#which i pulled a foil of last night

[lunapwrites]

Nothing worse than when your partner says something really fucking funny and you go to immortalize it in no context text form and you have already forgotten the punchline.

Bean please for the love of God can I have at least one of my brain cells back. I am begging you.

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day

[jupipedia]

— mine yours. - s. gojo. playboy!gojo x reader. warnings : nsfw [ minor do not interact!! ], cunnilingus, orgasm denial, possessive!gojo, praising, lowkey angst, tbh this is pretty tame, not beta read lol, idk if i missed anything !

gojo was infuriating to say the least.

he was beyond spoiled, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he was used to the best. he had the best clothes, the best schools, the best friends, and even the best women. he's known for having a new girl every now and then, always just as beautiful as the last, driving them around his luxury car until he got bored of them and dropped them.

he's used to getting his way every time, not settling until things were in his favor. he hates being told no when he wants something. he's persistent in all of the wrong ways and for all of the wrong reasons.

however, you couldn't bring yourself to complain as he was knuckles deep into your core, curling his fingers perfectly as he sucked on you clit. your hands were tangled in his white hair, back arched off of your comforter as you withered in pleasure.

the arrangement between the two of you was a bit different that gojo was used to. the girls he was with usually like being shown off. they liked being spoiled with the little gifts he would give them. they would brag about him to anyone who would listen, even going as far to post pictures of the two of them kissing, not that he minded.

you, on the other hand, acted like he barely existed despite spending almost every night in his bed and almost every morning eating at his house, wearing one of his shirts. you didn't go out of your way to see him, you didn't accept any of the things he bough you aside from a necklace on your birthday, hell you didn't even speak to him when you were in the same room if other people were there. he would be lying if he said his pride wasn't hurt.

"got the sweetest pussy, pretty girl," he muttered around your clit, the vibrations adding to the stimulation as you tightened your grip on his hair. he'd spent the last half hour between your legs, having pulled three powerful orgasms from you. he would deny you your release and have the ache build up a few times which led to an earth-shattering orgasm that made your ears ring and vision blur.

"everything about you is just so cute," he released your clit and took one last swipe through your folds before he began to kiss up your torso, stopping to deliver a harsh suck at each nipple before continuing his path to your lips. "so. fucking. cute."

"toru," you whined out as he removed his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to his lips to suck clean before kissing you deeply, your heady taste present on his tongue.

"patience, beautiful. you and i need to have a little chat," he said, opening the foil of the condom with his teeth and rolling it on. as he lined himself up with your entrance, he spread your legs, offering himself a full view of your cunt.

"we have to talk right now? it can't wait—ah!" gojo ignored your words, pushing slowly into your heat and pausing when he was mostly inside.

"please move," you tried to thrust your hips, but gojo was quick to pin them back to mattress.

"here's how this is gonna go. i'll move as much as you want me to, but you don't get to cum until you say that you're mine," he groaned in your ear, unable to resist the shiver crawling up his spine as he settled deeper into your core. you tossed your head back as the tip of his cock scraped your walls deliciously.

"didn't know—fuck!" your snarky remark died on your tongue as he suddenly began to thrust his hips, setting a pace that numbed your mind.

"you can keep the sarcastic remarks. not interested in those right now," he grunted, biting down on your shoulder, hoping to ground himself. your mind grew foggy as you grew closer to your release. you couldn't form coherent words, let alone fulfill gojo's request.

you weren't totally clueless as to where this behavior came from. if anyone asked you if you even knew gojo, you would deny it without hesitation. it didn't matter how many times he fucked you or how many late night dates the two of you went on, you would not admit to dating the man.

and it wasn't even to save face, you just didn't think what you and gojo had going on was that serious. you knew his track record and thought it'd be best to skip any unnecessary future drama that would come with being "satoru's girl".

"'t-toru~ i'm gonna—n-no, please~," you whined as gojo's thrusts paused as your release approached.

"aht aht aht, you haven't said it so you don't get to cum," he said, continuing his pace when he was sure your pending orgasm subsided.

"satoru please! i just wan' cum on your cock," you whined in his ear, arching your back as he grazed your g-spot.

"and i wanna hear you say that you're mine. mine to kiss. mine to hold. mine to fuck," he emphasized his sentences with harsh thrusts. "my girl."

"why—ah! why w-would i say that when y-you aren't mine? i k-know how you work, 'toru," you pushed out, forcing yourself to focus on speaking as he fucked you dumb.

gojo paused in his thrusts to look at you, disbelief painting his face. "you think i spend my friday nights watching scooby doo movies with you just so i can fuck you? you think i wake up before you to cook you breakfast just so i can get some pussy? you think that i help you go over your proposals a thousand time as test runs because i just want to have sex with you? i must've fucked you stupid or something because that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard you say."

"'toru, you know that's not what i meant. i was just saying—fuck!" your arms shot out to hold gojo's hips, hoping to stop his resumed thrusting.

"i know you meant, pretty," he hummed as he picked up his pace. "change of plans. you can come as many times as you want, but i'm not stopping until you understand that not only are you mine, but i'm yours. got it?"

fuck, you were in for a long night.

© JUPIPEDIA. all rights reserved.

[strang3lov3]

Have your cake and eat it too

Summary: enemies AND lovers, you’re feeling in need of some attention and oops! You make Joel come in his favorite pair of jeans. So he makes you clean up your mess.

Warnings: Rough sex, cum eating, enemies AND lovers, joel is sort of mean, actually he’s very mean, brat taming Joel, this is filthier than i’ve done before, handjobs, age gap, unprotected piv, cream pie. What’s new. 

WC: 3k

A/N: surprise! happy tuesday night! i worked on this all day. this was a little out of my element lol so i will just leave this here

It’s too loud in here, Joel thinks. His ears are ringing. It’s Tommy’s birthday party tonight, which is cause for celebration. But Joel’s not much for socializing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. 

He had a simple plan, the same plan he always had. A quick hi and bye, maybe one drink, and he’ll be home within the hour. You, however, foiled that plan. When you sidled up next to him in his booth, he knew he was in trouble. His plan had changed. Tonight would be a two, three, or four kind of drink night. Poor dude. You give the man brain damage and drive him to drink.

You’re sitting a little too close to Joel in his booth, pressing your body against his side and resting your hand on his thigh. He’s firm and cold, unmoving. Like a boulder. You’ve been missing him, his body. His warmth. 

It’s been some time since you’ve last fucked Joel. You were fucking on the down low for quite a while, until about three weeks ago when his face was buried in your neck and your tits bouncing against him. His arms pulled you down to be flush against his torso, fucking himself into your body hard and fast. Just how you like. 

“S’is the last time,” he had muttered. “M’serious. Can’t be doin’ this anymore.”

You pouted, knowing what his next words would be. He’s too old, you’re too young. He’s dead meat if this ever gets out. And so on.

“Scoot,” Joel says gruffly. “Sittin’ too damn close.”

You don’t move. So he shoves you, maybe a little too hard. Your hand is still on his thigh and you roll your eyes before reclaiming your place next to him. Joel sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re watching him intently, a sickly sweet smile on your lips, but he won’t look at you. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, trailing your hand from his mid thigh down to his knee. He pushes your head off of his shoulder, but you keep trailing your hand up and down his leg. Getting closer and closer to the part of him you miss the most.

Joel’s showing no reaction. He’s paying you no mind as he sips his drink. When your hand finally reaches his inner thigh, you bite down on your smile. With careful subtlety, your wandering fingertips find his bulge. 

Too far. 

Joel jolts, his knee shooting upward and smacking the table. The rickety old table rocks loudly, and Tommy looks startled and confused from across the bar. Joel smiles politely and flashes him an awkward thumbs up, trying to play it cool. But he knows the stunt you’re trying to pull, and he is anything but cool.

“The fuck is the matter with you?” he hisses through his teeth.

“I miss you, Joel,” 

“I’ll bet you do. Now quit.”

You pout and Joel removes your hand. He kicks your leg with his boot, his own special way of telling you to pound sand. It’s rather rude, you think. So you decide to retaliate, and scoot right back next to him. This time, you don’t bother with the whole trailing your palm up and down his thigh song and dance. You go in for the kill, palming his bulge with reckless abandon.

You’re looking at him with wide eyes, and he recognizes that look. Mischievous. His eyes are icy and fiery all at the same time as he pierces right through you with his own gaze. “What did I just say?” 

You don’t bother answering. He’ll get the picture. 

You pop the button of his jeans before unzipping them, cocking an eyebrow as you reach for his half-hard cock. He’s not wearing any boxers. 

He grumbles your name in a warning tone, that same warning tone he always uses when you annoy him. Of course, you don’t heed his warning. You grasp his cock and begin working him. Joel, pissed off beyond measure, grips your wrist between his fingers and squeezes. Hard. It hurts, but you’re persistent. You can still move your fingers. 

“You cannot be doin’ this right now. Not here,” Joel grits. 

“I know,” you murmur softly into his ear, your breath tickling his skin. His breath hitches at that. “So fuck me. Please. I need you.”

Joel exhales deeply, trying to remain composed. He’s counting back from ten, a technique he’d learned on his quest to control his anger. You were the one who inspired that quest, actually.

“Need to taste you, Joel. Miss you so much.”

He’s missed you too. Not that he’ll ever tell you that, or even admit it to himself. But the thought of you on your knees with your wide eyes, your tongue swirling around his tip, how he pushes himself deeper down your throat and you just let him…It’s a compelling argument. But really, he needs to be done with you. Like he’s said before, it’s wrong. And his patience with you is wearing thin.

“It’s not happenin’. Now quit.” 

“Sorry Joelie, I didn’t hear you. What was that?”

His body betrays him as grows harder with every swipe of your thumb over his swollen and blushed tip, slightly sticky and damp with his precum. You’re driving him up a wall.

“Do you wanna find out how this ends? Knock it. The fuck. Off.” 

You’re a lost cause. He knows this. You’ve never listened to him, not once. Whatever can be argued, will be argued. So Joel decides to play a different game with you. 

“You know what? Keep it up. Watch what happens.”

His new plan: don’t engage. He thinks as long as he pays you no mind, you’ll tire yourself out, get frustrated. Leave his godforsaken booth and burn your energy off with some other fuck.

Joel’s jaw clenches and twitches as he tries to ignore your touch, only, he’s severely underestimated just how badly he misses you too. And how much you’ve been missing him, because Jesus Christ. You’re doing a number on him. In an embarrassingly quick period of time, his cock is twitching erratically and he’s close, and he didn’t intend to be. He can’t help it. The way you pump your fist up and down his hard shaft like you own it, your soft hands and the friction they create.

“Seriously, you got–fuck. I told ya to stop,” Joel stutters, still gripping your wrist. You love this effect you have on him. “S’not funny. Quit.”

“But I’m not laughing at you, Joel,” you purr quietly in his ear. He’s panting, chest heaving. A puddle under your touch. “I just miss you so much.”

“That’s not-I didn’t-fuck–” 

You cut him off by pressing your lips to that sweet spot on his neck, swirling your tongue and biting him gently. His weakness.   

And then before he realizes it, he’s spilling into his jeans and onto your fist. He’s a moaning, whimpering mess when he comes. Biting his lip to try and quiet himself. You smile with sick satisfaction at your work, his eyes squeezed shut and his forehead slightly damp with sweat.   

Joel opens his eyes slowly and his gaze falls to his lap, where your hand is now leaving. 

“God bless it,” he snaps.

Ruined. His favorite pair of jeans, ruined. 

He glares at you as you lick his spend off your fingertips. You scoot out of the seat to leave Joel and the mess you’ve made of him. You got what you wanted. 

Joel huffs loudly through his nose. He’s fuming.  His pants are a mess, his cheeks are flushed. Delicately, he zips himself up.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ help yourself, could you?”

Joel slides out of his seat, grabs you by the bicep and marches you right out the back door. He’s mastered the art of the Irish Goodbye. It’s his specialty, really. 

