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#i drew it the moment i got home it was all i could think about
fivepebble · 2 years
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i went to my friend’s family’s house for thanksgiving and this was standing on their porch
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qcomicsy · 8 months
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I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.
It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.
He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.
He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself → He makes a plan → And then he reacts.
Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.
And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.
Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.
See Nightwing Annual (2021)
But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.
Was to seethe.
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Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).
But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.
This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.
Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.
(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)
His reaction wasn't immediate.
His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.
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But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this
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From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.
But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.
Does that mean he planned that to happen?
That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.
You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.
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Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"
When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.
(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)
Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.
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rs-hawk · 4 months
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I'd love to see more yeti or Bigfoot dragging their mate off to their cave in the woods
They're just slightly smart enough to communicate with gestures but not enough to understand why you'd want to leave
Y’all fr making me lose my mind with this asks. Love it
You decided to go hiking with a group of coworkers. It’s supposed to be a team building experience, but you don’t care about that. You’re just glad that you’ll get paid to be outside. It’s better than being trapped inside all day, listening to people you don’t care about complain about things you also don’t care about.
You started to get a bit ahead, nor caring about the gossip and taunting that your other coworkers are exchanging. Your one work friend pulled out last minute, making you wish you’d stayed home today. That feeling wouldn’t last for too long though.
As you followed the path, you lost sight of the group behind you when you looked back. While you felt relieved by that, you also wondered if that would mean you wouldn’t get paid since technically you weren’t apart of any of the “team building” and “morale strengthening” going on behind you. You pushed that thought from your mind and decided to keep going on. They were lucky you came at all. Surely no one would be so petty as to not pay you because you got excited and got a little ahead.
When you heard a branch breaking just off the path, you didn’t think too much of it. Someone probably just was catching up to you. However, when you heard thumping on the trees, a shiver went down your spine. You remembered your Dad telling you about Big Foot and how he always made himself known by banging on trees, and that horrid smell. Luckily you didn’t smell anything, so you pressed forward.
Again, you heard the branch breaking. This time you froze, looking towards the sound of the breaking branch. Just as soon as you saw the flash of brown fur, you were scooped up by it. A scream ripped from your throat as you were carried away from the trail faster than you could comprehend.
You were taken to a cave, where the creature set you on a bed of moss and leaves. It was soft at least. The creature that loomed over you was a stereotypical Big Foot, making your heart leap into your throat. He gestured for you to lay down, but you shook your head.
He frowned, gesturing again. You shook your head. “What? No. I need to leave.”
You pointed to the opening of the cave, but this time, the creature shook his head. He lightly pushed you onto your back, burying his furry face into the crock of your neck. The feeling of his tongue, lips and teeth on your neck drew out an involuntary moan from your lips. He took that as a sign of invitation, moving his large, furry hands down your body.
You jerked away, moving slightly closer to the mouth of the cave. He drew you back to him, now pinning you under him. His huge cock was already leaking precum, which he smeared against your jeans as he grinded against you. You couldn’t believe how soaking wet this thing was making you.
He tried to pull off your jeans, but was clearly confused and agitated. After a moment, you decided that this wasn’t real. It was just a dream, right? Big Foot isn’t real. What could it hurt to have a little fun?
You slipped off your jeans, and he groaned, back to grinding his leaking cock against you. The tip of his cock pushed your panties into you, obviously not understanding the barrier at first. Just as you’re about to pull them off, instead, he ripped them off. Within a second, he slammed his giant cock inside of you. That mix of pain and pleasure made you realize that this wasn’t a dream. It was real. But you were too cock drunk to care at this point.
The furry creature abused your poor dripping cunt merciless. He bit and nipped at your neck, leaving deep bruises all over your neck and throat. His fat cock stretched you out with every thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. You knew that if he was to cum in you that there was no way that you wouldn’t get pregnant. It was basically in your womb with every thrust. Again though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.
Big Foot groaned and grunted, sounding animalistic and feral as he used your poor human cunt. He flipped you over, shoving your face into the moss so he could reach deeper into you. This drew tears from you as you gripped the moss. Tears ran down your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your cunt was wrapped around him, drawing him in deeper. You wanted to beg for him to keep going just like that because you were so close, but you couldn’t get any words out. Instead you just moaned and whined, pushing back against him.
Finally, as you felt him pulsing inside of him, so close to cumming, you clenched down around him. Your orgasm finally flowed, making you choke out a sob into the moss. Your mind was fuzzy. Your cunt was throbbing excitedly. He moaned loudly at the feeling of you clenched around him, and that was all it took for him to release inside of you.
His cum filled you up, extending your stomach, rounding it out. It gave you a precursor to what your stomach would soon look like, round with his child.
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hgfictionwriter · 17 days
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Long Distance Call
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?
Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!
A/N: Based on this request.
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“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”
Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.
Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.
“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.
It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.
She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.
Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.
But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.
“What was that all about?”
Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.
“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.
“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”
“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.
“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”
“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”
“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.
“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.
“I know.”
Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.
She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.
“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”
She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.
“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”
Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.
By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.
She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.
“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.
She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.
“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.
She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.
She took a few deep breaths before she answered.
“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.
“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”
“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”
“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.
“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.
“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.
“Mission accomplished.”
“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”
“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”
You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”
Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.
“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”
“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.
“Maybe.”
“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.
“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”
“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.
“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”
“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”
“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”
“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.
Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.
She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.
“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”
“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”
“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.
“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”
“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.
Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.
“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”
You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”
Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”
“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”
“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”
“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.
People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”
You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.
“So make me,” you challenged her.
Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.
“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.
“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”
“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.
“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”
“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”
“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.
A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.
You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.
“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”
Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.
“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”
You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”
“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”
“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.
“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”
Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.
“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”
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gurugirl · 9 months
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Not Fair | bfd!harry
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best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship au
Summary: Harry's been thinking about something that might make your relationship fair but you don’t like what he suggests and it blows up in his face.
Word Count: 6.5k
A/n: You guys asked for this and so here you are. At the beginning of this check-in you'll be getting a glimpse into Harry's married life and his internal thoughts about Y/n and his wife and then it ends with angst.
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, cheating, age gap
bfd!harry masterlist
Harry rolled over onto his back, looking up at the dark ceiling in his bedroom. The only light coming in was from the window. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath.
He felt the bed move as his wife got up to go and clean herself up in their bathroom. He could hear her saying something but he wasn’t listening. His thoughts were on you and what you were doing at that moment at work. His mind wandered to what he’d feel or how he’d react if he knew you had just fucked someone else the way he just did his wife. He wouldn’t like that. And he was sure you wouldn’t like that he’d just nutted in his wife. Even if he told you he was thinking of you as he did it. Imagining that he was stuffed inside of you and you were the one sighing and gasping under him. Because that’s how it was lately. It wasn’t his wife that he was with even if she was the one under him.
The guilt he felt became more self-centered. He was less worried about his wife than he was about how he was going to continue with his little façade. He still loved her. They’d been through a lot together over the years. She gave him a daughter. They’d lost family and friends together. Doctor’s visits with scary diagnoses. Fights. Vacations. Two houses. A car accident. Lots of lows and highs. But all he could think about was you.
It didn’t bother him that he wasn’t thinking of his wife when he was fucking her these days. The lights stayed off like they usually had before you, and he would pretend he was sinking into you and that you were the one pulling at his hair and moaning his name. It was easy. His wife has no idea. The frequency of sex with his wife was about once every other week or so. He could keep up with that. He’d prefer to be with you in your little apartment and finding his orgasm inside of you rather than with his wife but that was not always possible.
“Did you hear me, babe?” She called to him from the bathroom.
Harry jumped from the bed and walked naked into the bathroom with his wife so he could clean up his own mess, “What was that?”
Laughing as she flushed the toilet, “I was just saying you were so turned on tonight. Did you watch porn or something before?”
She was mostly teasing but Harry knew why she noticed the way he was acting a bit different. And it wasn’t porn. It was that he got a notification that an item he bought for you had arrived. And you were working so you wouldn’t know what was waiting in the mail room until you got home after your shift.
A sex toy. Something he could control remotely. Just the thought of you using it on yourself had him hard in his sweatpants as he climbed into bed with his wife and initiated sex.
He knew it was wrong. To sleep with one woman and think of another. But as the months drew on with his little secret it became easier and easier to imagine he was with you.
But sometimes he’d get distracted by his wife. She’d screech or make a noise that you wouldn’t. Her scent was totally different too. Neither scent was better than the other, just different.
You got him so worked up and so edged that he always had to fight from coming too fast. You made him leak with precome before he even took that first thrust into your pussy. With his wife, there was hardly any build-up or foreplay so it was usually just a little oral sex and a quickie fuck. Which had all been good until you came around.
Now he was obsessed with his dynamic with you. It was better than any he’d had with any woman. And it wasn’t that you were better in bed or anything. It was that the connection you had was better. You were far more stimulating, teasing, fun.
“Nah… you just looked cute tonight,” he grinned as he washed his hands. That wasn’t a lie. His wife was cute. She was a very attractive woman. In fact, he surprised himself by pursuing anything with you at all because his wife was sort of the whole package. Great body, smart, kind, patient, and a good mother. They’d definitely lost their spark sexually, though he seemed to be the only one to notice it. That was really the only issue. They still had sex but it wasn’t fun anymore. It was simply a means to an end.
And the first day that he went to your apartment he knew in the back of his mind what he was doing was wrong. He wasn’t sure he’d have gotten you into bed but he definitely had imagined it. And when the opportunity suddenly opened up he took it. He couldn’t stop himself. Typical man really, he felt. He always championed himself as a great guy with integrity and a good moral compass. But that all flew out the window the moment he was with you on your couch in your living room and he dared to begin asking personal questions. The way you were squirming and your skin got hot and your words were breathy… he knew all he had to do was to lead you to your room and you’d be putty in his hands. He was right.
At first, he had regrets. He wasn’t going to stop but he did have some guilt. But after the second time you were together he knew he was fucked when he realized you still wanted more. You loved sex with him. You wound up begging or giving in to him after he was already so hard it ached. The way you teased and flirted with him before he finally laid you out and licked your pussy was quite intoxicating. And you were eager to suck him off too. God, it fed his ego to have you drooling over his cock like you did. It’d been years since he’d had that.
