You put down the buckets and waved at him.

He leapt down from the rock gracefully and walked towards you. When he was just a few feet away, he stopped dead in his tracks and his nose screwed up in disgust, “You smell like hyena. You let one of those bone-eaters scent you?”

“Huh?” you were confused for a moment before you remembered the way Ruggie rubbed his cheek against yours and lounged across your lap. Was he scenting you then?

“Disgusting,” Leona snapped, reaching out and snatching your wrist, “You should smell like lion.” His face drew closer and you snapped out of your surprise and confusion, pulling your wrist out of his grasp and taking a step back.

“You shouldn’t be surprised I smell like hyenas, considering you aren’t the only halflings I care for,” you snapped, “That doesn’t give you permission to scent me too!”

Leona let out a growl deep in his throat and you involuntarily took another step back. His eyes narrowed, as though he was deep in thought. Then, a somewhat sinister smile spread across his face, “Of course, you’re right.” Somehow, his tone seemed condescending, as though you were too stupid to understand him, “I’ll have a talk with the hyenas, and no one will scent you again.”

A shiver ran up your spine, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh but I do,” Leona growled, “Now, you brought us food, I believe? Or are you going to stand there gaping like a fish?”

You closed your mouth and pursed your lips into a deep frown. Leona was really getting on your nerves, “Yeah, I did. Feel free to grab something, your highness.”

Leona didn’t seem offended by your dig, if anything, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He grabbed a wrapped burger from the bucket closest to him and leaned in as close as he could while doing so.

The other lions followed his example, grabbing burgers and eating them under the tall rock that Leona had resumed lounging on. The king of the jungle gazed at you with darkened eyes and you were surprised to read the jealousy on his features. Was the great Leona really jealous of some hyenas?

You tried to shake the ridiculous idea from your mind, but you just couldn’t believe otherwise when you looked at his expression. You didn’t like the way he gazed across the savannah at the group of hyenas with a sneer on his lips.

“Leona,” you called up to him. He turned his furious gaze on you, eyes burning, and you shut your mouth, the words dying on your tongue, “Never mind.” You picked up the buckets and turned around. You heard a light thump as Leona jumped down from the rock again.

Arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to a toned chest. You grabbed his wrists and tried to wrench them from your body but Leona didn’t budge. “Let me go,” you demanded firmly. 

The lion halfling placed his chin on your shoulder and let out a sigh, “Why do you tempt me so?”

You furrowed your brow, “That sounds like a ‘you problem’. Now let go.”

Leona obeyed with a chuckle, his arms disappearing from your waist, “You’re entertaining, you know that?”

You refused to look back, angry that he had put his hands on you, and simply walked away. You didn’t breathe again until the enclosure door shut behind you. You leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, entirely nonplussed by what had gone on between you and the lion halfling.

You took a moment to process the encounter, then stood up with a sigh. You hoped all of the lions’ bellies had been filled with only one burger, since you hadn’t stuck around long. You checked your watch and were happy to see that it was still fairly early. That way, it wouldn’t be too dark out when you brought the burgers to the wolves.

You hurried down the pathway to the wolf enclosure, looking off in the distance where the sun was beginning to turn the sky pink and orange. Maybe if you hurried, the wolves wouldn’t all want to kill you.

Unfortunately, as you entered the enclosure, the only wolf you were met with was Jack. That wasn’t to say you weren’t happy to see him, especially as he gave you the most endearing smile ever.

“Is there any way to feed the other wolves without getting my skin torn off?” you asked him. 

Jack shook his head and your heart sank. He seemed to notice your disappointment because he spoke up, “But you have me.”

“I know, Jack,” you sighed, “But I want to get to know the other wolves too.”

Jack’s smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed a little, “But you have me. I protect you.”

“I appreciate that, I really do,” you said in a soothing voice, “But I need to interact with all of the halflings, not just you.”

Jack’s expression darkened, his shoulders hunching over, “They’re dangerous. They hurt you. I can’t let anything happen to you,” his voice grew tight with emotion, and he looked down at you with such a lost expression that your heart twisted.

“Maybe if you help me, they will grow to like me,” you suggested. Jack shook his head and grabbed the buckets off the ground. Before you could protest, he disappeared into the forest.

You tried to follow, but he had completely left you behind. Soon enough, you were lost in the trees, looking this way and that, before Jack returned to you with empty buckets.

“They have eaten,” he said gruffly.

You sighed, “Thanks…” Jack didn’t seem to understand your disappointment, as he merely took your hand in his larger one and led you back to the enclosure exit. He smiled gently at you and said in a soft voice, “Safe.”