“We’re leavin’,” he growls, and his tone tells you that you might be in for more than you’ve bargained for. Not that you’re complaining.

“But I didn’t have any cake,” you protest half seriously.

“Think you did, actually,” Joel counters. He’s got a vice grip on your arm as he marches you through Jackson, his fingertips no doubt bruising you. “N’ya can eat it too, princess.” 

Joel’s never been so pissed off. Never walked home so quickly. You’re having trouble keeping up with him, so he yanks you forward. He keeps a firm grip on you as he guides you home.

“Joel, my arm. You’re hurting me.”

Like he gives a flying fuck. You’re not the one smearing your own come on yourself with every step.

He marches you all the way back to his home in less than seven minutes. He’s shoving you inside, ushering you up to his bedroom. You’re tripping up the steps nervously. He watches in irritation. 

When you’re in his bedroom, he shoves you onto his unmade bed. His sheets smell like man and nothing more, a mixture of soap and cologne and sweat. He’s silent as he strips out of his jeans and tosses them in front of you. The crotch is damp with his come, still sticky and wet. 

“You did that,” he says flatly. “That’s my favorite pair of jeans.” 

Really? He has a favorite pair of jeans?

“So you’re gonna clean ‘em up.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You laugh in confusion. Joel’s not amused.

He continues, “Lick it up. Maybe f’ya do a good job, I’ll go easy on ya. But you’re in for it now, princess. Pissed me off back there.”

You’re frozen, watching him like a deer in the headlights. It seems as though you’ve gone too far. Joel’s not really a nice guy. He’s always had a mean streak. But never has he looked so angry with you before. The bruise from his grip on your arm is throbbing. 

So Joel sighs, rolls his eyes and takes two imposing steps in front of you. His large, masculine hand reaches forward, first to gently hold and caress your jaw. He looks at you with sympathy, almost. But it’s gone in an instant. He shoves your head down, your nose nudging the sticky mess in his jeans. 

Now you get it. What he meant by you ‘cleaning’ up his jeans. You hesitate. It’s a lot of come.

“You gonna make me tell you again? Go on, now. Get your ass to work.”

He pulls your hair away from your face and you dip your tongue into his pants. His come is still warm and wet. It tastes salty and heady, not unlike it usually does. The denim is rough on your tongue. “There ya go. All of it.”

Joel kneels behind you, pulling your hips up and pushing you down further into his old mattress. He reaches to undo your pants, your tummy lurches when his fingertips skate across the flesh. His hand slithers south, dipping inside you for a moment. Your breath hitches in your throat and you moan. Just one of his fingers. It’s all you’ve been needing. 

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“N-no.”

“Do not fuckin’ test me. M’not in the mood.”

Part of you wants to push his limits a little further, but that flat tone in his voice and his cold eyes tell you to obey. So you continue licking. Joel hums in satisfaction and removes the single digit from inside you, then licks it clean. He’s already hard again. His member bounces between your thighs as he situates himself, then he notches his tip at your entrance. Before you can even register what he’s doing, he plunges into you, burying himself deep inside your heat. 

You gasp in pain. The stretch burns your skin as he parts your insides, his tip kisses your cervix. “Joel,” you cry.

He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. “Keep goin’.”

He doesn’t give you a moment’s notice before pulling out of you all the way and slamming his hips against you again. 

“Slow down,” you beg. “Please, I need a minute.”

Ignoring you, he sets his own pace. Hard, fast, and deep. Usually, he’s a bit more of a gentleman with you than this. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “Ya always do.”

“Joel, m’serious,” you mumble into his crumpled jeans. Your pussy is already aching and stinging with the friction. You’ll be feeling him for days if he doesn’t ease up. You try to pull forward, make some space between your bodies. Joel doesn’t allow that. Instead, he pulls you back, impaling you on his cock. Hard. Cruel. Unforgiving. His fingernails are cutting into your skin and he slaps your ass. You let out a sharp cry.

“Keep bitchin’,” he breathes. “I do not care. Seems to me like you can dish it but you can’t take it, huh? Doesn’t feel very good t’be used, does it?”

You don’t answer. Your lip is pinned under your teeth as you try to focus your attention away from the sting and the burn.

“S’what I thought. You know how much nicer you are when you shut the fuck up? Ya should do it more, sweetheart.”

He keeps fucking you. It’s a strange sort of pleasure, painful and too much yet not quite enough. Still, you savor the feeling. You’ve missed his body and what he does to yours, even if he’s not particularly kind to you. You don’t care. You’ll take him any way he’ll have you.

“Fuckin’ makin’ me bust in my jeans,” he mumbles to himself. He’s always preferred listening to his own voice instead of yours. He thinks you make some pretty noises, though. “Un-fucking-believable.” He seems lost in it all. He’s there, but not really. Like he’s a machine, not even human. You wish you could see his face before doing what you’re about to do, knowing you’re not in a position to piss him off further. It’ll be a leap of faith.

Subtly, you shift and bring your fingertips to your clit. Your face presses into his jeans, and you can feel the hot stickiness on your cheek. Just as you think you’re about to pull one over on him and find some relief, Joel grabs both of your arms and pins them behind your back.  

“Please, Joel. Need more than this, please,” you beg. 

“Uh huh. I know, Cinderella,” he taunts you. “I’ll think about it. You finish your chores first. My jeans better be spotless. Get that through your skull. Spotless.”

So you keep going, keep licking. Your tongue is sore and aching. He fucks you hard and rough at a merciless pace. It’s cruel, nearly sadistic. Even for Joel.

You’re exhausted. Your tongue and your jaw hurt worse than when he fucks your mouth. Tears are welling in your eyes and you lay your head next to the denim, unsure if you’ve even finished the job.

“Lemme see.” Joel leans forward, then clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he examines your work. “Look at that. That look spotless to you?”

“Mhm,” you lie. It’s so much, you couldn’t possibly lick it all up. It's an unrealistic and frankly brutal expectation he has of you to do so. But, he did warn you.

“Think you’re bullshittin’ me. M’deaf, sweetheart. Not blind.” 

You whimper in defeat, Joel recognizes that sound and smiles crookedly to himself. He thinks you have a lot of misplaced confidence, specifically when you interact with him. He loves fucking you like this, like he owns you. Reminding you of your place beneath him. It’s for your own good, really. “Joel, please, I can’t do this anymore.”

“You really do sound so pretty cryin’ for me. But you shoulda’ thought of that before pullin’ that stunt back there at the bar,” He coos sweetly, as if you were supposed to know that this is how he’d punish you. “Keep goin’. Eat it up. If I have to tell ya again, you’ll be in deeper shit. Now lick.”

He hovers over you, making sure you do a job well done. The slight change in position sends you reeling, you’re moaning and crying his name incoherently. He’s reaching new ground with every thrust, brushing past that sweet spot inside of you. Your pussy makes slick, sticky sounds. 

Your tongue is raw. You adjust his jeans to find any remnants of his spend. Surely, surely you’ve licked it all. 

And at last, Joel hums in satisfaction. You hear the sound of him spitting into his hand as he finally drops your arms, allowing you to support yourself. Wordlessly, he finds your clit, swollen and needy for him. You moan long and breathlessly at the relief his touch brings. 

“Alright now, settle down. Jesus Christ.”

Joel circles your clit with his fingertips for mere seconds before you begin pulsing around him. You whimper his name like a prayer, your voice muffled by his jeans and sheets. Your orgasm washes over you and you shudder, tears of relief or something else falling from your eyes. Maybe you missed him more than you had realized.

Your release beckons his own. Joel comes for the second time that evening, grunting and groaning as he paints your walls with his thick loads. His thrusts change from erratic to slow before he pulls out of you and you collapse, falling to the side of his messy bed. You’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Even after fucking you relentlessly hard for god knows how long, Joel somehow has enough energy to sit up at the edge of the bed. His skin is sweaty, his tummy rolls slightly as he slouches. His hair is tousled and his gaze soft as he reaches for his jeans to fully examine your work. Of course, they’re still a mess. He'll be on the hunt to find a new pair of jeans that fit like the pair he--you ruined. Another pair that squeeze his ass cheeks just so, like they were crafted for him by Levi Strauss himself. He knows what his jeans do to you. Why your eyes always seem wander south. You can't help yourself. Joel's got cake and he knows it.

 “Good effort,” he says, slapping your ass affectionately, though you hardly register it.

He leaves you on the bed and dresses himself, this time wearing a different pair of jeans. He’s about to leave, and he tells you to stay there and to get cleaned up.

“Where are you going?”

Joel shrugs. “Gettin’ you a slice of cake, dummy. What else would I be doin’?”

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[maxislvt]

Sink Your Teeth In

pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader

summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.

warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon

a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed

Event Masterlist

Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that. 

Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.

So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.

Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not. 

Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there. 

Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold. 

You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.

"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling. 

You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you.  Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."

Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for. 

Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest. 

Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided. 

You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her. 

"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"

"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine." 

The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked. 

Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."

You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink. 

Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home. 

You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat. 

"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle. 

A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses. 

She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."

You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn. 

"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend." 

The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble. 

Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum. 

Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled. 

Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.

Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened. 

Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.

“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”

[golbrocklovely]

complicated // colby brock (pt. 2)

A/N: hilariously when i first drafted this, i was gonna make it a lot meaner/hate fucking like, with a lot of jealousy thrown in. but damnit, bridgerton has foiled my plans again and has really turned me into a lover lol so i made this a little bit softer than originally planned. hope yall like it regardless, and please let me know what you think :) see yall with another fic real soon !

prompt: time has passed since you and sam hooked up, and all seems well. except now… colby is upset with you for some unknown reason. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, angst, jealous!colby, possessive!colby, he's still really sweet tho, you guys were out clubbing so... tipsy/drunk sex, mentions of: baby, good girl, darling, cursing, quasi-public sex, could almost get caught, lots of teasing (both sexually and non), mentions of colby having seen you and sam hooking up, sweet ending :)

word count: 3066

~~~~~~~

The morning after Sam and I had sex was awkward to say the least.

We both ignored each other, which was easy since Sam and Colby had many calls and business related things to do. And I, being their assistant, had my own tasks at hand for the following week to start.

But when Sam and I were finally able to sit down and talk about it, it went surprisingly well.

We came to two very important conclusions: one, while we had fun, we weren’t going to ever do it again. We cared too much about our friendship to let sex ruin it. Plus the spark really had only been there that night.

And two, we were to never tell Colby.

Everything seemed good for a while. Life got back into the swing of things; Sam and Colby were traveling, I was handling the business side while they were gone. Normal, boring life occurred.

But all the while, I had this strange feeling. Maybe it was due to the fact that Colby had grown cold towards me, almost standoffish. He sometimes would keep to himself, that wasn't unusual; but his demeanor around me became stiff, almost like he was upset at me.

I wanted to confront him, ask him what was wrong, but it never felt like the right time. When the right time finally did come, it was during a couple days stretch where the boys had off. One night when we went out and both came home empty handed, I decided to finally ask him.

His answer was not at all what I was expecting, but in a way it was the one I wanted to hear all along.

I wanted the truth and now I was finally getting it.

~~~~~~

“No way. I cannot believe you used to run away from cops for a living.” Nicole, Sam’s new… friend, said as we walked into Sam and Colby’s house.

A playful look rested on Sam’s face as he nodded. “Yeah, and we did it pretty well.”

“Up until you got arrested.” I chimed in, smirking.

She gasped. “Oh my God, you got arrested? For what?”

“Breaking and entering. And fake ids.” Colby explained.

“Woah woah, the fake ids were just a you charge, Colby.” Sam replied defensively.

“And that was the first and last time Sam and Colby were separated ever again.” I quipped.

Colby turned to look at Sam, a faux-pained expression on his face. “I just can't quit you.”

“Me neither, brother.” Sam sniffled, pretending to hold back tears. The both placed hands on each others' shoulders, giving a tight squeeze.