But lying in bed trying to get to sleep once his wife was tucked in and softly snoring to his left he did feel a pinch of something that gave him anxiety. It was the fact that you weren’t seeing anyone but him (which he preferred). It meant you got the short end of the stick in the relationship. You were seeing a married man. What did that mean for your future? Was Harry fucking everything up for you? Was he taking you away from having a normal dating life and maybe finding true love with a man you could actually be with openly?
Well, he thought that yes, he was definitely getting in your way. He was too old for you on top of it all. And there would be a divide between you and Fae if she were to ever learn of the affair. Potentially? Harry could ruin some really great things in your life.
He hated that feeling he got when he thought about it rationally. Thought about the damage he was doing to himself, to you, to his wife, to Fae. Thought about what kind of man this made him. And he often imagined the fallout. You’d probably get most of the blame. He’d try and defend you and his wife would leave him and his daughter would hate him for a while but would eventually forgive him.
But Fae would never forgive you. And anyone involved would think you were the seducer. That you must have come on to a happily married man, chipped away at his composure until he reluctantly gave in. They’d call you a home wrecker. Slut maybe. The Eve complex and all.
Sure Harry would come out of it looking like a big prick but he’d fair better. He’d eventually start to get big forgiving pats on the back from male members of his family and co-workers. Telling him they understand how it could happen (of course they could). And his wife would also be partially to blame because she’d been neglecting his physical needs– or that would be the gossip. No one would say it to her face. Maybe not even to Harry. But that would be the assumption. That she should have tried harder to keep her man happy. That it was no wonder Harry had strayed.
But none of that was the reality. And he didn’t know if anyone would believe them when he told them that he was the seducer. That he had come on to you. That he went to your apartment and flirted with you and led you to your bedroom and saw your cute SpongeBob panties and fucked you in your own bed over the period of five hours.
Harry saw his ceiling light up when he got a notification on his phone. Rolling over he quickly grabbed and unplugged it before tiptoeing out of the room, leaving his sleeping wife in the bed by herself.
I just got home. What is this?
Harry grinned as he descended the steps and read your message, quietly making his way to his study and closing the doors behind him.
Hi. It’s a toy for you. I’m gonna video call you.
Harry settled on his leather couch and clicked the video call button, letting it ring until you answered.
“Hi, Harry,” you adjusted the camera so your pretty face was in view as you sat on your own living room couch.
“Hi, pup. How was work?”
Harry heard you sigh and watched your eyes round out as you started talking about your late shift, describing one table that was particularly grating.
“But… what’s this? It says luxury app-controlled, sound-activated egg vibrator for ecstasy-inducing sharable play,” you laughed as you read the side of the box.
“Well, it’s just what it says. We’ll look at it tomorrow and connect to the app so I can have access to it whenever we want to use it. S’just like something for when I’m not there.”
“Tomorrow?” You looked from the box to the phone screen in question.
“Yeah. In the morning. Is that okay? I know you work tomorrow night and I figured I could come over for a few hours before you have to get to the restaurant.”
You nodded with your large grin and bright eyes, “Yes! Of course it is!”
.           .           .
It turned out that all Harry needed to get to sleep was to hear your voice on the phone. When he woke up the following morning his wife was just coming out of the bathroom, brushing her teeth, fresh-faced and soft and cozy looking.
That stab of anxiety he’d been stuck on the night before came rushing back, icing his veins and dampening the excitement he normally would have felt knowing he was going to see his lover.
It felt like a warning. He needed to talk to you.
When he left his house he’d told his wife he was going into the office. Which he would, after he left your apartment. The nice thing about his job title was that he could come and go from the office as he pleased. He could tell everyone he’d been in a lunch meeting or a golf outing with a potential buyer. He could tell his wife he was going to work.
Knocking at your front door he felt a bit of dread. He wanted to see you and kiss you but he needed to sort out what had been weighing on him before you parted ways for the day.
You opened your door in just a pair of panties and pulled him inside quickly so no one saw your state of undress.
You nearly climbed up his frame, jumping into his arms as he placed his hands under your thighs to hold you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him as your soft tits pressed into his button-up shirt.
He brought you to your bedroom, keeping an eye open so he didn’t trip on the way. You were insatiable.
When he dropped you onto your bed he climbed over your body and smoothed his hands up your torso letting his palms squish your breasts, “What’s going on, puppy? Couldn’t wait to get me in your bed?”
You laughed against his lips and nodded, “You’re the one who brought me in here. I was just saying hello.”
Harry shook his head and sat back between your legs, “You greeted me wearing only panties and then jumped on me like you were some kind of wild barbarian. I think you wanted me in your bed.” He pinched your nipples between his fingers and you gasped.
“Just…” you decided to give in far too fast. You did miss him. You woke up from a dream about him and it left you needy and hot and horny. And normally you’d have taken care of it but you knew Harry was coming so you waited. And now you were on edge. “Just fuck me.”
Harry raised a brow and grinned, “Just fuck you? What a potty mouth. Where are your manners, dear?”
You groaned and pulled at his collar to bring him down over you, “Please. God… please sir. I need you.”
Harry smiled against your lips as he quickly began to undo his pants, “There we go. There’s my sweet girl. Needs me so badly today. Fuck, honey…” he moaned when he felt how slick you were already, a finger along the side of your panties.
Pressing your thighs into your chest he hooked his fingers into the crotch of your panties, pulling it to the side, and attached his lips to your pussy, making you whine loudly. He sucked and licked and moaned into you until you couldn’t take it anymore.
You wanted something else, “Give me your cock. Please, sir. Want your come so bad.”
Harry kissed your labia and closed his eyes. You loved his come. Ever since that night, you begged him to breed you it had been more of a thing. In fact, you rarely let him come anywhere other than inside of your cunt. Even if you were gagging on his cock and he was beginning to release you’d drag him down and beg him to give it to you in your pussy where it belonged (your words). And he didn’t like denying you.
Though the last morning he saw you he came on your tits and you pouted about the waste.
“Want me to fill your little pussy full so you can go wait tables with my come packed inside of you?”
Nodding your head you moaned and yanked at his collar again. Harry laughed, “Careful. Gonna tear it, baby.”
“Please take it off, Harry.” You fidgeted under him and began to pluck at his buttons.
Harry grinned at you and sat up again so he could unbutton his shirt. But first, he swatted at your bare thigh before moving your fingers away from his shirt, “You don’t think I’m gonna take care of you? What’s got you so riled up, pup?”
You didn’t know how much more you could take. You weren’t in the mood for any teasing and you were running short on time before he needed to leave. You needed to feel that connection with him. To feel him inside of you.
“Dreamed of you and woke up needing you so bad. Please…” You reached for him again as Harry was undoing his buttons. He leaned back away from your grasp and stood up to disrobe himself before pulling your panties down your legs.
“A dream?” He asked as he shoved you into the bed so your head landed on your pillows and he settled in between your legs, pushing at your soft thighs, “Tell me about it. What happened in your dream?”
You groaned and pouted, “Please… please fuck me, Harry!”
Harry held your wrists down as you attempted to grab at him again, “Ah, ah, ah… tell me what your dream was and then I’ll fuck you.”
You huffed and let out a grunt of disappointment before looking at him directly to tell him quickly what he wanted to know. You just needed him to hurry up and put himself inside of you, “You were fucking me. Really hard and I woke up before I could come.”
“Mmm… yeah? And what position were in you? How was I fucking you, puppy?”
“At first you were soft and on top of me but then you flipped me to my tummy and spanked me and entered me while my tummy was flat on the bed and you held me down and just… it was really hard and fast and my face was stuffed into the blankets and then I woke up.”
“That sounds yummy. Should we reenact that?” Harry slid his cockhead through your labia, the wetness coating him.
You nodded, “Anything. Just… please.”
Thrusting in shallowly, you moaned and bucked your hips upward to push him in deeper. You were getting impatient. Needed to be filled to the brim right then.
“Woah, there. Slow down, pup. I know you want me to just fuck you til your dumb with no thoughts in that little head of yours but I want to savor this. Love feeling the way you open for me,” Harry spoke softly but with a bit of a condescending bite, his fingers grasping onto your thighs, “Feel me, honey. Just feel the way my cock pushes into you,” he began to push in deeper, “Feel how hard you make me and how your muscles expand around me. How good it is, baby.”
You put an arm over your eyes and did just that. Let him slowly push his way into you, his thick crown intruding and pushing your insides apart. Stretching. He always did it the way he wanted. Which meant teasing and edging and going in slow at first.
But what you wanted wasn’t exactly something slow and teasing. You let out a sob and jutted your bottom lip out, arm still over your eyes.
You heard Harry chuckle as he grasped your wrist and moved your arm away from your face, “Let me see your face, puppy. Those pretty eyes of yours keep me going when I’m not with you. Need to see them so I can think of you later just like this.”
You loved it. Loved the way he talked to you and how he made you feel. When he was with you, you felt like you were his number one. Of course, when he wasn’t with you, you had your doubts. But in that moment you believed him and looked into his eyes so he could have what he wanted.
“Good girl. Fuck… That feels fucking incredible, doesn’t it? Made for me.” Harry rocked into you with one final plunge, dipping his tip into your cervix and making you squeal like he loved.
“See? Gonna give you what you want. Always do.”
You cooed in relief once he began to drive into you in long, wet strokes. His pubic hair was gradually getting wetter as he bottomed out over and over again.
He started off slow. Just like your dream. The way he rolled his hips into you and dipped into you so deep it ached and made you suck in sharp breaths at each poke.
“Feel good, puppy? This what you needed?”
You softly moaned and nodded, “More too. Want more. Please…”
Harry’s cock was certainly feeling that delicious squeeze you gave him. Goosebumps covered his thighs as he thrusted deep and he keened at the slick warmth of your cunt.
“Please!” You yelped when he suddenly rutted into you in one swift drive, knocking into you with a harsh thud.
He smiled as he pulled himself out and gripped onto your hips, flipping you onto your tummy and giving you a handful of healthy swats to your butt cheeks, leaving bruising marks behind before he tilted your hips so he could press himself right back into you. But this time he didn’t go slow. He was going to fuck you the way you dreamt.
He began fucking into you fast and deep and hard. His hips slapped into your bottom and you yelped and whimpered loudly into the blankets. He held your cheeks apart to watch himself driving into you before leaning over your back and holding you down by the back of your neck.