You couldn’t really argue with that.

Ruggie and Leona watched in amusement as the zoo staff brought out the body bags from the wolf enclosure across the path from them. “She’s becoming quite popular,” Leona murmured, “Enough for a wolf to turn against his own pack.”

Ruggie pouted, “I want her to be mine. Not anyone else’s.”

Leona chuckled darkly, “You’ll have to put those thoughts aside if you really want to take our deal. You know that a war against lions who obey only me and hyenas that will run away with their tails between their legs will end in only one way.”

Ruggie’s ears flattened against his head, “I’ll share, but only with you. Three’s a crowd.”

The lion nodded, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[lilatreus]

Amora has been an on and off love interest for Loki. Personally I feel they def have romance there but aren’t able to commit bc both have trust issue. I’d like to see them open up to each other more in the future. She’s probably the only decent love interest for him rn

I don’t think they should get together at all. I understand that they have history, however Loki is just not someone that I think should be in a relationship not now or later and the same goes with Amora too.

If marvel really truly wanted to give loki a love interest they should do it with a new character to give him that clean slate, but even then I feel like is too much. It’s not that I don’t think loki is deserving of love in the comics (or the mcu for that matter), I just think loki isn’t in the right place to even get a love interest much less have that love interest be Amora of all people.

[moonstruckme]

My stomach hurts so bad!! I feel so sick Bb do u think u could write a fic with James or Steve with a super sick gf???

I'm sorry about your stomach babe! Hopefully you're feeling much better by now, thank you for requesting

cw: food poisoning (no vom or anything, just mentioned)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 615 words

You whine, curling in on yourself like you can squash your insides into numbness. “I feel so gross,” you whine. 

“You are pretty gross,” Steve replies, knuckles running up and down your arm. 

You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, appalled. “You’re not supposed to agree with me!” 

“What?” Your boyfriend gives you a disbelieving look. “I didn’t say you were hideous, but you are definitely grosser than usual. Like, if we’re taking you on your best day, this is at least thirty percent more gross than that. I can’t agree with that?” 

“No!”

“In that case, I think you’re delirious with fever, babe. I never said anything about you being gross.” 

Despite yourself, a reluctant little chuckle puffs out of you. Steve grins. 

“Even if you were gross,” he drags his palm down the length of your back, letting it curve over your hip to your thigh before starting back in the other direction, “you’d still be way hotter than anyone else I’ve ever seen. It’s only fair that you get gross every now and then. You know, to make everyone else feel better.” 

“I don’t think everyone else is that worried about it,” you say. 

“That’s where I think you’re wrong. Think about it: we eat at the same place we go to all the time, and only you get food poisoning? That’s not chance, that is a planned attack.” 

You look up at him amusedly. “You think this was an assassination attempt?” 

“I mean, without the killing part, probably, but yeah.” 

You hum, settling back in on his lap. “You’re starting to sound like your nerd friends.” 

Steve’s mouth drops open playfully. “I am not! And anyway, if you tune out Wheeler’s brother, sometimes they’re making some good points.” 

You start to smile just before another cramp seizes your middle, rolling through you with a wave of nausea. Steve’s grip on you tightens as your eyes screw shut. 

“Shit.” He sounds part sympathetic and part like he might be in pain himself, one hand worming underneath your arms to rub at your stomach. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it sucks. All we can do is ride it out, and it should be gone by morning.” 

You make a small, distressed sound. “We don’t even know if it’s food poisoning.” 

“Nah, it is.” 

Steve’s massaging helps, and gradually the pain lessens. You take deep breaths until you can think clearly again. 

“How are you so sure?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “It’s just the only thing that makes sense. You’re just getting whatever it was out of your system. You’ll be good as new soon, just you wait.” 

You shoot him a dubious look. “What, you think you’re a doctor now?” 

“No, but I kinda look like I could play one on TV, right?” At your bewildered silence, Steve goes on, his hand still moving gently over your stomach. “I’m just saying, have you ever seen those soap operas in the hospitals? If they came out to Hawkins to do their casting calls, I’d be snatched up in a hot second, babe.” 

You study him. Steve is undeniably handsome, this isn’t new information. He has a firm brow paired with sweetheart eyes and mussable hair, plus a classical sort of bone structure that’s humanized by the odd blemish or mole. Nice skin and a nicer smile. Good hands, too, one of which is currently caressing your hurting stomach while the other plays with the ends of your hair. 

“Nope,” you say, completely lovestruck. “I don’t see it.”

“That’s okay.” Steve gives the pudge of your stomach a gentle squeeze. “It’s just the fever getting to you again.”