Nicole glanced back and forth at Sam, Colby, and me, amused. “You guys are so funny. I have been having such a blast all night.”

“I'm happy to entertain you for as long as you'd like.” Sam lowered his voice to an almost sultry tone, moving to her side.

She bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “Maybe you could do that alone? Upstairs, perhaps?"

Sam gave a cheeky look at me and Colby, "I'll see you guys later."

Nicole giggled as she pulled Sam up the stairs, Sam following suit as he whispered something to her and snickered. I peered over at Colby, waiting for Sam's door to shut before speaking. "Well, she seems nice."

“Yeah she's sweet.” Colby agreed, pulling out his phone. He began to walk to the kitchen, and I followed him.

“So... what do you plan to do the rest of the night?” I asked.

He mumbled. “Might order some postmates, then call it a night.”

“Exciting.” I deadpanned, slightly annoyed at him. I changed the subject, thinking that was the cause, “That new club we went to was a lot of fun. The live music was so cool to hear.”

“Yeah it was.” Colby didn't look up, continuing to scroll through his phone.

I sighed, exhausted. “You know, you've been acting this way all night with me.”

“Like what?” He exhaled, finally looking up.

“Short. To the point.” I stated.

He shrugged. “I don't feel like being social.”

I scrunched my face at him, “It was your idea to go out tonight.”

“My social battery ran out really fast then.” Colby blinked, frowning.

“It's not just tonight though. You've been like this for over a week at this point. I thought maybe it was because of work, but....” I trailed off, unsure.

He pursed his lips, “What?”

“You're icing me out. What did I do?” I questioned, stepping towards him.

He moved back, shaking his head. “I don't want to talk about this.”

I followed him. “Well I do. So talk.”

“Okay, if you really want to talk…” He rubbed his eyes for a moment, finally speaking. “Do you have something to tell me?”

My heart stopped. “What?”

He repeated, his eyes icy. “Do you have something to tell me?”

I sucked my teeth, knowing exactly what Colby was referring to. “...I'm gonna kill Sam.”

He chuckled darkly, “Oh, no no. Don't get pissed at the guy that told me what happened.”

I huffed, “We promised each other not to tell you.”

“He folded real quick on that.” Colby crossed his arms, leaning against the counter.

I stared up at him, puzzled. “When did he tell you?”

“A couple days after it happened.” He informed.

I groaned, spinning to yell towards the stairs, “He really went behind my back and just flat out told you. What the fuck, Sam?!”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Colby argued.

I turned back, “Oh, c'mon Colby. You know why.”

“No please, do tell. I would love to hear why.” He jeered.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “Do you think I want to tell one of my best friends 'hey just so you know, me and your other best friend, who is also my friend, fucked'? Of course not!”

“Why? You shouldn't feel uncomfortable doing that. Since you did it so publicly, in this very room, might I add.” He shot back.

My eyes widened for a second. “He told you we fucked in the kitchen?”

“No. He's too nice for that.” Colby stepped towards me, almost looming over me. “Do you remember a couple months back when we thought someone was trying to break into the house, so we got extra security cameras installed?”

I crossed my arms defensively, “What does that have to do with this?”

“We didn't get the cameras installed just outside the house. We also got some installed in the common areas. One in the living room....” He leaned down, whispering. “And one in the kitchen.”

“You're kidding.” My breath hitched involuntarily. 

“Any and every movement that happens in these areas gets recorded. When Sam told me you two fucked, I thought he was joking. But I checked…” His voice fell off, an almost smirk coming to his face.

I stuttered, “Y-You-?”

“You really know how to put on a performance.” Colby spoke condescendingly, staring into my eyes with a mischievous glint.

I scoffed, putting space between us. “Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes, “You wish.”

I glared, exhaling harshly. “You know, you're acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“Really?” He sassed.

“Yeah. Why the fuck do you care if I slept with Sam? You've never cared about who he hooks up with. But you suddenly care when it's me?" I scowled.

“I care who he hooks up with.” He argued.

I placed my hands on my hips, “Name me literally one girl he's gotten with within the last month or two. Any of them.”

“Nicole is upstairs with him now.” He remarked sarcastically.

I narrowed my gaze, “She doesn't count.”

“Sorry I don't memorize all of their names. I don't need to really remember them since I'm not the one sleeping with them.” Colby bickered, turning away from me.

I thought for a moment, a realization appearing in my mind, “Any time I've almost hooked up with someone, you've always been so aggressive towards them afterwards. But now since it was Sam, you're angry with me.”

“I'm upset because you didn't tell me. Instead, you wanted to keep it a secret from me. That's why I'm pissed.” He rebutted, facing me once more.

“But what's the difference between Sam telling you or me telling you? You've known basically since it happened, why are you still holding it against me?” I sneered, “Unless, of course, you're jealous.”

He queried angrily, “Jealous of what, exactly?”

“You're jealous I didn't sleep with you.” I hissed.

He shook his head, his voice faltering. “Give me a break, Y/N.”

“No no, be honest Colby. Why else are you pissed? You found out a week ago, and have held it against me just because I wasn't the one that told you. You found out regardless, so what is there to be pissed about?” I searched his eyes, but he tilted his head away from my glare. “It's none of your fucking business who I sleep with, whether it's Sam, the guy down the street, or a random guy at the club. You're not my boyfriend. I'm allowed to fuck whoever I want to!”

I spun on my heel, but Colby's hand gripped my wrist, spinning me back to him. My eyes locked with his for a brief moment as he grabbed my face, kissing me deeply. I shuddered a breath, taken aback by how passionate the kiss was. Colby wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against him, as his other hand pulled on my hair lightly.

“You're right, Y/N. I hate how fucking right you always are.” He nipped at my lips, a low groan leaving his mouth. “Do you know how frustrating it is seeing you with other guys? Seeing them put their hands on you, when that's all I can think about doing?”

“Colby!” I gasped quietly, our mouths meeting again. He pressed me against the counter, the spot feeling eerily similar on my back.

Was this the same spot as-?

“I shouldn't have been a dick to you, I'm sorry. But I will never apologize for wanting you all to myself.” His voice came out in an almost growl, “I want you to be mine, and mine alone.”

My mouth fumbled over my words, my hands gliding up his back. “W-Why didn't you just say that? Why now?”

“Seeing you fuck Sam in here weirdly was the wake up call I needed,” he chuckled bitterly. “I thought that maybe all this time I was just overly protective but no... I am jealous. I don’t want to see you with anyone else ever again.”

Colby's hand lifted up my leg, wrapping it around his waist. He slowly inched his fingers higher and higher until he was under my dress, tickling the lining of my underwear. “Let me show you how badly I want you. Please.”

My knees almost buckled at the sound of his voice. The desperation. I nodded, unable to form words, and his hand slowly slid up more until he pressed his palm against my sex. I squeaked unintentionally, a smirk coming to his face. He rubbed slow circles into my clit, my back arching instantly.

“You're already soaking through your panties... Fuck me.” He grunted.

I bit my lip, “Seeing you jealous is honestly kind of a turn on.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? You like making me jealous? You like me being possessive of you?”

“I like hearing you admit you like me, so if that does the trick…” I trailed off, teasingly.

He pressed harder into my clit, a moan ripping through me when he did. He moved his mouth down, sucking on my neck in time with his movements.

My hands snaked down his torso, touching every muscle on my way to his belt. I clutched the buckle, loosening his belt from his pants. I slipped my hand inside, cupping his growing bulge. He gasped, grinding his cock into my hand.

He closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck baby, that feels so good.”

My cunt clenched at the sound of his voice, needing him deeply. “Please Colby. Fuck, I want you so badly.”

“I need you too, Y/N.” Colby exhaled harshly, “Spin around for me.”

I glanced at him for a moment, shocked by the hunger in his eyes. I turned around, placing my hands on the counter. The cool surface felt like ice against my hot skin, the hairs on my arms standing on end. I heard a package ripping, Colby sliding a condom on that he grabbed from his wallet. Suddenly his hands were on me, pulling the skirt of my dress up until it rested above my ass. He rolled my panties down, his hands massaging my thighs on their way back up.

“You ready for me?” His voice dripped with an aching need: me.

I breathlessly sighed, “Yes, please.”

He pushed my legs open, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I mewled at the feeling, backing my hips up until my ass hit his crotch. He groaned, his one hand gripping my hip while the other rested on my back.

Slowly he glided his cock inside of me, both of us holding our breaths as he did. I stretched around him, his size bigger than what I was used to. He filled me up more and more, my eyes fluttering in ecstasy. His body relaxed against mine once he was all the way in, a shuddering 'fuck' falling from his lips.

“Move, Colby. God, please!” I begged.

His hand moved around me to cover my mouth jokingly. "Shh, you can't be too loud. Don't want Sam and his girl to know what we're doing."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that they were lost in their own world and would give no shits about us fucking in here. Colby smirked against my skin, kissing and nibbling my neck and shoulders. His hand drifted back, running through my hair, tugging lightly. His hips began to move in low thrusts. I bit my lip to not moan loudly, but it was so hard. He felt like heaven, and way better than all of my dreams had imagined.

“God, you feel amazing, Y/N.” Colby whispered lightly, “So wet for me.”

I gripped the counter, holding myself into place as he bucked into me. I moved my hips in time with his, meeting him with each thrust.

His hands cupped my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into them. “You are fucking gorgeous, baby.”

I hummed a moan, my head lulling back. Colby's hand collided with my ass quickly, slapping it. I let out a small shriek, surprised by the impact.

“Colby!” I giggled, looking over my shoulder at him.

He grinned, his dimples appearing briefly. “Can't help it. Wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really? So you've been staring at my ass all this time?” I questioned.

“Oh yeah. Every chance I get.” He raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Perv.” I joked.

Colby laughed, sliding all the way inside of me and stopping. He pressed me against the counter, his hand drifting down and rubbing my clit. “And you're just like me.”

My eyes almost rolled back into my head from the pleasure. “H-how?”

“You're letting me fuck you right in the same spot Sam fucked you in. They could come down any minute and catch us. You want that to happen, don't you?” He grunted, his voice sounding like pure sex.

His fingers on my clit made it hard to think, let alone respond. I stuttered out a curse. His lips were against my ear, “You're mine from now on, you hear me? No one will ever touch you like this again besides me. Say it. Say you're mine.”

“I-I'm yours.” I whimpered.

“Again.” His hips started back up, fucking me harder against the counter than ever before.

“'M yours.” I slurred, my orgasm growing closer and closer.

He slapped my ass again, “Tell me one more time, darling.” 

“I'm yours! Fuck Colby, I'm yours!” I exclaimed, unable to hold back.

“That's my good girl! Fuck yourself on my cock. Do it.” Colby demanded.

I bounced on his dick, his fingers still rubbing my clit over and over again. I was panting, unable to hold back any noises that escaped my throat. My hand slid down to his hand on my clit, pressing him more into me. I gripped his wrist, my nails digging in.

“You close baby? You gonna fucking come for me?” He cursed, his thrusts picking up speed.

I cried out, “Pleaseeee Colbyyy, I wanna come!”

His other hand wrapped around my throat, lightly squeezing for a second. He taunted, “Shhh, you can't scream, Y/N. Even though I know you want to."

Colby pounded into me harder, guttural moans and the sounds of our skin slapping together filling the room.

His voice was hoarse, hungry. “I'm close, darling. Ffffuck you feel so good!”

I desperately whined back, white knuckling the counter as my high grew near. "I'm gonna fucking-!"

“That's it, Y/N. Come for me. Soak my cock and come!” Colby thundered.

My body exploded into an orgasm, my vision blurring. I cried out in ecstasy and pleasure, my hips bucking helplessly around his cock. Colby picked up his pace, thrusting into me passionately. His husky groans echoed in my ear as he came. His hands dug into my skin, his fingers curved as he rubbed my clit through my orgasm. I shook against him, my body finally relaxing against the counter as my pleasure subsided a minute later.