Your bed squeaked and creaked loudly as he plunged into you in punishing strokes. His own gasps and moans getting increasingly louder.
You loved hearing him moan. Harry wasn’t quiet when he fucked you. He often spoke dirty to you but he also gasped and panted and whimpered right along with you. You absolutely loved it.
“Fuck! Fuck!” He groaned loudly as he worked himself into you as quickly as his strong muscles allowed. And Harry was strong. There was never a single question about that. From the first time you slept with him, you realized just how fit and incredibly solid, and powerful he was.
You were rendered completely silent with your mouth wide open and your blankets stuffed into your mouth, your face smushed into the bed as he railed you hard. Your body smacked up and up and up each time his hips struck against your ass. Loud smacks and wet thuds sounded in the room as he split you in two with his big cock.
It was methodical the way he fucked into you. His thighs bulged and began to burn at the way he was working them. But it wasn’t his muscles that couldn’t keep going. His body was strong and he had great stamina. He could continue sinking into you over and over again in this way for hours. No. What was making it hard to continue was that his balls were tightening and he began to feel the climb of his orgasm so he stopped as he caught his breath, his hand still wrapped around the back of your neck as his chest rose and fell.
You felt him stuff your blankets into a ball underneath you, “Rub your clit on this so you can come for me. Then I’m gonna fill you up like you need.”
You felt the stimulation immediately against your wet clit as he started to drive into you again. This time his words were closer as he spoke into your ear and his lips grazed over your neck, “Come f’me puppy. Want you to feel so good when I pour myself into you.”
You whined and gasped as he slicked into you deep. This time his strokes weren’t as fast but they were achingly deep and every time he bottomed out, your hips drove down into the balled-up fabric of the blankets under you, pressing and rubbing your clit into the material.
Divine and complete. That’s how it felt. His dirty words in your ears. His cock in your cunt. Your heart pounding in your chest.
You squeaked as you began to see stars and writhe your hips into the blankets for more friction. You tried to speak but your mouth was covered by your blankets as you began to pulse around him, the heat covered your back and your bum as you gushed onto the fabric of your blankets.
Harry coughed a loud groan and slid into you slowly as he felt you coming. He gasped when he finally began to come and leak into you, “Gonna put a baby in there, yeah? Fuck! Pussy needs to be bred…” he groaned his words and then stilled his hips, keeping them flush against your bottom as he drained himself into you, throbbing and pumping and twitching so hard you could feel every delicious spurt.
You sighed as you felt your whole body tingle. Harry was shivering with the way your pussy milked him like no one else could and when he collapsed over your back you felt him stuff his arms under your torso and hold you tight. His breath fell over your neck, hot and sticky.
You loved it. Loved every bit of what he gave you. Loved having him connected to you, keeping himself tucked inside of you until you both calmed and could breathe again.
When you felt his lips warm over your skin and down to your shoulder you turned your head so your mouth was clear of your blankets, “You always fuck me so good.” Was all you could get out of your mouth.
Harry chuckled and you felt him move off of you and then roll you to your side as he plopped down next to you, his hands on your hip, “S’that what you needed?”
You grinned and nodded at him, sliding your palm up his chest and relishing the feel of his warm skin and hair under your palm.
It was always soft and sweet after sex. He took care of you. Cuddled with you. Told you how good you were and how you were his favorite girl and how pretty and sweet and smart you were. You were spoiled with the way he cleaned you up and kissed your hot skin and brushed his fingers over your curves and looked into your eyes with that gentle longing that you knew meant his words were real. And that his feelings went beyond those words.
“I wanted to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind a bit.” He said as he buttoned up his shirt and you slid on a pair of shorts.
“Okay. What about?” You didn’t like his sudden serious tone. The change of subject. It sounded serious.
“Come sit down with me.”
You gulped nervously and felt lightheaded. You couldn’t imagine what he’d want to talk about with you that warranted a sit-down.
You sat next to him on your couch and fiddled with the bottom hem of your shirt as you kept your eyes on his.
He appeared nervous too. Or uncomfortable at the very least. Part of you thought maybe he’d want to connect your little toy to his phone but that hadn’t come up yet.
“I feel like what we’re doing is really great, for me and you. When we’re together it’s amazing. I really like you a lot. And I don’t want you to start resenting me or feeling upset that this isn’t a traditional relationship,” he paused and watched you for a moment before continuing. “And thought it might be good if you wanted to like,” he reached behind himself and scratched the back of his neck before breaking eye contact with you, “date someone else.”
You sat in stunned silence. Date someone else? It felt like a slap in the face after that shag you’d just had.
“What? Harry, are you breaking up with me?” He still wasn’t looking at you in the eyes.
“No. Of course not,” then he turned his gaze back to you finally, “I just think it’s not fair, our situation. I’m married and you’re… well…” he inhaled deeply and licked his lips, “You should see other people. Don’t you think?”
You shook your head and stood up from the couch to pace. You were beginning to feel angry, “So what about us? If I start to see someone else that’s it? No more of this?”
Harry stood up and stepped in front of you and took your hands in his, “I would hope you and I could continue seeing each other like this. But I just want you to feel like your life is going in the right direction. That you can date and be with someone else. I want this to be an equal relationship. Does that make sense?” You shook your head again, “Why would I want to see anyone else, Harry? I don’t want anyone else. Just you.” You tried to fight the tears that were filling your eyes and making your sight blurry but you knew the moment you blinked there would be salty wets streak down your cheeks.
“I know puppy, but I’m married and it’s not fair for you. I think it would be good, you know?”
You scoffed, pulling your hands from his and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t call me puppy. That’s not fair.”
He sighed and nodded, “Sorry, Y/n.”
You looked back into his eyes and all you could see was a man you wanted all to yourself. But you knew that wasn’t going to ever happen. But that didn’t mean you wanted to fuck anyone else.
“You’re right. Our relationship has never been even. You have a wife and a happy life. I get your leftovers. But fuck you for thinking that me dating someone else will make you feel better or something. I’m too far gone for that, Harry.”
“I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s for my benefit. I just want you–“
“Oh I heard you. So you want me to fuck other guys? Go on dates and find happiness with someone that I can actually be with? Meanwhile I’m still fucking you in secret so then not only would you be lying and cheating, I would be too. Then we’d be even right? You wouldn’t have as much guilt.”
Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “No, pup­–“
“Don’t!” You pointed at him as your felt the tears drip off your chin, “Don’t call me puppy. Not now. I know what this is. I’m not dumb you fucker.”
You turned to walk toward your kitchen. You need a glass of water. Something to cool you off and get your head level. This news was not something you ever wanted to hear from him. It just meant what you already knew. That he was never going to be yours to have. That this was always only a secret affair. A dirty thing to hide from everyone.
Harry followed you into your kitchen and sighed as he watched you get a glass down from your cupboard with shaky hands. You were trembling so hard he was worried you were going to drop the glass. He hadn’t meant to upset you. He thought it would a way for you to have a life outside of just him. Not that he wanted that. Fuck no he didn’t want anyone else near you. Wanted you to himself but he figured that wasn’t fair of him. He intended for it to be a kind gesture of selflessness but listening to your response had him rethinking that notion.
“I’m sorry,” his voice was right behind you as he helped you grasp your glass and bring it down to the counter. You felt his hand on the back of your hip and his chest press into your back, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that at all. It was not my intention to hurt you, Y/n. I just don’t want to be selfish with you. Hate the thought of anyone else touching you but that’s not fair of me.”
His arms wrapped around your front and he squeezed. You closed your eyes and sniffed, keeping your hands down on the countertop. You were still angry at him.
“Do you understand how I feel about you? I don’t think you do?” He spoke quietly into your ear.
You shook your head in response.
Harry moved and turned you around to face him as he tilted your chin up, “Please look at me.”
Reluctantly you opened your teary eyes and did as he said.
“You’re so so special to me. I know what we’re doing is wrong but it’s not just sex with you. Not for me. I’m not just using you because your cute and fun. I like you a lot, Y/n. More than I should. You’re all I think about these days. I just don’t want you to ever regret our time together. Want you to live a normal life outside of this,” he gestured between you two. “I don’t want to lose what we have but I want you to explore something else. Ya know? Because while I’m at home at night with my wife you’re here alone and I don’t want you to feel like you resent me for keeping you all to myself. If you don’t want to see anyone else that’s your choice. I just want you to know I’ll still feel the same way about you if you do. It’s an option.”
His thumb moved along your jaw in the most tender way and you couldn’t stop the tears from pouring. You didn’t want anyone but him. And you didn’t want him to have anyone but you. If you could you’d have the whole world burn to ash except for a small island in the middle of the ocean where you and Harry could live together forever without anyone else. That’s how bad you had it for him. To invite another person into that felt like a rip to your heart. It would shred your soul in half if you kissed anyone else.
“Harry… I don’t know how to tell you how I feel about us without sounding like I’m,” you hiccupped and wiped your face, “obsessed or crazy… but I just can’t. I can’t be with anyone else. That would tear me apart. I can’t do that.”
Harry pulled you into his chest and held you tight, “You don’t have to, Y/n. I just want you to know you can. If you ever met someone. I don’t want you to but I can’t be selfish with you the way I have been.”
You understood it. But you hated it. And you were still angry. Maybe you weren’t angry at him. Maybe you were, you couldn’t tell. But you were upset and you knew that you’d never wind up happy with him like you fantasized about.
You pushed yourself back and looked up at him, “Okay. I get it. Fine.”
Harry looked sad. Defeated at your words as he blinked his own tears away.
“Are we okay, Y/n?”
You shook your head and scoffed a laugh, “I guess we’re never gonna be okay are we, Harry?”
Harry furrowed his brows. He was upset. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you and I… we don’t get to be together. Not really. Because that’s all this is. It’s just a lie. So I should see someone else. Find myself a man I can be with openly. Like you want.”
He gulped hard and opened his mouth but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. He knew you were hurt. You needed time to calm down and come to terms with it all.
And you wanted him to take it back. Wanted him to change his mind and tell you that he didn’t want you with anyone and he was dumb for suggesting it and that you were only allowed to be his. But he didn’t. Instead, he just looked sad.
“Well, I need to start getting ready for work. I’ve got some things to do. You should go.”
Harry backed away from you as he blinked his eyes. He really really hadn’t meant for it to go this way.
“Should we look at that toy before I go?” He cringed, immediately regretting saying it. Bringing it up. God, he was such a fucking dumbass at times. He was so thrown off by the way you responded and his whole day was going to be spent regretting this entire visit. He should have had the talk before you two had sex. Or maybe he should have never said it to begin with. He thought what he was doing by telling you was a good thing. Maybe it hadn’t been.
You laughed loudly and walked out of your kitchen quickly. Harry followed close behind you as you went into your bedroom and plucked the box up from the floor next to your bed. You shoved it into his chest, “It’s yours. You can take it back or use it on your wife or something. Don’t waste it on your side piece.”
“Hey, Y/n. Come on. Don’t do this…” he followed you into your living room where you picked up his cell phone, wallet, and keys handing them to him, “Do you need a bag? Probably don’t want to walk outside carrying a remote sex toy do you.”
He watched you, stunned as you went into your kitchen and dug out a plastic shopping bag for him, “There. Now you can go.”
“Y/n. Baby…”
“Don’t fucking call me baby or puppy or anything. Leave. Please. I need to be alone.”
You wanted to break down so bad. Needed him gone so you could just unravel and crumble in peace. 
Harry stuck the box into the plastic bag and you watched as tears fell from his lash line down his cheeks. You didn’t want to make him cry. It sucked that you still wanted him happy above all else even in your own misery. But you needed to cry and scream and break something so you needed him gone.
You opened your door and looked down at the knob as you waited for him to leave. He paused next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n, I’m sorry. Please…”
Shaking your head you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You began to sob and suck in sharp breaths, “Just Go, Harry.”
It was the worst moment of your life maybe. Probably. You pushed the man you were smitten with, the one you were sure you’d fallen completely head over heels for, out your door as his own heart broke right in front of you and tears welled in his eyes.
But you couldn’t watch it. Couldn’t bear to see him breaking down or crying. Because you knew he was already hurting. You saw the look on his face. You knew he was suggesting something with only the best intentions for you but it hurt. There was no good thing that could come from you and Harry being together. That was clear.
Months of having fun with him and getting to know him in a way you never thought you would. Learning what real intimacy looks and feels like. Finding yourself drawn to him. You’d formed a bond, the two of you. Trust and respect and comfort. But it was all a lie.
Now you needed to grow up and stop playing around. If you didn’t put an end to it now the hurt you’d feel later down the line would completely destroy you if it hadn’t already.
It wasn’t fair. But perhaps Harry was right.
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gojo-enthusiast · 2 months
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Kento Nanami — No Words, Only Moans
mlist<3
18+, MDI, degrading, angry sex, overstimulation—
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Your darling husband Kento Nanami was not happy with you today. You had always known he was a rather patient husband, so you naturally got away with little back talk, and snarky remarks. This morning you made your husband late for work, when you decided late at night to rearrange his shoes and clothes, you hadn’t realized you didn’t hang his dress shirt he wore for missions, now his laundry is wrinkled, and on the floor. Gojo now calling Kento asking him where he is at?
All through out the day, you had called him asking him common sense questions, like “what are your thoughts on white bread and wheat bread” but to you, you were seeking attention from your agitated husband, and seeing him getting frustrated by your actions, only fueled for you to piss him off more. Finally after the last call, Kento finally was done with your attitude. “Fuck, quit calling me for the rest of the day. You’re driving me berserk.” He snaps. “Excuse me?” You ask in an agitated tone. “You have been picking on me all day, if you don’t have an emergency do not call me, I am working. Fuck— Itadori-Kun, don’t touch that! Gojo-San, you fucking dumbass!” He shouts, hanging up the phone. At this point you knew, you fucked up. Your ass was grass when he got home, he either was going to scold you, or not talk to you until he cools down.
You paced around the living room, as 5PM hit, meaning your husband was going to be home in 17 minutes. Sitting on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, biting your nails. You see the nob turn, and keys dangling. You hear a light mutter behind the door, and a frustrated grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You think to yourself. You rushed to the bathroom, instantly turning the hot water on for a bath, knowing your husband was going to be angry with you, you were trying to soften up his feelings as much as possible. As you hear the front door slam shut. You begin to start putting some epsom salts and essential oils in the bath, something to calm him down. Your heart is racing, your skin has chill bumps. You lacked much cursed energy, so you lived your life as a normal person, but at this moment, you sensed his presence the closer he got, until he was at the bathroom door, staring at you.
“Hey Ken— I drew you a bath.” You lightly said, watching him loosen his tie, you could see his blue shirt was still wrinkled, and he looked disheveled. “Let me take your clothes and I’ll wash and iron them.” You add lightly. Your husband has YET to say a word. You walk over to him, grabbing the tie that was bundled in his hands, and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take full care of your Kento. You felt his head droop down, his mouth next to your ear.
“Listen to me carefully.” He says in a seductive growl. “You’re not allowed to speak, until I say you’re allowed the speak.” He says, making your heart race even faster, “take off your clothes and bend over the counter… now.” He growls. You look up to say something, but you knew if you did so, you might be the next thing he exercises. You look up at him, with your innocent doe eyes, pleading with him to be easy on you. But you saw clear in his eyes, tonight is about him, and him only, he will use you till his hearts content. “Now.” He says louder. You nod lightly, pulling your nightgown off, only left in your silk panties, that you hadn’t even realized you soaked in your arousal. “Wtf is wrong with me?” You think to yourself.
You bend over the counter, hearing your husband turn off the tub, and then come up behind you, his clothed manhood pressed against you, as he gently rubs the fat of your ass, before he lands a hard slap on it. Making your legs shake, and a yelp coming out of your lips. “HUSH!” He shouts. You close your mouth, feeling your arousal slip out of you. “Look at you, soaked. Is this what you wanted, you act like a fucking brat all day, for me to fuck you?” He hisses, he was beyond furious, you could feel the heat coming off his body. He peeled your underwear off, dropping it at your ankles. A moment later, you feel him push a silicone item inside your hole, your walls hugging it so perfectly. “Ah—“ you moan. Then another slap on your ass. You covered your mouth. “Fuck, Do you not fucking listen?” He asks. You nodded, and then stifled the moan that almost escaped your mouth when you felt the machine turn on. “Stand there, and take it. I’m gonna take a bath.” Kento smirks to himself. “Don’t you fucking dare move or talk. I only give you permission to moan.”
Kento watched you as he sat in the bath, relaxing after a long day. He watched you as the vibrator which he controlled on a remote, made you cum over and over and over. It had been the 5th time now, you were crying in pleasure, you couldn’t speak, but your moans were confirming to him, that you were wanting to be fucked merciless. Your hearing had gone in and out, but you heard your husband step out of the bath and walk up to you. He pulled the device out of you, and quickly replaced it with his cock. Instantly slamming into you. “You little slut, you like it when I fuck you like this? You’re gonna fuckin take it.” He grunts, his hips were like a stallion, he slammed them forcefully and fucked you stupid. You felt him pick you up, showcasing yourself to the mirror. “Watch how I fuck your slutty cunt. Watch how I fix that brattiness.” He grunts in your ear, you sat there and watch your husband fuck up into you roughly, “Ken-“ you groan, feeling so overstimulated. “SHUT UP!” he shouts, biting your shoulder. You yelped out from the bite, feeling your stomach tingle, “shut up shut up shut up!” He chanted, he didn’t want to hear you, he wanted to hear nothing come out of your mouth. “I only want to hear your pussy, she listens, unlike you.” He growls, slamming faster, placing his hand on your clit, rubbing quickly. He loved the way you would clamp down on him as you were approaching an orgasm.
You blacked out after squirting all over the mirror, you woke up 10 minutes later, to you lied on your stomach, and your back arched. Kento was slamming into you still. His cock was throbbing, he had busted already, yet he needed more. “Fuck!! You make me so fucking angry. You never fucking listen.” He says as he thrust. “Kenny, I’m sorry baby. Please slow down.” You moan, feeling your walls and stomach tighten again. “I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He grunted, he was so entranced and addicted to your pussy that nothing you could do, could calm him the fuck down. “Please, ah- Kenny.” You whimpered, you moaned so deliciously, making his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I could fuck you forever. I don’t want to hear— hear your words, I just want to hear you cry for more.” Kento groaned, his cock was so sensitive, yet he couldn’t stop. “Ken, feels so so good. I’ll be so so good now, I just-just missed you so so much.” You moan out. “I wont ever leave you.” He moaned into your ear, as his thrust began to get sloppy, and his head next to yours. You felt him pull out, flipping you over, inserting himself back into you sopping sensitive cunt. He thrust quickly, while her hand found your clit and rubbed it quickly. “Cum, now.” He grunted, as his cock twitched and started shooting out inside of you. “Ah yes yes yes!” You chanted, cumming and squirting all over his cock. “Kento, please slow down.” You moaned, feeling your legs spasm. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Water, I need water.” You groan. Your husband’s vision, finally clearing and his head less foggy. “Hmm?” He hummed as he slid out, and lied beside you, slipping off the bed to grab water. You stared at his figure, as his cock began to finally soften, and he looked thoroughly satisfied. He handed you a bottle water, and you downed it like you were dehydrated. “I’m sorry kento.” You pout. He kissed your forehead, and whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. You better get your breather in, you messed with me for 8 hours, we have 5 more hours to go.” He said, as you watched his cock swole back up. The only thought in your head— “oh fuck, I really fucked up.”
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multifariousqueer · 4 months
Note
Hi! I see your looking for felix requests?
Can you do a felix who is obsessed with a reader who doesnt care for him?
Fsfs babes!!!
Warning: Felix being a stalker, Farleigh being a catty bitch, fluff, I think that's it
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“Dude, stop staring," Farleigh says in a huff.
"Don't be ridiculous, Farleigh I'm not staring" Felix defended, despite his tireless efforts, his attempts at convincing others and himself that he wasn't obsessed with your being were in vain as no one believed him, not even himself.
Felix had noticed you from across the quad at Oxford on the first day of school. Your brown eyes glowed as your chest heaved with laughter at your friend's joke. He watched in envy as your full attention was placed on your friend and how he got to bask in your presence. From that moment on, Felix was obsessed with you.