He rested his forehead against my back, spreading lazy kisses and licks across my shoulders and neck. I smiled, catching my breath slowly. His hands moved, softly caressing my skin as he stood up. He picked me up off the counter, spinning me back to face him. Resting me back against it, his body still against mine. His eyes scanned my face, taking in every detail.

“Hi.” He whispered sweetly.

I grinned, “Hi.”

“You okay?” He asked, lightly brushing my hair out of my face.

“Never better. You?” I giggled.

“I'm great.” Colby pecked my lips, pausing briefly. “I wasn't kidding when I said all of that, you know."

"I believe you." I breathed.

"So... you're still mine, right?” He murmured.

“Of course." I lowered my gaze bashfully, "And you're mine?”

He nudged my face up, our eyes locking. “Absolutely.”

<< part one ||

[mikkomacko]

i need a blurb of reader & the boys having a sleepover at her & nicos house. gossiping, snacking, watching tv i need the fluff!!!

i love love love how you write each character so much!!!

smooches x

It was like a scene out of a movie. The entire living room was turned into one large bed, air mattresses covering every inch of the carpeted floor.

Thick blankets, fluffy pillows, random stuffies you’d collected over the years strewn about in a way that looked messily placed. Soft fairy lights were strung up on the ceiling and around the mantel the tv hangs above.

The rest of the house was dark, save for the light that led to the dining room table where a feast of snacks welcomed everyone. You had everything; popcorn with Jacks favorite Parmesan cheese topping salt. Twizzlers and red vines because Luke and Mercer disagreed on which licorice was the best. Some kind of Italian soda and cannolis that Johnny loves, the ones with chocolate shavings on the ends. Mini Reese’s cups, the unwrapped ones, for Holtz because he likes them bite sized but he hates the foil wrapper.

And even though Nico would heavily frown, you’d ordered pizzas, Taco Bell, and McDonald’s for all the boys.

They all looked like kids on Christmas morning as they dropped their overnight bags by the door, kicking off their shoes and scrambling into the dining room. You did a head count, made sure all of them were accounted for before shutting the front door and turning the alarm system on.

“No freaking way!”

You followed after them, biting your lip to keep your excitement at bay as they all gathered around the table to find gifts at their respective chairs.

Fluffy slipper socks, red and black plaid pajama pants, and white t-shirts with red Devils horns. You’d even personalized them, adding in small fancy letters on the sleeve each of their nicknames amongst the group.

“We match!” Jack exclaims, having already stripped of his shirt and tugged on his pajamas. You proudly show off your own set that you’re already wearing, smile beaming as the boys all chatter over each other and scramble to get their pj’s on.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Mercer laughs, shirt half on as he grabs a bag of Twizzlers. He ducks by you, pressing a kiss in thanks to the side of your head before moving back to the living room.

One by one they all change and gather their snacks, following after Mercer into the living room. Johnny is the last to go, eyes moony and warm when he stacks a pile of cannolis on his plate.

“Cara,” he sighs, dramatically holding his hand over his heart. “Nico better hold onto you before I go out and buy a diamond ring.”

You and him both snicker, collecting your own snacks and following the others. They’ve all taken over the air mattresses, sprawled out with their food in their matching pajamas. That leaves the couch for you and Johnny, both snuggling under under the king sized comforter you’d taken from yours and Nico’s bed earlier.

“Alright what are we watching?”

Jack is flipping through Netflix, browsing the movies and you’re about to suggest a cartoon when your phone dings with a text from Nico.

Why is my doorbell cam showing hoards of boys at my house?

Giggling to yourself, you text back.

When the boss is away, the children will play

“Ooh boss likes that one!”

You look at the tv, see the square lighting up around Sex and the City the movie, and you realize Luke is talking about you, not Nico. Your cheeks warm.

“It’s a chick flick but it’s fun.” You comment, and that must be enough because a chorus of agreements rings out just as Nico texts back.

I only agreed to Alex coming over.

The boys all shush each other, Mercer climbing up to dim the lights before slipping back into the recliner.

I guess you’ll just have to come home and kick them out yourself….

Tonight is the one night a year that the original four Devs pull an all-nighter at the cafe. Something to do with plans and contracts for the upcoming year and instead of spreading it out weekly, they make themselves miserable for one whole night.

But you hate staying home alone so Nico agreed you could let Holtzy sleep over. But you couldn’t say no to Johnny either and then slowly but surely all the boys wanted to sleepover and what were you supposed to do? They want to hang out, watch out for you while Nico is gone for the night.

Before Nico can respond you double text, telling him the movie is starting and you’ll talk to him in a bit. Then you put it on silent and settle under the blankets, intently focused on the film.

You and the boys get through the first film and the first season of the show before you decide you need a break. Mostly because Luke and Jack are arguing over whether Big is actually hot or not, but you eventually swap the HDMI to the switch and pull up Mario Kart.

The game turns into a tournament, one you get knocked out of too quickly. So you slump onto the losers couch, Holtzy following you when he loses in the next round. And it’s not until he’s curling up into your side, thighs pressed together and your head resting on top of his that you realize how exhausted you are.

Slipping out your phone, you see it’s almost 3 am and that you’ve got a stack of unanswered texts from Nico.

What movie are you watching?

Ok I know it has to be over by now

Baby please I’m bored

Jonas makes really bad espresso shots and my tummy hurts

I want to be at the sleepover

They better not be in my bed btw

Fine, I’ll see you in the morning. Love you baby ♥️

Sleepily, you smile and text back.