It started out simple enough, Felix joined all of your classes and he would always sit a row behind you so he could watch you and what you were doing; Felix justified this as him wanting to learn more about you(and smell your hair). Whenever you would raise your hand in class, Felix would swoon over how smart you are. He took notice of how you would turn to your guy friend and high-five him whenever you got above a B on a test or quiz and Felix's brows would furrow in jealousy and envy as your guy friend absorbed your attention. Felix began to question what drew you to him so much, was it his money? Felix had plenty of money. Was it his looks? Felix considered himself more handsome than most. So what was it? He didn't know, but he was willing to learn.
Felix started to slip you anonymous gifts and letters to your dorm every week. He bought you anything and everything, from roses to tennis bracelets worth thousands. You once walked into your dorm and saw a diamond necklace and a new iPod on your bed(after ranting to your best friend about needing a new one) with a note that read:
"A very pretty necklace for a very pretty girl ;). Love, your secret admirer"
You squealed and thought that your best friend had gotten it for you. The next day in class, you thanked him profusely only for him to look confused and say:
"uhhh thanks?"
Felix's blood began to boil. He couldn't believe that this Jag was taking credit for a $5,000 necklace and a new iPod that Felix had gone out of his way to buy. It wasn't a huge expense on Felix, he bought it with some money he found in his dorm but it was the principle of the fact that irked his last nerve. From that moment on, he despised your friend and began his plan to win you over.
Felix wasn't stupid, he wanted to keep tabs on you so he had the iPod implanted with a tracker so he could have your documents on his phone. Next, he saw that you were going to the pub so he decided to make his move there and ask you out by buying you a drink. He saw your message to your friend about loving a specific scent on men and he went out and bought it the next day. Felix put on his best outfit and gathered his friends to go to the pub.
You were sitting in a black dress that was a tad bit too short and nursing a cosmopolitan. Felix saw you and his eyes immediately lit up:
"Do I hear wedding bells?" Farleigh teased, holding a cigarette and smirking
"Shut up, Farleigh" Felix said, blushing as he made his way over to you.
He walked up to the bar and asked the bartender for a cosmopolitan on him:
"I'll buy the lady's next one" he said, confidently
"Oh! Thank you but I was just about to head home" you said
"Nonsense, it's only 12 on a Friday," Felix said trying to get you to stay.
"No no, I should get home and study but it was nice speaking to you and Thank you for the drink offer" you said, attempting to excuse yourself but Felix's strong build held you in.
"Oh come now, Y/n. Have fun it's just one drink" he smiled
"How do you know my name?" you asked confused
Felix realized that he had slipped up. He was supposed to ask your name and you were supposed to introduce yourself in a story that he would tell your future children.
"Uhh we're in the same class" he stumbled
"Which class?" you asked
All of them. But Felix couldn't say that because he didn't want to scare you off so he settled with:
"Literature"
"Ohhhh. Hey don't you sit behind me? Oh! You must be Felix" you stood up, suddenly remembering where this suave stranger was from
"Yeah haha. Small world, huh?" he said, relief littering his tone.
"Yeah" you cooed.
"Well I should leave but maybe we could get drinks another time, here's my number," you said giving Felix the number to your new ipod.
"Yeah of course, darling" Felix smirked
"Darling?" you asked, tilting your head a bit smiling
"Yes?" Felix let out a cheeky smile.
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littledovesnow · 4 months
Text
a growing family | part 4
a/n: the finale!!!! i had so much fun with this mini series, i hope you love it!
warnings: childbirth (but traumatic), idk... hospitals? inaccurate medical stuff (i worked in a hospital but i don't know shit about medicine!!!!)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
-----
Following a few Peacekeepers back to the train, you and Coriolanus talked softly about the conclusion of the tour.
“How did you like to see my old stomping grounds?” He asked, referring to the quick stop you two had made in the Hob so you could use the restroom.
“It certainly looks like the place that could draw a crowd.” You smiled, thanking the Peacekeeper as he helped you into the train.
Coriolanus walked dutifully as you more-so waddled down the aisle to the private car. “Are you feeling okay?”
He had noticed you taking more breaks while walking, discomfort on your face.
Nodding, you toed off your shoes and lounged with your feet on the opposite bench, letting your husband rub them once more. “Just ready to get these babies out of me. I feel like a beached whale.”
Coriolanus laughed, looking out the window as the train began the two-day journey back to the Capitol. “I’m sure they’re excited to be out in the world, have more space to move.”
You snorted, letting your head roll back and lean against the plush booth. “How long do you think we have until they come?”
“A couple more weeks, I hope. It’s still a little early.” Coriolanus chuckled as you let out a moan when he got a particularly rough knot out of your foot. “What are you thinking for dinner tonight, my love?”
You two continued the conversation while you both watched the trees go by, content in your last days alone.
-----
The following morning, you woke before your husband, smile coming to your face when you saw the Capitol’s skyline in the distance.
Slowly rising from the bed, you paused for a moment when the world went off-kilter.
You stood and walked over to the exit of the private car, moving into the dining one for something to drink, never understanding why your mouth was so dry when traveling on the train.
 “Goodmorning, ma’am. How are you feeling?” A Peacekeeper asked, soft smile on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Tired. How about yourself?” You replied, eying the mug of coffee with envy.
You two kept a quiet conversation until the door opened once more, Coriolanus entering the car.
“You could’ve woken me; I would’ve gotten you something to drink.” He chastised, pressing a soft kiss to your head.
Rolling your eyes, you smiled as the Peacekeeper left to give you and Coriolanus some privacy. “Coryo, I’m going to be holed up in a bed for weeks in a few days, let me get movement while I still can.”
Coriolanus tsked as he looked over what would be served for breakfast shortly, smile coming to his face when you pulled his free hand into your own, fiddling with his wedding band. “How are the babies doing?”
Shrugging, you looked out the window as the snow-capped mountains drew nearer. “They’re getting anxious, certainly hope they’re both in the correct position now.”
Coriolanus chewed on his lip as he hummed in agreement, not wanting you to experience surgery if it could be avoided. “We shall see, you’re meeting with the doctor the day after tomorrow, correct?”
Nodding, you sipped the tea that was placed in front of you. “Unless I go into labor beforehand.”
The elephant in the room was finally mentioned, and Coriolanus’ frown returned.
“Coryo, you know as well as I do that there’s a high possibility we’ll become parents before the end of the week. I want as much as you do to wait until it’s safer, closer to the due date, but twins come early a lot.”
Nodding, the blonde took a long sip of his coffee. “As long as you’re all okay, that’s all that matters.”
-----
You woke to a loud screech, groaning into Coriolanus’ chest as the train stopped moving, stationed back at the Capitol.
“Good morning, welcome home.” Coriolanus whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Good morning, Coryo.”
Both of you getting up, albeit you at a slower pace than Coriolanus, there was a small crowd cheering when you two disembarked the train, publicity-trained smiles on both of your faces.
Several reporters for the Capitol News had come to the station, vying for questions about the tour and wondering it’s success.
You sucked in a breath while Coriolanus spoke with Lucky Flickerman, keeping your face neutral as you interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me, Lucky, but Coriolanus and I have prior engagements we need to get to.”
Coriolanus sent you a look as you dragged him away from the cameras. He leaned down to ask you a question, voice soft to keep it off of the microphones. “What are you talking about?”
Looking up at him, you sent him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been in labor since four this morning. We’re going to the hospital.”
-----
You groaned in pain as your OB/GYN walked into the room, smile on her face. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, my dear.”
“Well, we like to keep you on your toes.” You grumbled, letting out a sigh as the pain dissipated.
“Where’s Coriolanus? I expected him to be stationed next to you the entire time.”
Laughing, you watched as the doctor put some bands over the bump to monitor the twins. “He stepped out to call Tigris and my mother. He should be back shortly.”
Moving to examine you, you looked on the monitor to watch the babies’ heartbeats.
Coriolanus re-entered the room soon after the examination ended, smiling at the doctor when he noticed her, though when he saw the tears brimming on your lash line his smile dropped. “What happened?”
“Baby B is still in a breech position, we’re going to have to do a C-section.”
At the doctor’s repeated explanation, Coriolanus was next to you in an instant, clasping your hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay, dove. You’ve got wonderfully trained doctors, the best in all of Panem, you’ll be fine.”
It felt like a whirlwind while you were being prepped for surgery, contractions getting worse as time went on.
Coriolanus stood next to you, wanting nothing more than to help take the pain away, willing the pain away.
“Mr. Snow, we’ll be going to operating room shortly. We don’t normally allow this, but you are able to sit in the surgery with us. Meet your children.”
You frantically looked up at Coriolanus, nodding rapidly. “Please, please Coryo. I need you, I can’t- I don’t want to do this alone.”
Coriolanus nodded, allowing himself to be layered in the sterile gown and booties, nerves skyrocketing as if he was the one on the table. “You’ll be okay, my love. It’s going to be okay.”
There was an oxygen cannula pressed against your face, IV into your arm, short curtain set up on top of you, inhibiting your view of the doctors at your other end.
Coriolanus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, salty with the sweat still beading along your skin.
You felt the pinprick of a local anesthetic, the sounds of medical instruments being picked up and jostled, and the low voices of the surgeons and doctors birthing your children.
“You doing good up there, Mrs. Snow?” One of the surgeons asked, glancing up at your stats.
You nodded, too afraid to speak.
“Alright, let’s meet Baby Number One.” Your OB/GYN smiled, and a piercing cry erupted into the room. “Welcome to the world, Little Girl Snow.”
“A girl, we have a girl, Coryo.” You looked over at Coriolanus, ignoring the pressure in your head.
“We have a girl, love.” Coriolanus smiled, tears threatening to spill over.
You heard one of the machines behind you beeping more incessantly, the voices of the doctors growing muffled and distant.
“Coryo, some-something’s wrong. I feel- something is wrong.” You mumbled, words slurring.
Coriolanus felt his heart drop onto the floor at your admission, head snapping to the doctors who had started to rapidly soaking blood up, and he could pick out a few phrases from their rapid chatter, the words “obstetric hemorrhage” sending chills down his body.
“What’s wrong, what’s going on with my wife?” Coriolanus yelled, terror on his face.
“Mr. Snow, you’re going to have to head to the waiting room.” A nurse spoke, ushering him out of the operating room.
He saw one of the doctors pressing his fingers onto the second baby’s chest, while a handful of other surgeons and doctors focused on you, and Coriolanus had never felt fear quite like this.
-----
Four hours had passed since you were ripped from Coriolanus’ sight, four hours since he last saw his children. “A boy and a girl, Mr. Snow. Congratulations.” The nurse had said, smile on her face.
How she could smile in the face of a man whose wife could be dead, he’ll never know.
Coriolanus’ knee was bouncing a mile a minute as he awaited any news on your state, on the babies, on anything.
“Mr. Snow?”
His head shot up when he heard a soft voice call his name, and he saw a nurse approaching, hesitant smile on his face.
“Is my wife okay?” He asked, eyes frantic.
Nodding, the nurse lead him to a private room, away from any prying eyes. “Mrs. Snow is stable. She experienced a large quantity of blood loss during the birth, but with some transfusions, she is stable and should wake up shortly.”
Nodding, Coriolanus let out a sigh. “The babies? Are they- can I see them?”
The nurse paused, and Coriolanus saw a tick in her jaw.
“What’s wrong with my children?”
“The boy, I’m not sure if you’ve decided on names yet, but the boy will need to be monitored for a few weeks here. His lungs weren’t as developed as his sister’s, but with some supplemental oxygen and time, he should be a fighter.”
“My daughter, is she okay?”
“Would you like to meet your daughter, Mr. Snow?”
The nurse lead him to the nursery, motioning for him to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Newborns do best with skin-to-skin, if you unbutton your shirt, I can place her on your chest.”
Coriolanus quickly undid the buttons, ignoring the nurse’s gasp at the few bruises on his chest from back on the train, and gently placed the newborn in his arms.
The baby was smaller than he expected, having never held a newborn before, but he felt enamored by her, by his daughter. Already, he was wrapped around her little finger, wanting nothing more than to give her the world.
“She has her mother’s eyes.” Coriolanus whispered, soft smile on his face as he rocked slowly in the chair.
Looking up at the nurse, Coriolanus asked about you, when you would be awake and ready to meet the twins.
“It’s hard to say, some mothers wake up shortly after birthing. Others, ones who had complications not unlike your wife, it can be a few hours to days before they wake. Rest assured, your wife is being monitored closely, and you will be able to bring your daughter to meet her mother.”
Coriolanus nodded, blinking back the few tears that threatened to leak.
He was thankful you two had decided to have the hospital facility to sign NDA contracts, not wanting his soft side to be released to the public.
“I’ll let you two bond, just press that green button when you need anything.”
Coriolanus thanked her, looking down at the small baby in arms.
“Welcome to the world, little one. You and your brother aren’t going to have to worry about a thing, I’ll make sure of it.”
-----
Coriolanus looked at himself in the mirror of your hospital room’s bathroom. The man staring back at him did not look like the Coriolanus Snow who was on the presidential election posters that were recently debuted to the public.
No, the man staring back at Coriolanus had greasy, unkempt hair, stubble popping up along his face, and bags under his eyes. Tigris had stopped in with a change of clothing and something to eat, knowing her cousin wouldn’t eat if it meant leaving your side.
The twins were recovering well, the boy’s lungs growing stronger with each passing day.
You were now Coriolanus’ top priority, you still haven’t woken from the emergency surgery and complications from days prior.
The doctors were unsure of why you hadn’t woken yet, speculating your body needed more rest than you let on, the tour taking a toll on your body.
Coriolanus walked back to the chair on the side of your bed, cracking his neck as he sat down and took your hand in his.
“The babies are doing well, doctor’s speculate we’ll be able to take them home in a few days. We have to name them first, and I know we decided on what to call them, but it feels wrong to sign the certificates without you there.”
The blonde man had taken to talking about his day, explaining things the twins were doing, hoping you would wake up and respond to his ramblings.
The only response he got was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the only thing keeping Coriolanus sane.
A knock on the door drew Coriolanus out of his stupor, tight smile coming to his lips when he saw Tigris.
“How is she?” The older Snow asked, dropping a small box of baked goods on the table next to your bed.
“The same.” Coriolanus croaked, voice raw from the nights he spent crying, hoping you didn’t suffer the same end that his mother did.
It was as if Tigris could hear his inner monologue, as she hugged her cousin tightly. “She won’t be like your mom, she’s going to wake up, and she’s going to raise those babies down the hall, and she’s going to be your First Lady.”
Coriolanus nodded, dam breaking as tears escaped his eyes, racing down his chin to meet each other.
-----
Two weeks after you had become parents, Coriolanus had to make an appearance in public to show the Capitol he was still strong, and he would be Panem’s next president.
He was sitting next to Lucky Flickerman, answering lukewarm questions and entertaining the premise that he was running on a full night’s sleep, not the coffees he had been all-but bathing in.
While the show was at a break, one of the Capitol News associates came over to the two men, serious look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr. Snow.”
Coriolanus looked over to him, Lucky frowning that his story had been interrupted.
“Mr. Snow, I’ve just gotten a call from a Tigris Snow? She said that you’re needed at the Capitol Medical Center urgently.”
Coriolanus felt the blood rush to his ears as he left the station without a single look back, commanding his driver to what had become his second home at this point.
-----
Footfalls echoing off the walls, Coriolanus’ eyes were wide as he turned the corner and entered the room that had become familiar over the last weeks, the room seemingly brighter when he saw your smiling face back at him.
“Love.” Coriolanus sighed, rushing to your side, kissing you as if he was starved.
You kissed back just as eagerly, only breaking the kiss when you felt your stitches pull. “Hi, Coryo.”
“Hi, dove.”  
-----
a/n: the end <3 maybe you'll see this beautiful family in some future fics!
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sommerbueckers · 2 months
Text
My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??
(smut😏)
A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.
I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.
"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.
I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."
"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."
"So...why're you here?" I frowned.
"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."
My unimpressed look didn't falter.
After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.
"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."
I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'
Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."
I turned around, staring at her from across the room.
"I just-"
"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.
"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.
"Goodbye to me?"
"Yes you."
"Why me?"
"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"
"No you, you can," I stammered.
Paige nodded contently, "Good."
She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.
I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.
I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.
When we pulled away, she took a step back.
"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.
She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.
"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.
Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."
"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."
I stepped closer.
"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."
She stepped closer.
At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.
In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.
I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.
I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.
She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.
We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.
"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.
I shook my head, "Not enough."
As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.
"Wider" she said.
I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.
This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'
I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?
She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.
I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."
She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.
Up and down.
Circles.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Circles.
The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.
I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.
"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.
"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.
"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.
Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.
"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.
She laughed.
"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.
She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.
"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."
She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.
"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."
I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.
"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.
"Y-yes" I panted.
"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.
I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.
She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."
I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.
"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.
I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"
"Two weeks."
OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???
Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...
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bi-writes · 3 months
Text
bestfriend!roommate!simon leaves on an assignment, but he needs your help first. (18+)
more bff!roommate!simon (part 9/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon has thicc thighs, lap sitting, fem+m!receiving touching, thigh riding because i cant resist, soft!dom!simon, praise kink, size kink (reader described to be moved/handled easily by him), the mask doesn't come off, simon is a cocky bastard, a lotta angst
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"simon, if you keep moving, i won't be able to finish, quit squirming."
"sorry, luv--afraid you'll prick me with that bloody thing."
you stuck your tongue out at him for a moment before setting back against his thighs. you sat so nicely there, your ass perched on the thick muscle as you worked. you had your tongue between your teeth as you concentrated.
your fingers held a thick needle, weaving it through the fabric of simon's balaclava and the plastic skull plate. he had ruined another piece; he had come home after his last deployment with the skull plate in pieces. he did not explain what had happened to it; you only tried to ignore the streaks of red along the face of it when you watched him throw it away.
you saw him sitting on the couch, trying to sew it together, but his big fingers made it a little difficult; you sweetly asked if you could help. a big plus--you got to sit in simon's lap and bask in the heat of him.
you adjusted, moving around until you were straddling his wide hips. you had to spread your own to accommodate his size, sitting up high to be able to reach the top of his head, weaving the thread through to tie the plastic to the fabric.
"bloody tits are in m'face, luv."
"yeah? never heard a man complain about that before," you laughed lowly. he grunted in response, a gloved hand wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. "what? you don't like 'em?"
he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, and you laughed again, continuing to sew the plastic to the fabric.
"you're gonna look so scary," you smiled wide. "you like looking scary on the field?"
"keeps the little ones at bay."
"everyone's little to you, simon."
"aye."
you snorted, settling in his lap as you were almost finished sewing the mask. you tied off the thick thread when you were finished, using some scissors to cut the excess fabric. you met his eyes as you sat there, and you smiled at him; maybe he did look intimidating, but all you could think about was how those pretty eyes sparkled last night when he came into your hand and how much you were going to miss that look when he was gone.
"the paint, simon?"
he held up a small jar in one hand, and you took a brush from the coffee table and began to draw lines down the face of the mask. you passed over his dark eyes, winking at him playfully before doing the same line on the other half of the mask. you put the brush down, dipping the tip of your manicured finger in it and then starting to draw the lines down where the mouth of his face would be.
you could feel his warm breath against your finger, and you cupped his cheek with your other hand, holding him firm as you drew along the mask.
"i'm going to miss you, simon," you whispered, swallowing hard. you avoided his eyes, focusing on drawing along the cloth. you let out a shaky breath. "i-i mean...i always miss you, but now you're gonna be gone and...whenever you go, you go for a long time, and--"
simon squeezed your waist gently, quieting you. your bottom lip trembled a little, and you looked down, away from him.
"i-i'm sorry. i don't mean to get upset. it's stupid."
stupid. there was nothing stupid about being vulnerable. nothing stupid about baring yourself, being naked to someone in more ways than just the physical. the sex was easy together; it was everything else that simon fought with. feeling. being. loving. the mundane of that love, like coming home.
and coming home was not easy.