Goodnight Nico, miss and love u

~~~~

Nico comes home in the early hours of the morning, sun barely rising in the sky. He’s exhausted and grumpy, just wants to curl up in his bed with you and sleep forever when he stops in his tracks.

All six of you are still in the living room, the Mario kart title screen on the large tv. Luke is half on a mattress, mouth open and hands clutching a controller to his chest. Johnny is next to him, his own controller laying on his stomach as he snores.

Jack and Mercer are both star-fished on the mattresses, Jack buried under almost all the blankets to the point that all Nico can see is his face.

He finds you next, lying on the large couch under the blankets from your bed. Alex is by your feet, his hand stretched out like at one point you had been holding it but now you’re just squeezing a pillow to your chest.

You look cute. Lips parted and hair messy, pajamas matching the boys and he can’t even be annoyed by the fact that you’ve deconstructed his bed and brought it down here. He just peels off his shoes and clothes until he’s in just his boxers, pushing his hair out of his face as he navigates the mattresses and limbs to get to you.

He pries the pillow from your hands, dropping it to the floor and slipping under the blankets next to you. It’s a tight fit, but even in your sleep you fit yourself into his chest.

Pressing a kiss to your head, Nico closes his eyes and settles into the cushions. He’s on the precipice of sleep when Alex’s hand finds his and Nico huffs, wrapping his fingers around the younger boys and squeezing just once.

He’ll have to remember to tell Alex never to mention this again. But that can wait until later.

[samicakes-exe]

May I ask when the Jeff fic is gonna get finished?🥺

Ahh! It's finally done and hopefully not too late! ♡♡♡ I hope you enjoy my first fic of 2023!!

ℍ𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕁𝔼𝔽𝔽 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕂𝕀𝕃𝕃𝔼ℝ ♡

warning: rough rough sex, BIG DEGRADATION STUFF, hair-pulling, it’s hate sex with a murderer sooooo, pain, fat-shaming??, you domming jeff???, use of feminine names and anatomy, unwanted cream pie, nipple biting and sucking, lot of biting, public kinda sex like you could get caught!, overall general nastiness, BARELY EDITED SMUT!

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤: around 4k

ℚ𝕌𝕀ℂ𝕂 𝕃𝕀𝕃 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋 𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋-

Jeff is a little shit- You know it. I know it.

Sooooo He teases the absolute fuck out of you! when you two aren’t fucking or at least making out: he won’t let you hear the end of it-

“You hate me huh?” “You don’t seem to hate me slut.”

People at the mansion would never guess that you two hook up most nights- since both of you are at each other throats insulting each other for everything under the sun.

Something about the insults, the yelling and the hard grip he had on you made you wet. Made you quiver, made you want this man that you hated.

You hated this man but couldn’t truly express that while you were clawing up the counter tops, him behind you rutting into your needy cunt hard.

you both needed this release.

You still hated each other.

Y’all just needed this just this once!!your bodies took ahold of you! This would be the last night of it.

until you two did it again

and again

fine- maybe you liked it more than what you wanted to admit.

♡♡♡

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!! ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕣:

It was early morning in the mansion, and the sun was barely poking its head over the old windowsills; It provided enough light for you to creep through the sleeping house, the only sound was the sharp creaks of the aged wooden floor. The nerves made you walk slower and they didn't truly settle until the pads of your feet touched the almost ice-like tile of the kitchen.

The kitchen was darker than the rest of the house, it was completely devoid of the warm peeks of the sunrise due to the thick curtains. You placed your hand flat on the wall and blindly felt around for seemingly a minute while you stared into the void that was the kitchen currently. Past a certain pattern of bumps: The tip of your finger thumped into the thick light switch, and in a flash, the odd staring contest with the darkness ended.

You beelined straight for the fridge which looked worse for wear. Slenderman doesn't make any unnecessary purchases, it still worked good so why buy a prettier one. Sure, it was tough to get it open but a hefty push from your sleep-riddled arms was just enough for this morning.

The buzzing lightbulb in the fridge made you press your eyes tight together and squeezed the remaining sleep out of them. Once again you were back in the dark, giving your eyes time to adjust from the soft light of the peeking sun and the sickly dim yellow lights above to the now almost heavenly fridge light.

Lucky for you, It only took a second.

And there it was: All of the food in the house currently. The cabinets were pretty bare aside from cleaning products and dishes that weren't either in the dishwasher or being used as makeshift tupper-ware. Standing there and soaking up that light that once blinded you. There were a couple of items your eyes were flicking between; A neat plastic container that held some sort of pasta, a tin foiled-wrapped paper plate mystery, and an unwrapped probably stale mash potatoes from a leftover tv dinner. Absolutely none of it looked particularly appetizing but the grumbling in your stomach didn't at all care, but before you could reach for one of your choices for breakfast your appetite dropped.

"Getting a nice tan, fat-ass?"

The hunger subsided but your stomach filled with the same feeling it always had when you heard that nails on a chalkboard voice of his. Of course, Jeff had to be the only one awake just to spite you when you think the whole house is asleep. You clenched your teeth tight until you felt a slight whirring in your jaw, hopefully, he would fuck off if you didn't respond but that only seemed to spur him on more.

"What are you now, deaf? C'mon toots you know how to say good morning the right way," Jeff's voice still had the sleepiness rasp to it. "Don't ya?"

Honestly, if it wasn't for him being so annoying you would find it quite sexy.

"What's the proper way to say good morning then?" Your voice was also raspy, it was the first thing you said this morning. Too bad that you wasted it on Jeff.

Jeff liked the raspiness more than he would admit, it reminded him of how you tend to scratch up your throat during your guy's screaming matches and how much worse it would get when you were screaming for a different reason. The very thought of a possible fuck made him want to start poking those few buttons he knew.

"Not fucking ignoring me for starters," Jeff smirked against the already scarred smile, making it stretch more. "And giving me a big smile babe."

Your eyes rolled before you even looked back at Jeff. He was leaning against the door frame, his black plaid pajama pants were hanging low on his thin build. The white tank of his was tighter than what you would think, all of it revealed his belly and revealed your favorite part personally: That thick happy trail of his which led to your second favorite part.

You flashed him the most fake smile you could muster, lips stretching against your teeth with how grand you were making it, "Uh-huh."

He couldn't help but smile back before biting his lower lip, Jeff's eyes were glued to your stretched lips. He leaned in closer to you, watching how your lips twitched against the strain "Uh-huh~"

Just as fast as you put that smile on, it dropped into your resting face aside from your lips which were in a slight frown. "Like calling me a fat-ass is such a better way, bleach boy."

It was now his turn for his eyes to roll, "Real mature Toots."

"Oh shove it up your ass Jeff."

Annoyance aside, he was genuinely letting his semi speak for him, and the way you insulted him almost made his semi not a semi anymore. Still, he needed another screaming match to fully get into the mood; deep down, he knew that you needed it too.

"A better way to say good morning to me toots is by sucking my cock."

Your face was stuck in disbelief, your eyes flicked up and down his whole being. You were dumbfounded but when you saw a noticeable bulge in his pajama pants you immediately knew why he was saying this. You let disgust run all over your body, the only thing you wanted in you right now was food and even that was iffy since your appetite was draining by the second while you were with him.

"Really Jeff? As if I'll put that thing in my mouth- won't even reach past my gums." You sneered, looking away from him and towards the empty cabinets, a smirk came across your face.

Jeff rolled his eyes, annoyed but turned on even more now. He came closer to you, now standing in front of you. Towering over you even though he wasn't the tallest guy in the house but here, compared to you he was. He was currently taking up your side view, It made your breath hitched slightly, and the excitement rumbled in a ball in your chest, you felt it every time you breathe.

"You weren't saying that last time doll, you know that." Jeff's sleepiness rasp to his voice was actually sending tingles down your spine, just the excitement of getting into not actually an argument but a bickerment was enough to get over the hatred you had for this man, and get into the pure lust you had instead.

"Who got overwhelmed by my size? screaming about how big it was huh?" Jeff was still teasing you and seemingly his craved smile stretched even wider when he caught your cheeks starting to redden.

He only wants to continue this. wanting to see how red your cheeks would get.

"I saw how your little tummy bulged out when I was absolutely balls deep in you, Doll." Jeff couldn't help but smile more. Now his actual smile was now mocking his carved one.

You couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks causing them to mimick the color now. The redder they got the cockier Jeff got. His ego was inflating and he wouldn't stop until you were naked and squirming underneath him.

"Shut up Jeff. I swear." You murmured, barely able to get it out of your mouth. You swear that the heat from your cheeks was getting in the way of talking, Jeff picked up on this as well and it only pushed him to keep teasing you.

"Come on now can't defend yourself now? Come onnn call me stupid or something sweetface."

Before you could even get a word out he continued.

"See absolutely speechless because of me teasing you? Wow, would never thought that I would see the day that Y/N didn't have anything to say."

He looks proud of himself but a better word for it would be cocky, you thought. He kept going on about his small victory and soon his words snuffed the heat right out of your cheeks. You needed to shut him up somehow before his cockiness also snuffed out your lust. Thankfully, you had just the idea.

You pushed him into the wall, cutting him off in the midst of another boast. You looked up at him with a devilish smirk as you gently pulled up his white tank revealing his lean but toned body, and that happy trail as well. When the shock subsided he immediately got the hint, smirking down at you, while his eyes watched you carefully.

Your hand slid down his pajama pants feeling that same semi he had while you were insulting him. Now you could feel the effect that you always knew you had on him. You, almost at a painstaking pace started to rub his cock. as you started to kiss all over his chest. Sloppy wet kisses, leaving a trail of slight purple bruises as the blood rose to his snow-white skin.

He could only groan softly, keeping his voice hushed because y'all were next to the kitchen door: He couldn't let anyone see him like this, pinned up against the wall, shirt pushed up his chest and you teasing him. He couldn't be seen especially with you. His pride wouldn't possibly let the entire mansion or a single person know that he could stand for a second or even a quick fuck.

The kisses got meaner with time, now biting into his surprisingly soft skin which made it a lot harder for him to conceal his moans and groans.

"Fuck.. Doll." He whined which made you smile against his ribcage. The noise was delicious, and you didn't expect that you would get that from Jeff of all people.

A soft giggle left your lips and was muffled by the bruised flesh currently in your teeth. Your hand that rubbed his semi-to-a-full erection paused its movements as you got an idea that would be rather fun to execute and hopefully get another delicious whine from him.

Your lips left his ribcage and your teeth left their marks in the now red-purple love bruise. Your lips made a trail of now soft and sweet kisses up his chest. No one could tell that you hated this man with how soft you were being in this moment.

You paused when your mouth hovered over his right nipple. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he looked mostly confused why you stopped kissing him. He liked it despite how rough you were. Little did he know what you had in mind.

"Doll- what are yo-"

You cut him off but wrapped your pretty lips around his nipple and gently sucked on it like he had done to you during past hookups. You ever so slightly let your tongue graze again the hardening pebble.

Pitiful groans came from Jeff's mouth, he was shocked that he could muster up these sounds.

With a wet plop, you stopped sucking, leaving Jeff to scramble to catch his breath and thoughts. When he looked like he had a smidge of it back, you had your two front teeth and bottom teeth around the now reddish pink bud, the color similar to your blush from earlier.

A groan that ended off with a high pitch whine when you started to roll the bud in between your teeth, wriggling your tongue on the top part.

"Fuuuck Duh-Duh... Doll."

That free hand of yours had a similar mind as it went up to his lone nipple gently flicking it and pinching it.

Jeff was a blushing mess, happy that your view was only on his chest cause he would have hated to see your reaction to him like this.

You didn't stop until his right nipple was bright red and slightly puffy.

Jeff reached for your face which had some drool pouring out of your mouth and onto his chest. He absolutely didn't care, pulling you up to his height by your face so he could roughly make out with you. His scarred skin rubbed against yours, tounges smashed together and so did moans. Accidentally bumping teeth when either of you got a little too excited.

You struggled some with the height difference and the way you felt like you were just held up by your neck, so during the make-out, you climbed him like the bean pole he was. He easily helped you: his hands grabbing massive greedy heaps of your thighs, squeezing it hard to start making his own marks on your body.

Drool seeped out from the corners of y'alls mouths.

Finally, he pulled away so your lungs could take gulps of air. He moved to your neck where your pulse was beating the strongest and started biting and sucking: His hands moved to one of his personal favorite body parts of yours: your ass. His hands which looked to be made for piano left imprints.

Your moans filled the kitchen now and weren't the least bit quiet: fuelling him to carry you to the old island in the middle of the kitchen and plopped your bruised ass on the yellowed marble counter.

His greedy mouth traveled down your chest leaving wide 'O' shaped burst blood vessels. You felt your body warming up, you couldn't see all too well, blinded by lust. All that mattered was taking this man in every way y'all saw fit.

Jeff ripped open your shirt, sloppily sucking on your breasts in any way they could fit in his mouth. he didn't care what part he just wanted to suck on them and also for them to be marked since you did one hell of a job on his chest.

"Jefff fuuuck~"

"Now you're moaning my name toots." He said his voice muffled by your marked flesh still halfway in his mouth. "Good." He huffed, his mouth now going lower.

He left a couple marks on your tummy, didn't want to spend too much time there but didn't want to leave it bare. He couldn't wait. He wanted to taste you. To swirl his tongue around in your insides. quite hastily he pulled your underwear down to around your ankles and threw your legs over his shoulders: making you lay your warm naked back against the cold marble which made your nipples hard and that caught his attention.

He flicked his eyes back up to your breasts, taking in the sight before he reached out and grabbed them roughly leaving the same hand-shaped imprints.

His eyes looked wild as ever. the pupil constricted into a pin-point like a parrot who just learned how to say "fuck". Those wild eyes traced your body from your tits down to your pussy, pretty and glistening from all the excitement and fun y'all had earlier. He reached down, gently taking his index finger and rubbing the slit of your cunt. From how he grabbed you earlier you weren't expecting this. How he so delicately touched you as if you were a brittle piece of bone, threatening to snap

You greedily tried to move your hips, trying to push yourself against his hand so you could feel more. The red flush on your face now was out of frustration since he In perfect timing moved his hand so you just missed his fingers by a hair.

"Nuh uh uh toots. Not yet." He said through gritted teeth as if he was straining to hold even himself back from completely devouring you. "I wanna hear something?"

"What Jeff? Whaaat" You whined, now sitting up half-assed.

"Beg."

"I am not-"

"Shut up Doll: You did it before."

"Im not doing it this ti-"

You were cut off by a long moan erupting from your mouth one of Jeff's long fingers slid up inside you, bottoming out easily. the beginning of his palm right against your clit. You were knocked back on your back, legs naturally spreading open for this man which pulled him in closer due to your panties still being around your ankles.

"Please Jeff."

Jeff stood above you, jaw unclenched as now he worked his hand shoving his ring finger in to join his middle one.

"That's all you had to say bitch.. GOD, you're so hot like this." He groaned, pulling back as he lowered himself to be in direct line of sight of your pussy. He moved his hand so his palm wasn't covering your now swollen clit, His natural smile was now ear to ear before he leaned over and started to suck lightly on your clit which sent your hips into wild motions so wild in fact that he had to reach up with his free hand and firmly press it against your belly to keep you still enough while he tasted you.

He worked his fingers into you hard but slow, thrusting into you as if he was fucking you with his cock, his tongue flicking around your clit. he changed his thrusts to the scissoring motion when he noticed you tightening up on him, your pussy throbbing wildly, your moans pleads, and whimpers all in his ears.