"'s not stupid, luv. i know i leave y'here. i know," he shook his head. "i don't do it on purpose, y'know that."
you nodded, "yes, yeah...i know. it's your job. and you're good at your job, and you made a commitment to your team, and they rely on you like you rely on them--i-i know the reasons." you smiled sadly. "i know. i just miss you...that's all."
there was an itch in the back of your head, a hoarseness lodged in your throat--sometimes you wanted to just keep talking, because forbid this be the last time i say it to you.
he hummed lowly, sliding his hands down low and cupping both sides of your ass, bringing you close. you wipe your hands off of the paint, sighing deeply, relaxing as simon leaned back against the couch and held you near. your hands circled around his neck, hugging him back as you breathed in each other--your scent, the sounds of your breath, the feel of each other's warmth.
you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down simon's cheeks.
"let me get you geared up, yeah?"
you didn't wait for simon to answer. you picked yourself up off his lap, going to where he had his things laid out. you picked up his tactical vest, holsters, his skull-painted gloves, and you brought them back to the couch. simon sat up as you draped the vest over his head, fitting it over his shoulders. you untucked the hood of his jacket from under the vest, making sure it sat right before fastening the straps and making sure it was secure. you tugged on the straps just to make sure, your eyes skimming over the British flag on his chest and the prominent letters spelling SAS.
you busied yourself with switching out his gloves now, replacing the plain black ones with the painted-skull bone gloves. you didn't react to the calloused fingertips or the jagged scars along his hands. simon was so beautiful--every part of him was.
"i'm really proud of you, simon," you said softly. he hummed lowly but said nothing. you kissed his cheek gently, trying to meet his eyes and smile at him. "have i ever told you that?" simon shook his head, his eyes raising to stare intensely right into yours. you bit your lip. "well, i am. proud. you've come so far. they would be proud, too."
you didn't have to specify who they were. simon didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered.
you reached for one of the thigh holsters, sitting back and motioning for him to stand. when he did, you tried not to think about how much simon towered over you like this. he was taller than you, so much broader, taking up so much of your space. you reached up and started to fasten the holsters around his thigh, your fingers skimming the taut muscle there as you buckle it around him. you didn't comment on the fact that you nearly had to loosen the strap all the way just to fit around the thick of him.
you reached for the other holster, fastening it around his other thigh and looking up at him after you had finished. fuck, he looked good like this. he looked so much bigger--the width of him was greater, with you seated, you had to bend your neck back far, and having his back to the window cast low shadows over his face, darkening his gaze and giving him an eerie backlight. but you would never be afraid of simon--even all dressed up.
your lips part gently when his gloved hand cups just under your chin. you mewled lowly, looking up at him with those big eyes and a soft voice. simon knelt down suddenly, widening his thighs to cage you in on the couch and keeping a gentle hold of your chin.
"'m gonna be back before you know it, luv. sittin' right there--" he tilted his head to the spot to your left, "--y'know that, right?"
you broke out into a soft smile, bouncing a little as you nodded your head. simon clenched his jaw under the mask--fuck, you were so cute, so fucking sweet. there was nothing more comforting than knowing you were waiting for him when he came back--that you would be sitting here just like this, with this little smile on your face, your eyes so wide and pretty.
"i know," you whispered. you leaned over, smoothing your hands over the front of his vest before absentmindedly playing with the straps of it. "i know, simon. still going to miss you."
you don't meet his eyes. it was hard; simon was an important part of your life. any time you lived in his absence, it was lonely. now that you lived together, it felt that much lonelier--there was a room cold and unoccupied, an empty seat at the table, a spot on the couch without him in it. his voice soothed no nightmares and his warmth took away none of your shivering. you never told him that when you called; you only spoke of the meal you had cooked that you told him he would like and the annoying step at the entrance that the landlord still hadn't come to mend.
"c'mere."
simon smoothed his gloved hand down your chin, wrapping his fingers delicately around your throat. with a firm grip, he guided you into his lap as he sat back against the couch again, your body easily settling between his thighs again. your face relaxed, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you pressed your lips to the fabric over his neck. you sighed deeply, legs resting on either side of one of his thighs.
your head tilted back, your eyes peeking up to look at him. he moved his own head to the side, and beneath the skull, you could see those pretty dark eyes--beautiful, undeniable need in them. simon was terrible at hiding what he felt behind his eyes--they were warm, and his pupils were dilated, and you wondered if he saw the same pretty things in you that you saw in him.
your eyes fluttered when you felt one hand slide down the length of your spine. a warm, gentle hand, smoothing along the back of your shirt before cupping one side of your ass. you whined, a soft little sound escaping as you jumped slightly. your legs squeezed around his thigh, and you let out a gasp at the gentle grind. you reached up and cupped one side of his face at the first trace of pleasure, your lips pressing to the other side of it as he encouraged you to do it again.
you did. following his guiding hand, you dragged your hips up again, a strangled moan leaving you as you grind against his thigh. but it wasn't enough--as you moved, you whimpered against simon's face, letting out hot breaths of frustration. your jeans were too much of a barrier, not allowing for enough stimulation, and you felt pathetic when you heard simon's low chuckle.
"awww, sweetheart...look at ya..." he reached up with one paw of a hand and tangled a gloved hand into your hair, tugging on it firmly. he grunted as he watched your mouth fall open, slack jawed, drooling a little as you squeezed your thighs around his own. "look at tha'face. fuckin' beautiful, innit? that face you make when you want your cunny all nice and wet...when you want it pet..."
you cried out at that, nuzzling your face into his mask, kissing at the fabric and licking over the strong line of his jaw and hoping to god that he would have mercy on his pretty little roommate. that he would have mercy on her pretty face, on his name tumbling out of her mouth, on the way she grinded on his thigh like a lovesick bunny in heat.
"sound pathetic, luv..." he gripped the back of your neck, holding you at a distance now. he gripped the front of your jeans roughly, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. "now be a good puppy and take 'em off."
you shimmied out of your jeans, slipping them down your legs and kicking out of them. you were about to slip your panties off, pretty pink lace that hugged your ass so cute, but simon stopped you, forcing you back down to straddle his thigh.
"i like these," he murmured. "want them on."
you smiled, putting both hands on his vest. you gripped it tight, as tight as you could handle kevlar and bulletproof material, and then you nuzzled your face into mouth of his mask and began to ride his thigh. you were shaking. the straps of his holster were catching on your clit, and your hands were growing clammy as you tried to hold onto him for stability. you wanted to be good. you wanted to show simon how good you could be, how if he just unzipped his cargo pants and dropped them low enough, you could ride his cock so good, he'd see the fucking stars.
you hitched yourself higher on his leg, your thighs squeezing around the meat of his thigh, and he grunted lowly when your knee met his crotch. as you bounced, you rubbed up against him, and you squeaked when his gloved hand gripped your hair roughly, forcing your lips against the front of his mask. your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, a choked moan leaving you, and you kept going. you needed to show him, he needed to know--he needed to know that you wanted him, that you wanted this.
you let one hand drop, fall from his vest, and he growled out a string of angry curses when that soft hand gripped his cock through his pants. it was rough, a little aggressive, and you met his eyes easily.
"i want it--i-i want it--!" you cried. "i w-want more--"
he chuckled, and you felt tears prickling the edges of your big eyes as he laughed. your heart ached because you knew he was laughing at you. you sounded broken. you sounded lost. you sounded pathetic, but you couldn't care, you just couldn't bring yourself to. you needed more with simon.
you were tired of the in-between. you were sick of what if, when, the maybes that surrounded the unspoken thing between you. every grind of your hips, every drop of your slick that dampened his pants, all of it was just something in you screaming what are we?
he called your name, and you wanted to care about what he thought, but you needed him to know. you slipped your arms around his neck, moving until you straddled his hips, pressing your cunt right over the hardness stuck in his zipper and continuing your desperate pace.
you were going to make him understand this feeling inside. the gnawing in your chest--the thing that wanted to be outside so bad, it would claw its way out, it would force its fingers through your throat until simon could see that this wasn't a mistake.
this wasn't forgotten moments that lingered after dark. this wasn't the inevitable of a man and a woman who lived together. this was the catalyst of a bond too strong. two things, unable to be taken apart, to be reduced to separate things. there was not a simon riley without you, and there was no you without simon riley, and if he couldn't understand that, you didn't think you would survive the homecoming.
so you were going to fuck simon riley until he understood the knot was tight, and it would never unravel.
"kitty, wait--"
but he couldn't stop you. you swallowed his words, moaning desperately against the mask, your hips chasing the warm buzz that was creeping up your chest and down your thighs, your toes clenching as you notched the tip of his cock right up against your clit and fucked yourself harder against the smooth fabric of his pants.
"kitty--fuckin' christ--"
you sobbed, squeezing the back of his neck as you soaked his pants. your hips stuttered, small little circles that you made as you tried to ride out the trickle of warmth that was covering you like a comforting, pleasurable wave. your body relaxed, and you sucked on his jaw through the mask, tasting the musk and cigarette smoke that lingered there.
"simon--p-please--"
he grunted, pressing on the back of your head to tuck your face into his neck. you sniffled, moody and emotional from coming so hard, and you shook your head.
"y'r not ready for it. not time yet."
"i am," you sounded like such a baby. a cock-drunk pretty little roommate that needed something so desperately, she was so scared of what she might do to have it. to have him. "i am, please--"
"luv--"
"it's not fair," you gasped, pulling back from him. you stared up at him, and he hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe the tears that gathered under your eyes. "it's not fair, why--why can't i--?"
he tsked, clicking his tongue as he got to his feet, and your eyes lowered as he cursed under his breath, adjusting his pants, and you felt a sliver of victory as you realize that you made simon cum in his pants like a teenager.
"i w-won't wait forever."
the air in the room changed immediately. it came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it, and you tensed against the couch as his head turned, snapping to look at you.
"wot? wot did y'just say?"
"nothing."
"look at me."
you grit your teeth as he leaned down and knocked you under the chin, forcing your head to tilt back.
"wot did you just say?"
"nothing," you repeated, firmer this time. his eyes narrowed, two black, dull eyes staring down at you. his gaze was intense, and it was meant to scare you, but simon could never scare you. deep down, you knew he would never hurt you, at least not physically.
emotionally, simon had your heart in his hands, and those hands were not made to nurture. they were made to make pretty roommates cum and to pull dirty triggers. but nowhere in that did it say they were made to love you. nowhere did it specify he would keep it safe. you had given it up, before you had even realized, and he was playing you like his favorite instrument.
but simon didn't know how to play music. and there was a part of you that knew nothing about this was in tune.
when he goes, he doesn't say goodbye. and when you cried, it echoed in an empty room.
you would not wait forever. i will not wait forever.
he will not wait forever.