He moaned along with you, seemingly getting off to see you getting off. Strangely, you twos emotions were always tied together.

Maybe it was from all practice he had but he genuinely felt you were close, it must've been muscle memory.

His fingers worked rough, sloppily thrusting into you with no real timing or pacing. His tongue and mouth got sloppier and so did his hold on you which meant you could buck all you wanted. You squeezed tighter on his fingers genuinely feeling a big knot in your stomach, only tightening more and more with how more messy Jeff has gotten.

His mouth trailed off, his tongue joining his fingers in your hole while his other hand's fingers rubbed your clit, flicking it back and forth between his index and middle finger.

The muscles in your legs twitched and generally shake as if that would help you hold in the need to come undone under jeff's talented hands and mouth.

The knot only swelled and so did the upcoming scream in your throat. In time, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling the guttural scream the best you can.

You came and came hard, juices gushing out of your hole and onto Jeff's fingers and waiting mouth. He looked up at you, your whole body flushed a rosy pink. Your mouth agape taking in greedy breaths, boobs bouncing slightly from your chest moving.

"Jesus toots almost drowned me." He grinned, at how annoyed you looked. He straightened up, his chin still dripping with your fluids, he stuck his fingers into your hanging mouth.

"Suck." He ordered, eyes lowering but the smile was still the same.

You closed your mouth around his fingers and gave it gentle sucks, savoring the taste of yourself much to the enjoyment of Jeff. his eyes sparkled when you kept sucking even when he tried to pull them out.

He pulled you by your hips closer to him, his pajama pants barely able to hang on. He barely pulled them down, just enough so that he could take out his cock.

"I know you been wanting this~"

"Shut up Jeff."

"What am I wrong toots?"

"Ye-" A loud moan interrupted you when he shoved himself into your needy cunt, gladly sucking in all of his length.

He joined your choir of moans as being in your tight pussy was enough for his knees almost to buckle. He was hunched over you, god he could swear to a priest that this pussy was the closest thing to heaven he has ever known. He gave only shallow thrusts which were enough for you both to shudder and whine. You from being overly sensitive and him from just edging himself.

"Fuck toots- god!"

He thrust into you hard one time and you both saw stars. Jeff was hunched over you like a lion eating its's meal, his hands found a way towards your hair and pulled it backward, making you stay in an arch position. He gave you more brutal thrusts, knocking every damn thought out of ya.

"Cant fucking think huh doll?" Jeff mocked you for the glazed-over look you had in your eyes. Your tongue hanging out like a puppy-dog.

"Fuck you." your tongue found it's way back into your mouth and hurled that at him.

"You're already doing that sweetheart~" He cooed looking down at your pretty face, which know had more of a glare on it then lust.

He kept the same deep pace with you, looking intently into your eyes.

"Fu-fuck you jeff! I hate you!"

Your pussy squeezed around him almost like it was milking him. His thrusts only grew rougher as his smile grew wider.

"hate me huh? Dont hate me enough not to fuck me~ God you're such a stupid little slut."

The way he was bottoming you out on repeat was making you stammer on your words. "Shut shut shut up-"

"Or else what bitch? Am I the only guy you fuck in the house or just the one that does it the best?'

His index and middle finger went to rub your clit. pressing harder down on it. You couldn't help but to buck your hips again. The knot in your belly finding the loose strings and tying itself up again.

"Jesus christ Jeffery- You're such a fucking asshole- Can't even- make me cum again." You said through gritted teeth, the way you had to suppress moans just to say that drove you insane. And deep down you knew that he was gonna make you cum again by how the knot was quickly tightening up.

"Oh? I can't, news to me bitch." He slow down but still trusted into you hard enough for you not to complain. His hand went off of your clit and onto your belly pressing down on it. He could feel his own cock going in and out.

His other hand loosens up on your hair, allowing you to move a little and you did, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking him right in his cocky face.

"fuck smiles-" You moaned and he laughed.

Your hand went and grabbed his hair pulling him to your lips. The smart way of shutting him up, can't brag if he's busy swirling tongues.

The kiss was hot and heavy and soon you both got sloppier. Jeff with his thrusts and tongue and you with your tongue.

your facades both fell apart and you two wildly fucked into each other. Not thinking about the rivalry, the other people living here, nothing at all but getting each other off.

The knot was unbearabley tight, your thighs twitching like mad around his waist, squeezing him a little tighter. Jeff pushed you flat on your back, now chest to chest with your tongues still locked together. Moans seeping out in between the little breaks in the kiss. You pulled away to fully let out a louder moan and you could feel jeff's hot breaths against your cheek. He smelled of you.

"Jeff... I'm gonna cum."

"Fuck me too."

Jeff got sloppier like how he did when he was fingering you. No rhythm or pacing to it, fucking into you rough. Whatever felt good to him he just did it. Rocking his hips into you at a brutal pace. He lifted himself off of your chest, his hands taking greedy handfuls of your thighs and squeezing hard, matching the brutal way he was fucking you. He was holding you as if you would run away but you did quite the opposite, fucking yourself back against him when he wasn't pulling you against his thrusts.

When you did have your eyes open, you caught glimpses of him staring at you with such an intensity it made your pussy throb. His jaw clenched, eyes crazy but scanning your whole body drinking the view in.

It felt like hours going on like this but a couple more thrusts made you cum, your body seized up, tightening your pussy around him before just gushing all over his pelvis, thoroughly soaking his pajama pants that were loosely hanging around his thighs. Seeing you being sent over the edge was what he needed to come undone, with one last thrust he filled you up to the brim, his legs shaking as he dumped every last drop into you.

He then slouched and laid on your chest, his face resting in the nook of your neck. You both lay there, breathing heavily but in sync. Somehow your hands found their way to his back, your finger drawing invisible circles on his shoulder blade.

When both of ya'lls breathing stopped resembling that of an asthmatic kid who just got done running the mile, Jeff picked his head up. A gentle smile against his carved one.

"i'll make us breakfast, toots."

[multiharlot]

on my knees // matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: matt keeps his promise to wait, beg, and crawl in order to fix your marriage.

inspired by the wall by yana but particularly the singular lyric "but you love me, so you crawl"

warnings: the rumors are correct folks, al's bringing back men who yearn

masterlist || series masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

moving back in felt strange for you. everything felt different, and you weren't sure they'd ever feel like they did before, but you were willing to let it all go. you were willing to forgive him and to rebuild. or at the very least, you were willing to try.

and so was matt.

you'd only been moved back in for a couple weeks, but every single one of those days matt was catering to your every want or need. he was seated for every conversation. his ears and his mind always wide open to receive anything you had to say. whatever it was, he did it.

you still kept yourself at a slight distance from him. there was part of yourself that wanted to throw all of it out the window and just push everything that happened out of your mind, but the biggest part of you couldn't bring yourself to forgive him yet. you'd put all of your trust in him and he'd broken every bit of it that you had.

you were sat in your office at work, sighing as you looked over the brain scans on your computer. you'd been trying to do your work but all you could think of was your relationship. you groaned before stepping out of your desk and deciding to take a walk around the hospital.

you'd accepted this job not too long before matt has left for los angeles. you were working in the hospital in the rehabilitation program for people with traumatic brain injuries, except right now it felt more like trying to fix your relationship was the job and work became your escape. you hated feeling this way.

"hey, what're you still doing here?"

your head pops up to see one of the nurses leaning her head into your office.

"oh...just going over some scans." you smiled, clearing your throat and nodding your head towards your computer.

"you work too hard" she smiles, shaking her head before walking off.

you just sigh before deciding to pack up your things and make your way home.

when you entered the door, you were welcomed by an empty apartment. assuming he was either out patrolling or with foggy and karen. after a nice relaxing shower, you were sat on the couch. your hair was still slightly wet and you were watching a movie, a cup of tea in your hands when you heard the front door open and matt kicking his shoes off.

"hi honey" you hummed out, the pet name rolling off of your tongue automatically, and so smoothly.

matt could've sworn that his heart stopped right then and there. you hadn't called him anything other than 'matt' or 'matthew' since everything had happened.

"hi" he breathed out, a smile on his face as he walked into the living room, placing his things down beside the end of the couch onto the floor.

"everything okay?" you asked, looking at your sober and exhausted looking husband.

"everything's perfect" he smiled as he slid onto the couch next to you.

"perfect huh?" you chuckled.

"guess what i got you?"

you furrowed your eyebrows as you started at him. he reached over the edge of the couch, pulling a small grocery bag up, a loud and, albeit, overly dramatic gasp left your mouth as you saw the name on the bag. it was from your favorite indian restaurant from your hometown. which happened to be quite a ways away from hells kitchen. you'd cried to him about all the things you were craving and couldn't get last night, and had matthew had the opportunity, he would've left right then and there to get it for you.

"is this where you were!?" you giggled loudly, quickly grabbing the cheese naan that was wrapped in foil from him.

"it is. and i have more" he smiled, grabbing two more bags, each of them filled with every craving you mentioned last night.

"matthew" you croaked out, tears starting to fill your eyes.

"i thought that we could have uh...girl dinner? is that what you called it?" he chuckled, sliding onto the floor to sit leveled with the coffee table before pulling out the contents of each bag.

you stared at all of the things matthew was placing on the table. matthew had been trying his best to get you whatever you craved and doing whatever it is that you needed or wanted from him. you sniffled and quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks, and he turned around, a slight frown on his face.

"hey, what's wrong?" he said softly, turning his body so he was knelt in front of you.

"i...thank you" you cried, shaking your head as you let out a slight laugh.

"i can't believe i'm crying" you chuckled at yourself.

"it's okay. i just wanted to get you everything you wanted. it's not a big deal" he quickly reassured, a gentle smile on his face as he placed his hands on your thighs, moving his thumbs to softly rub the tops of your thighs.

you were sure that had you not been pregnant, you wouldn't be this emotional. but there you were, sobbing on the couch.

"you didn't have to do all this." you sobbed, and matthew just gave you a tight smile, nodding his head.

"yes i did" he said curtly.

you hiccuped as you shook your head

"you don't have to cater to me just because we're going through a rough patch."

matt chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"i'm not catering to you because we're going through a rough patch. i'm catering to you because you're my pregnant wife and i love you." he sighed

you stared down at him, another hiccup coming through as you grossly wiped your snot on your sleeve.

"i don't want to earn your forgiveness and your trust back because i...buy you the food you want to eat or i buy you little gifts. i don't want to buy anything from you, sweetheart. i want you to give me your forgiveness and give me your trust because i earned it." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, staring up at you from his knees in front of you.

"matt..." you breathed out, extending your hand and placing it on his cheek.

he let out a breath of relief, closing his eyes and leaning his head against your hand, trying to soak in anything you were willing to give.

"whatever it takes baby. i got us here, and i'm gonna get us out of it." he said, his voice cracking slightly towards the end of his sentence.

you weren't sure what to say, so all you did was nod your head before sliding down onto the floor next to matt.

"did you get the tiramisu?"

"of course i did, what do i look like, an amateur?"

you giggled as you began to dig into the food on the coffee table in front of you and pressing play on the adam sandler movie you were watching.

however, the movie went unwatched that night as you and matt laughed in front of the table. both of you stuffing your faces with the most random foods laid out in front of you.

and just for the night, both of you didn't think about anything other than being there in that moment with each other.

*************

taglist: @luvr-bunnyy @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld @Mrbillymontgomery @inas-thing @fuck-goes-on @eddiemvnsonss @nia_um @multibishh @takeyour-pants-off @afootnoteinyourhappiness @slut4murdock @multibishh @alexxavicry @drunkangels @desert-fern @caseket @dvredevil-s-initivls @thychuvaluswife @scoliobean @babyblue0t7 @lewd-alien @yourbane

[ohtori-dropout]

This is a rewrite of this post, which I am keeping up as an archive and for posterity. However, said post is not required reading to understand this - honestly, I’d suggest reading this first to make sense of that post.

My current viewpoint on Adolescence of Utena greatly hinges on the interpretation of it as a narrative more controlled by Anthy than by Akio. It is in part a pseudo-sequel, in part a retelling, but most importantly it is not controlled by Akio to anywhere near the same degree as Revolutionary Girl Utena. His influence is there, as always, but it is Anthy holding everything together, as is made evident by the architecture of the movie and its consistent habit of making Akio out to be a buffoon. More on my opinions regarding this here.

On a meta level, Nanami’s inclusion in Adolescence is a joke. No, seriously. It’s a cameo and, as far as I am aware, not much else. However, I am a believer in death of the author, and in my mind palace her inclusion is far different in tone.

Nanami is, in many ways, a foil to Anthy. Her design alone makes this clear - yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, and Nanami has purple eyes and purple in her uniform to boot. Anthy very clearly sees herself in Nanami and does not seem to appreciate this fact. Nanami is the character who she frequently torments, despite others having committed far worse crimes (for the record, Nanami’s “prank” in episode 3 and her drowning a kitten are horrific. However, in the grand scheme of Utena, her crimes are nowhere near as bad or as system-reinforcing as others’.) Considering this, is it any wonder that Anthy’s view of her is less than favorable?

Additionally, and extremely importantly, Nanami has already tried to leave, even before Anthy. Nanami tried to transfer to a different academy, and even though the end of the show casts her as being complacent I doubt that it lasts long, especially given her lack of presence in Adolescence. Anthy leaves first, but in the context of Adolescence she eventually returns to Ohtori. Nanami leaves later than Anthy, but never returns. And this? The fact that someone Anthy sees a small, scared reflection of herself in just up and left and was never pulled back in by the strings of her past abuse? This scares Anthy, because Nanami Kiryuu is evidence that true escape is possible, and true escape being possible means that her entire world that she has built brick by brick around Dios, the shelter that she has made to cope with the abuse that she has gone through for what feels to her like time immemorial, isn’t necessary. The door is open. There is nothing forcing her to stay other than herself. She can go.

In Adolescence of Utena, Nanami - as represented by a cow wearing her uniform - suffocates to presumed death. This is Nanami as Anthy sees her - a sacrificial calf dressed in an imitation of a prince’s uniform - suffocating by the hands of “witches” (Anthy and Shiori) before she can truly leave. This is false (though perhaps the cow is named Nanami given Anthy’s proclivity to naming animals Nanami). This image, the image of a girl punished by an agonizing, embarrassing death for her attempt to defy her “fate”, is a coping mechanism. In this view Anthy has created for herself, Dios would pull her back by the throat if she tried to leave, and thus she has reason to continue the way she does. She is doing what she has to do to survive. She has a job to do.

Whatever it takes to sleep at night.

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 6

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, losing a relationship, minor swearing (?)

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

The door opens, letting in tendrils of night air.

It’s not loud or particularly abrupt, but it still makes Remus jolt up from his spot on the couch, clawing his hair back as anticipation mixed with desperation pool at the pit of his stomach. He stands, trying to peer around the corner as guilt begins twinging in his mind.

Amberly has come into the kitchen. She’s carrying a paper bag filled with various foil-covered dishes, which she begins unpacking onto the table. She closes the door, waving to someone on the other side- James? Lily? The question is settled a minute later as Remus catches sight of James’ battered red minivan pulling out the driveway.

He can’t see Amberly’s face.

Her movements are exactly the same as usual- calm, unhurried, entirely peaceful.

He swallows hard. He’s not sure what he expected at all, to be honest- maybe tears, since she’s never been able to cope very well with them fighting. Maybe an angry text, a long string of sentences cobbling together the hurt he knew she had to be feeling (another message for you to ignore or send back one word, whispers his mind).

But there’s nothing, and somehow that’s scarier than all of them put together.

He steps out of the living room.

“Oh! Hey, Moony,” says Amberly, looking up. “Did you take your meds last night?”

Normal, utterly normal, but why can he sense that something, he doesn’t know what, is missing painfully from her voice, words, manner, everything?

“Um. Yeah,” he replies, looking at the floor. Truth be told, he can’t even remember if he did or not- he fell asleep at eleven with his phone next to his cheek, praying desperately that he’d wake up with that little Amberly <3 notification on the lock screen.

He hadn’t gotten a single one.

She nods calmly, brushing past him (not stopping to grab a kiss like she always does) to grab a dish from the cupboard. “Would you like some pasta? Lily made us this giant lasagna. I can cut you a slice.”

Remus stands frozen in place. “Sure. Yeah. That would be great.” His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, and he peers at Amberly beneath his eyelids as he tries to decipher what exactly the hell is going on.

He can’t tell a single thing. He who used to be able to read the Ravenclaw like a page in so many of his books is at sea, adrift in waves of guilt and fear as he tries to pick up on something, anything, that would tell him if she was mad or upset or-

Amberly places a warm plate of lasagna in his hand, passing him a fork. “Enjoy.”

“Don’t you want any?” he asks, turning pathetically to catch her as she exits the kitchen. That lump is swelling up in his throat again- where are you going, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, I’ll be so lost without you-

She looks back, brown eyes wide and polite. “No, thanks though. I’m not all that hungry.”

Amberly vanishes into the hallway and Remus is left standing in the kitchen staring at his pasta as it congeals into a lukewarm, cheesy lump on his plate.

[coopigeoncoo]

The Space Between Stars

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff

Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!

---

You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.

What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.

---

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Today has been an awful day.

Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.

Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound.  As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.  

You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.  

The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.

Again.

And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.  

So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment.  You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers.  Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.  

It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.  

But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening.  He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.  

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.

"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be?  It's not like my day could get any worse !"

"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor.  "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"

"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own!  That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"

"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.  

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic.  "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone.  My Grandma is in there."

"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.

"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve.  "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."

"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."

"Whatever," you huff dismissively.  "It doesn't really matter.  Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."

"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.  

"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones.  "I'm just going to duck into a store or something.  I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then.  It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."

And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.

The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market.  The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.  

You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays.  It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV. 

The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.

"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place.  "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."

In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.  

It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.  

You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.   

It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables.  Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.  

The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city.  The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.

All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet.  The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.

And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette.  With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke.  Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.  

"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over.  "You'll let all the warm air out."

"Uh- yeah.  Of course.  Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm.  Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.  

"Welcome home.  Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."

"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now.  And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."

"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts.  "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."

"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"

"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Oh."

"This is- so awkward.  I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration.  "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."

"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.

"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly.  "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay!  It doesn't make me okay!"

"You could have done worse."

"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."

A realization struck you abruptly.  "Tell me a lie," you demanded.

"What?"

You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase. 

"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see.  He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp. 

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here.  You already know that I can't."

"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."

"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat.  "The scarf is red.  It's obviously blue."

Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.

"And this?"

"Green.  It's purple."

Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky. 

"This banana?"

"Teal.  Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"

"It is, isn't it?  I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh. 

"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel.  "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"

"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top.  "I want to go ahead and slice this.  You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"

"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place.  "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"

"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."

Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken.  "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"

"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade.  "Is for you to try this bread that I made."

"And then you'll leave?"

"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made.  "Do you hear that?  That's one crispy crust!  This loaf is gonna be goooood."

"How did you even make bread, anyway?  I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."

"You don't really have much of anything.  Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was  charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy.  "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals.  Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go!  There's a bit more to it than that."

"Well, it smells wonderful.  This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."

"No kidding!  You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"

"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living.  "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."

"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.  

"Oh- I only have a couple.  They're probably on the drying rack."

He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer.  You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest.  He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.

Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.  

"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices.  He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim. 

"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling.  Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose.  Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.

"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"

"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.  

"Don't be shy now.  Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh.  The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer.  But the bread was a different story entirely.

"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.  

"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours.  "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.

"Whoopsy-daisy!  I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.  

"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"

"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop.  "Her name's Himiko."

"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."

"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine.   But she's mine, you know?  In all the ways that should matter."

"So you love her then?"

"Of course I do.  She's a great kid."

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry.  The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.

It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone.  You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons.  The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.  

You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code.  But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs. 

While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes.  The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.  

And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.  

"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon.  "I understand if you don't want me to know.  The less I probably know about you the better, huh?  I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.  Forget I said anything-"

"Twice.  You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more.  "I want you to call me Jin."

Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.

"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice?  Like, JinJin?"

"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply.  He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat.  "Just Jin is fine."

"Alright.  Thank you for the meal, Jin.  This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.

"A burglar, huh?  Sounds like a real heel."

"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once.  "But I don't think he's all that bad."

Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating.  You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes. 

"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot.  "I can clean up after myself. "

"Nope, sorry.  It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules.  "If you cook, you don't clean up."

"Is there anything else I could do?  Help you out a little more?"

"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area. 

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.  

The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.  

It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment.  If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.  

"Are you going to be okay?  Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.  

"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply.  "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."

"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists.  "But I can help you, if you need it.  I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night.  Keep you out of the storm."

"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation.  "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay?  Things are…difficult right now.  But it won't last forever."

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on. 

"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.  

"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw.  “My life has always been- well, bad.  Mostly.  I used to really hate that.  Thought it wasn't fair.  But now I don't mind so much."

"Why not?"

"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"

You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.

"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.

"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner.  There's always room for a treat or two!"

The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long.  But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.  

"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen.  "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes!  Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"

"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote.  "Is the controller over by you?  I want to change the channel."

"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"

"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground.  "I don't trust people who always smile.  It feels like they're trying to hide something."

"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality.  So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving.  You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.  

"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints.  "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."

"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much.  "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself.  I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing.  Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place. 

"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress.  "I can't trust myself anymore!"

"You can’t?"

"No.  I- I broke that trust.  I broke myself."

Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment.  "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble.  "But I trust you."

"You don't know me.  I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.

"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know.  And I happen to think he's pretty alright."

"Even for a bad guy?"

"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity.  But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.  

"I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."

"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.  

"It's never too late to change."

"It is for me."

You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers.  Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.  

"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be.  That this is who you have to be."

"Who I need to be.  Who they need me to be."

"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand.  "One last favor and we'll call it even?"

"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.

"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want.  Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.  

"This like a promise ring or something?"

"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."

He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand.  Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again.  You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.  

Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face.  The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.  

"I promise."

The night, as all things, could not last forever.  But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.  

"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit.  "I have to go."

"Oh ,"  you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest.  “Will you come back?"

"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable.  "I want to."

Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin. 

"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms.  “Take this.”  

"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms. 

"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder.  It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."

"Then why do you-?"

"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside.  "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."

"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change.  "I'm not gonna steal from you."

"Of course you're not.  First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest.  "And second, this isn't for you."

"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.

"Nope.  This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground.  "Buy her something nice, okay?  And treat yourself while you’re at it."

"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko.  Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time.  It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time.  Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.  

With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.

"What is it?  What's wrong?"

"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway.  "You can just use the door."

"Right!  The door!  Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free.  "Forgot that you had one of those."

"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway.  "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.

"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door.  "See you later!"

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."

[cleolinda]

I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

[estialon]

Echos of the Twin Moon 🌖 🌑

A very short fic to how my tarnished (Xeric) ended up in Messmer’s grasp. This is ⚠️ canon x oc content, please read at your own discretion!

Pairing; Messmer x Male!Tarnished (Xeric)

TW; Soft manipulation? Mild obsession? Looking for someone else in another person. Idk someone help me. *cries*

HC; M and R do like each other to certain extent but never act upon it.

—

It was the twin-moon knight that first captured his interest. The raven hair and her silver garb, the ever calm presence except for the fire ablaze from her sword, a blessing of his to her.

But as it all stands, he knew she was the moon he could not grasp—not that she was too far, but the pull could bring devastation, foiling his purpose.

To wage war, he had no time for love albeit craving one, a love else from his mother. Though, even after everything seems to simmer down, his tongue is tied from speaking of such blasphemy to her. It all seems too late, especially now that the right time has been gone for far too long, that she must have believed that he didn’t want the same as her.

Yet he let her remain, and she too chose to remain as his blade.

—

When he saw the tarnished, a lowly intruder stepping in, adorning her armour, it brought not only void to his chest but also rage to his blood.

First strike, second strike. With all his might he unleash his flames, burning away at the intruder. The tarnished, while able to evade his wrath, still caught the remnant of his strength and slowly but surely dwindle in front of him. When an opening came, he pounced at the graceless mongrel. With the blunt of his spear the crescent-adorned helmet soon crashed onto the floor. His gaze, through the serpents, went to the fallen ready to burn the wrath he had into their mind.

But to curse himself, as the helmet had rolled away, he didn’t expect a sight of someone with her raven hair. He thought he was out of his mind, lost in his madness after being separated from her for far too long, yet he couldn’t strike down the last blow at the owner of those eyes. Violet sapphire, glistening to his flame like a shade of glint stones in the night sky.

He knew the tarnished had also wield her blade and adopted her sorceries; this lowly creature had dare used it against him. He knew that her fate had ended at this fool’s hands, yet he couldn’t bear the thought of slaying such resemblance and such a parallel of prowess.

Like a twisted way of his yearning coming true. An embodiment of something he didn’t know he could even dare to wish for ever again. He was repulsed at himself for thinking of such a thing, the blood in his mouth taste like bile at the thought. But as the seconds passed and the realization crept up his mind, he only find the idea ever more tempt.

A replacement.

A forgery.

This tarnished is naught but a mimic to her greatness.

But he, smelled like her.

“Tarnished���won’t thou put down thy blade?”

He expected fierce rebellion protests through those twin blade, another flurry of cuts from the echos of the twin moon. The tarnished had came here to fought him, whatever the reason maybe he is not here to be courted or befriend. Yet all he see was the hand which clenched tightly around the handle slowly lets go. He could have sworn he heard the little sigh from that smaller frame.

An opportunity.

“What…is thy name?”

“Xeric”

—

Thanks for reading! I’m not used to writing fics so this is a new for me. Please forgive me for any grammar mistakes. I might write more in the future, who knows? Messmer might be OOC but I think I got him pretty alright. Anyhow, have a great day!

[morrow-teller]

KINKMAS: Day 2 | Throat Fucking

Rick Grimes x Male reader

Contains: MALE READER, NSFW themes, Established relationship, Under the mistletoe, Horny!Rick, Throat fucking/Throat pie

──────. • ☆:*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ• . ──────

The ladders were a huge help, finally you could simply hook the blossomed Mistletoe above your bedroom door, the ribboned band allowing the decor to hang, swaying slightly.

You hadn’t mentioned the party to Rick he had enough on his plate. But with the house now covered in nothing but tinsel, baubles, mini tree’s that twinkled in the dark it wasn’t exactly as secretive as you hoped.

Rick watched you climb down the rusty chipped ladders, feet planting into the wooden floor-boards, they clicked once you settled back into Rick’s front, admiring your work.

“What’s that for?”

His voice husky, sleep filled, slightly groggy from his restless night. Immediately Rick fell limp against you, tiredness loosely swirling around his head, eyes heavy as he smiled, chuckling.

“For you…and me”

Rick’s brows raised, his hands securing themselves on your hips, caging you in against him, he liked this, holding you close, like nothing could get you under his gaze.

He breathed against the shell of your ear, his lips trailing against your jaw. Shivering, you turn before shying away.

“Under the mistletoe mister…”

Following behind, Rick manages to keep you against him, his lips attacking your neck, planting kiss after kiss. The mistletoe kept Rick’s intentions rather innocent, although rough, his kisses were chaste, almost soft and gentle.

“I miss this, being this close, your always so busy…”

Bringing a hand upward towards his head, you snake it through his slicked back locks, tugging his head closer to your neck, he hums deeply before deepening his kisses, teeth grazing the abused, reddened skin.

“I’m sorry…you have me now-“

Turning your head slightly your able to push Rick’s head upwards, his lips now pressing onto your own. His tongue forces it’s way into your open mouth, it’s wet and warm, practically welcoming you with open arms.

Smacking followed the sloppy kisses you shared. Of course that wasn’t what you craved, the mistletoe was long forgotten, the innocence surrounding your plan quickly foiled turning inappropriate.

By slowly sinking to your knee’s, the kiss is broken leaving a tamed Rick stood, mouth agape, lips a deep shade of red, a shade which suggested previous actions.

Glancing up with doe eyes, you catch the glare of Rick, his sky-blue eyes targeting your own, glossing over your features once more. Rick couldn’t escape his thoughts, the one’s which began to plague his mind.

A warm hand secures your left cheek, his thumb soothing over your bottom lip, peeling the muscle back until he could push forwards, the tip sinking inside.

“Been thinkin’ about these lips”

He presses the weight of his thumb on your tongue before smoothing over it and pulling back out, rubbing his newly wet digit over your slick lips.

squirming in place, you lose patience with each touch Rick had to offer, his hands now slipping into your hair, gently pulling each strand out of place, messing it up slightly.

“You have?” You remark back with a slickness Rick found admirable. His cock ached for your touch, for your mouth, with his patience growing thin he had to hurry your fondness.

“Uh huh, thought about how good the last time felt, miss the feelin’ “

His smile grew once you began to make quick work of his gun holster, unclasping the belt buckle, watching it fall to the floor with a loud thump.

“And here I was…thinking it wasn’t good enough” you coo his way, fingers slowly lowering his denim trousers, watching the material uncover the lightly hairy skin of his legs.

Brows furrowing, his hand removes itself from your hair, once again sneaking underneath your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Your more then good enough darlin’ “

His boxer clad bulge had your focus elsewhere but you took time to melt at his words, furious with how Rick could easily make you feel appreciated.

The nickname welcomed you, finger tips tampering with the band of his underwear. You beamed with want once you dispersed the obstacle keeping you from him, an audible slap sounding out into the open passage way.

It’s tall and proud, you almost forget just how big he is, a thick vein ran up along to the tip, splitting half way into a folk like shape, the tip a pale pink with a light layer of tan skin covering the bottom half.

“t’s all yours…”

Swallowing thickly, you reach out, wrapping a hand around the base weakly, jerking his cock forwards until the extra skin bunched around his head loops over, completely covering the slick tip.

His hand returns to your hair, sinking further into your locks until his fingers are secured, immediately he pushes his hips forwards, pressing the protected tip onto your lips, budging them apart.

Rick stays quiet, his smile still present but even more so apparent looking down at you. The push of his hips motivates your lips to part, his tip slowly sinking inside of your mouth, resting against your tongue.

“Gonna take it?”

You nod, his hand rough, Grasping at your locks Rick forced your head further into his crotch, nose now buried deep in his balls. Several moans escaped his open mouth as your tongue drew a long strip of saliva up towards the tip.

Sinking back down, you set a tortuous rhythm that has Rick squirming in place, his thighs slightly shaky whilst meeting your throat half way, his tip jabbing the back of your throat causing a convulsion.

You gagged, Rick drew a deep breath, continuous moans drawing from his fluctuating chest, lewd sounds slipped from you naturally as you swallowed around him, his hand caging you in.

Pulling upwards out of his grip, you began to kitten lick at his slit, pre-come oozing out onto your tongue giving you a mouthful of his essence.

Humming you stopped your teasing, Rick’s deep grunts following suit with his bossy hand which tangles within your hair, ordering you to wrap your lips back around the sensitive head.

Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your head up and down slowly, focusing on how his throat bobbed, how he sank back into the wall which supported him, he looked lost, lost in pleasure.

Taking him completely from your mouth, you release him with a pop which completely changed his focus back onto you, the smile he had once before replaced an open mouth.

You know full well that looking at him while you suck him off drives him crazy, but you save that privilege for right now and temporarily fix your eyes on his cock, sliding it into your mouth again and again, a line of saliva leaks from the corners of your mouth, slicking up his cock.

Each thrust brings tears to your eyes and when he slides so deep into your mouth that your nose hits his pubic bone, you gag, louder. You can’t breath and Rick takes note of that by keeping you still.

The sight alone causes him to cum with a groan, multiple profanities filling your ears. Each splatter managed to coat your tongue, the thick liquid easily swallowed alongside his cock.

He stumbled, falling against the wall behind, allowing you to pull back. You cough, heaving for air. Rick’s cock fell limp, coated in copious amounts of bodily fluids, a mess.

Rick forces you into a kiss, latching his lips onto your own as you settle into his lap. Humming he pulls away with that damn smirk.

“I taste good on you…”

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: apple jacks Group: C Prompts: Size matters. She doesn’t “like” you! Sunset.

-

Paint It Black

Gold hadn’t offered her dinner.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it. But considering the amount of time she was already going to be spending with him, he thought it best to limit their contact where he could. Assuming she’d have even taken him up on the offer. Which she wouldn’t have, obviously.

Besides, he was having a hard time finding his appetite as it was.

He had decided on a nice herbal tea with a finger or two of his good scotch when he heard the doorbell ring. Opening the door revealed none other than Belle French.

The setting sun was at her back, the soft dying light giving her a soft glow as it washed against his porch. The natural red highlights of her hair were just on the side of golden, and with her sensible blouse and cardigan, she resembled something not unlike how he imagined guardian angels.

“We agreed on nine o’clock,” he said by way of greeting.

“Have you had dinner?”

So prepared he was for I’ve changed my mind, the deal is off that it took him an extra second to parse her question.

“I was just about to throw something together,” he lied.

“Good. I haven’t eaten yet, either.” Belle took a step towards him, and he stepped back automatically. Before Gold could say anything, she’d breezed past him, as if forcing herself into his home was something she did every day.

He looked around his foyer, looking for any instructions on how to proceed. Not for the first time, he wondered if asking Belle for help with this particular problem had been the smartest thing to do.

“I made spaghetti.” She’d found her way to the kitchen, unloading one of her bags on his counter. The other one was on the floor by the door, and he assumed it held her overnight things. “I also brought muffins for breakfast. They’re from the supermarket, so don’t get too excited. Where are your plates?”

The spaghetti was in a plastic container, open now and ready to be portioned out and reheated. Next to the lid was a foil bag that Gold recognized as the garlic bread from the grocery’s inhouse bakery. And there was Belle French, standing in his kitchen with an open and expectant look on her face, like she’d been invited. Like she wanted to be there with him, and hadn’t been coerced into it with the promise of a much needed reprieve for her father’s flower shop.

She didn’t like him. He’d do well to remember that.

“Miss French—”

“Belle. I insist,” she said when he opened his mouth to refuse. “We’re going to be sleeping together. We should be on a first name basis.”

“We are not—”

“We literally are,” she said, interrupting him again.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling every minute of the last week. How on Earth was he going to survive the night with her, let alone the next ten nights he’d dealt for?

“We agreed on nine o’clock.”

The woman seemed to finally take pity on him. “I just want to talk.” She opened the bag containing the garlic bread. 

“I’m pretty sure I made my expectations clear.”

“And what about my expectations?” Belle had given up on being directed to the proper cupboard, so she started opening the doors over the counter until she found his dishes.

“I’ve given my word you’ll remain unmolested. You have collateral should I—”

“I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place if I believed there was a chance of that.”

“Then what more could you want?”

“I want to know why. Why me, why now?” Proving victorious, Belle pulled out two plates from his cupboards. 

“You need the money,” he deflected, opening the drawer of the silverware and setting the kitchen table for two places; he wasn’t a complete beast to make her do all the work.

“So does Ruby. So do most people in town, actually,” she said as if he didn’t know.

He watched as she put the first plate into his microwave, and soon the electric hum was the only sound in the room. After the timer dinged, Belle placed the first plate on the table, complete with a side salad and the garlic bread. She gestured for him to sit while she reheated her own serving.

“I know you can be discreet,” he said finally.

For the first time since entering the kitchen, Belle looked at him. She considered his answer. “I do understand that you have an image to uphold. Word getting out that you suffer from nightmares would certainly do...something to it.”

Nightmare. 

It was too kind a word for the violent, paralyzing terror that dogged his sleep. It wasn’t a nightmare that pulled him from his bed, still sleeping, compelling him to pound on his walls until his hands bruised. It wasn’t a nightmare that had him pacing madly up and down his halls, wrenching his ankle again and again, the pain deeper than bone when he finally awoke.

“The townsfolk already compare you to Scrooge,” Belle said as she sat across from him with her plate. “Knowing about this might be a bit too much.”

 “Scrooge didn’t ask for help fending off his ghosts,” Gold muttered.

“Scrooge didn’t know his ghosts were coming.” She looked pensive. “What ghosts are haunting you, Mr. Gold?”

The scrape of his chair against the tile was loud. He pushed away from the table and his half-eaten dinner.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish up in my study. Feel free to show yourself around. Thank you for dinner.”

“Wait—I didn’t—”

But Gold was already gone, out of the kitchen and down the hall. Away from her. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was hiding in his study when he heard the soft knock.

“Come in,” he said, looking up only as the door opened.

“I’m sorry,” Belle said without preamble. She hadn’t come further into the room, but she wasn’t hiding behind the door frame. “I overstepped, and I shouldn’t have. I just don’t understand why I’m here.”

For the first time that night, perhaps the first time in their whole acquaintance, Belle looked unsure of herself.

“I want to help you, Mr. Gold.”

“Elias.” He owed her that much. Belle was right: if they were going to sleep together, she should have his name.

“Elias,” she said, saying his name slowly. “I’ve already agreed to the terms you’ve laid out. I showed up, didn’t I?”

Gold sighed. He just wanted this month over and done with. The truth was the enormity of his fear was becoming too much for him. Size mattered, and it was too much. Too big. Going without sleep for the few weeks he was affected was out of the question, and sleeping pills didn’t work, only bringing the terrors back in full force once he stopped taking them.

“I can’t be alone,” he said. “We need to share the bed.” He’d learned that from experience.

“So you mentioned. That’s fine.”

“I can sleep over the sheets, if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“But that would make you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? That’s kind of exactly the opposite of why I’m here.”

“I can get you separate blankets then—"

“I’ve just told you I agree to the terms.”

“It feels a lot to ask of you.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s not more than I’m willing to do.”

Gold sighed again. It was nearing the usual time he turned in.

“So.” Belle said, before he could get his courage up to suggest they retire. She took a brave step into his study.

“So?”

“We’ve established why me. So, why now?”

Gold made a noise in his throat. “This is an ailment I face every September.”

Belle tilted her head to the side. “Like an anniversary?”

“Aye. That of my son’s death.”

-