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
Note
Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.
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Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.
However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.
Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.
As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.
Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.
To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.
‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.
‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.
You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.
‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.
‘I didn’t say any-‘
‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’
You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.
‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’
Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.
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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months
Text
nobody sees, nobody knows
Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.
Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader
Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?
Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.
Word Count | 3.3K
PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST
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There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 
Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 
There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 
Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 
 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 
“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 
“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 
You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 
You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.
“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 
“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 
“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 
“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 
“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 
You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 
*
You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 
There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 
“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 
He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 
He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 
“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 
“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, ��Where’s Sarah?” 
“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 
“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 
You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 
The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 
The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 
“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 
“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 
“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 
“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 
You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 
You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 
“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 
“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 
He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 
“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 
“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 
“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 
He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 
You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 
It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 
“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 
And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 
When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 
He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 
“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 
“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 
“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 
“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 
“Says who?” You pry. 
“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 
“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 
“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.
You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 
There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.
“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 
He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 
“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 
“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 
His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 
You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 
“It worked, didn’t it?” 
He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 
You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 
“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 
He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 
But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 
You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 
“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 
You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 
When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 
“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 
“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 
With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 
You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 
You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 
He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 
“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 
Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 
“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 
His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 
“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 
He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 
1K notes · View notes
dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months
Note
Okay so I absolutely ADORE 'The Bucket List' and was wondering if you would consider writing a 'what happens next' with Grace and Charles? Those two NEEEEEEEEED a happily ever after!
Pwetty pwease?
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Five Years Later || CL16
A/N: I never planned for Grace and Charles to be together, but they are each other’s support. Warnings: labour and delivery WC: 1.9k
The Bucket List || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments
“Maman, it’s time,” Charles rushed, a little breathless over the phone.
Pascale almost dropped the phone as she clambered out of bed and knocked on Arthur’s door. He had stayed the night to help entertain Angel who was asleep in Charles’ childhood room and he startled awake at the intrusion. “Get the car, it’s time.”
“It’s time?” Arthur echoed excitedly before rushing to get his car keys and wake up Angel. She didn’t seem too impressed to be woken up before dawn but she soon bounced excitedly when Arthur told her it was time to go.
“How is Grace doing?” Pascale asked Charles as she got herself ready to leave.
Charles looked at Grace who was pacing around his living room, one hand pressed against her lower back, her face pinched in pain, while the other hand cradled the swell of her belly.
“She’s doing amazing, but she’s eager for some pain relief.”
Many people thought the relationship between Charles and Grace was strange. They weren’t together, yet they were never far apart. They were like two broken branches grafted back into the same scarred tree. The parts that were missing could never be replaced, but they realised that their company was better together than being alone.
That was why she was the only one he could trust to be the surrogate mother.
Between all the medical procedures, Charles hadn’t really remembered that you froze your eggs to save them from being damaged by the chemo. The plan had been to use them when you were better, but when that didn’t happen Charles thought they would go unused. It was only a letter that arrived on the fifth anniversary of the procedure that reminded him, with an update of the egg's health status. It had taken a few more months before he plucked up the courage to talk to your parents about it and then ask Grace instead of a stranger.
“We’ll see you at the maternity ward,” Charles said with a wince as another contraction drew a pained groan from his friend. The retired world champion had known exhaustion, but after a night of supporting Grace to labour in his apartment he had a new appreciation for what it really meant.
Everything had been planned and prepared for this day so Charles was ready to bring home his little boy. His room had been painted a pale pastel blue and was decorated with picture frames so he would always recognise your face as his mother watching over him. A white sleigh cot was set up against one wall with the best baby monitor money could buy. Opposite it sat a set of drawers that held more baby clothes than he could ever need and beside it was a fully stocked changing table with newborn nappies stacked high.
Charles grabbed the hospital bag from the table and slung it over his shoulder before going to Grace. He grabbed her phone and drink bottle from the coffee table and turned off the calming piano music she had been listening to before helping her swollen feet into her slippers. “Ready?” he asked softly as he offered his elbow to keep her steady.
“Mhmm,” was all she could muster.
Though he had healed a lot in the years that had passed, more so once meeting Angel and Grace, there was still a pain in his joy when he thought that it should have been you carrying his child. Charles liked to think that he still felt you there with him through all of it, the milestones and scans, and that it wasn’t all in his head.
There was a bowl of cool water that Charles had been using to wash the sweat from Grace’s forehead but he didn’t bother to tidy it up before he left, same with the half empty plate of snacks she had tried to eat between contractions. His sole focus was on getting Grace to the hospital as quickly and comfortably as possible.
Charles knew you would have been proud of the effort he went to in learning everything about pregnancy and newborns. It felt like he had bought every book and watched every youtube video, as well as attending the local Antenatal Class. He admitted it was hard to attend the class when everywhere he looked were happy couples excited for their first child. Grace had smiled and squeezed his hand, as always, knowing exactly how he was feeling.
“Chosen his name yet?” Grace asked as she eased into the front seat slowly, straining to fit the belt around her large belly.
“I’ll know when I look at him,” he said with a shake of his head. He had a dozen names that he liked but he wanted something that suited him so he would wait a few hours more before deciding. “It has to feel right, you know?”
Grace gripped the door handle and the edge of the seat as another contraction began. Her eyes watered and her deep breaths shuddered for a minute until it passed and she sighed with relief. “Angel was meant to be Frangelica, but when she was born it just didn’t match.”
Charles laughed as he tried to picture Angelique with any other name. No, Angel suited her just right because she had saved him the day they met.
The streets were quiet as he took the turns slow and smooth, winding his way through the city that was barely beginning to wake as dawn approached. Thankfully the hospital was already expecting him and they had a wheelchair ready as he pulled up.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Charles promised before parking the car and rushing up to the maternity ward. He skidded to a stop outside the only door with voices and Grace lay on the bed in a gown.
“I’m sorry, you’re too far along for pain relief,” the midwife said as she draped the sheet back down. “Baby is already starting to crown. You have done so well, mama.”
“Oh, I’m not the mother,” she said as Charles stepped into the room, casually clearing the situation up with a smile. “I’m a surrogate for Charles.”
There had been a comment made by the media early on in the pregnancy when news broke, that Grace would try to be the mother once the baby was born. It would have been a lie to say Charles didn’t think about that possibility, but Grace had her child with the love of her life, Gabriel, and had long decided she would never have a child with another man - she felt it would be a betrayal to their memory. This child was yours and Charles, and your memory would live on through her.
“That’s beautiful,” the midwife said with a reassuring smile as she turned her attention to Charles. “There’s a spare gown in the bathroom, you can change into that if you want to have skin to skin bonding once baby is born.”
Charles had read that skin to skin contact helped newborns bond with their parents and he grinned as he stepped into the bathroom. He had never changed so fast as he heard Grace’s pained cry but the midwife was calm and talking gently as she morphed the bed to a seated position.
“You are doing so well, Grace. You might feel the urge to push with the next contractions, just do what feels natural, okay, hun,” the midwife, Ann, as her name tag read, encouraged. “I’m just going to hit the call button but there is nothing to worry about, it’s just to have an extra set of hands because it looks like the little one is making a quick arrival.”
Charles wasn’t even aware that Grace’s gown had fallen away until he saw her stomach tighten around the undeniable shape of a small body and she clenched her teeth together, dipping her chin down with a guttural cry. He had to remember to breathe as the midwife encouraged Grace to push, then rest.
“Okay, this is the one, we need one last big push,” Ann guided. “I know you’re tired but you can do this.”
Grace’s hand nearly broke Charles’ as she squeezed with the push and then the little boy was there. An exhilarated gasp escaped Charles as he saw his son lifted upright, his face purple before he took his first gulping of air and rattled out a cry after filling his lungs. Colour quickly returned to his cheeks and another midwife wrapped him in a warm towel.
“My boy,” Charles laughed as tears rolled freely down his cheeks and he looked at Grace. “Thank you.”
“I would say anytime, but-” she choked out a laugh and settled back into the pillows before another contraction began.
“What’s that?” Charles asked. He had a pair of scissors in his hand that another midwife had given him to cut the cord, but suddenly he panicked thinking there was a twin.
“Just the placenta being birthed,” Ann assured him, a smile teasing her lips like she was often asked the question with the same worried tone by fathers. “You can cut now, just here.”
Charles’ steadied his hand and found he underestimated how tough the cord would be, before gripping the scissors tighter and snipping through. “Can I…hold him?”
There was a bustle of activity as the mother midwife and a nurse made Grace comfortable, but Charles was fully focused on the tiny bundle that Ann carried towards him. “Take a seat, papa.”
Charles grinned at the new title and took a seat, opening the gown over his chest so she could place his son onto the warmth his body offered. Already, there were tufts of dark hair on his head and Charles brushed his fingers over it feeling how soft they were. His son blinked at the touch, squirming against the lights before settling against Charles’ chest and looking up.
Your eyes. Those were your eyes, set above Charles’ nose. Those were Charles’ dimples appearing on his cheeks beside your lips. A brilliant balance of his and your features wrapped up in a baby born to be loved. His lips parted silently, as if he were experiencing the same sense of awe that Charles did. It was the same look he had seen on your face as you watched the dawn rise and the light chase away the dark when you couldn’t sleep.
“Lucas,” he murmured as he delicately stroked his cheek and stared in amazement at the wonder he held. Lucas, it had been one name he liked because it meant bringer of light. It felt as if the flaking chips from his rusty heart were falling away with each second he held his son, and beneath the damage and decay it shined anew.
“It’s perfect,” Grace agreed with a tired smile.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Enjoy this moment, Charles.” She seemed wistful for a second. “Before you know it they are walking, then running, and there’s no catching them then. Promise me you’ll enjoy this moment.”
Of all the people, he didn’t need reminding of how cruel time could be. But he had learned how to cherish the time he had, it was the last and the hardest lesson you had taught him.
“I promise.” His promise was to Grace, his promise was to Lucas, and his promise was to you. He wouldn’t waste a second of his life, not now that he had the most precious gift to live for.
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theoldsports · 5 months
Text
Matrimony
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words
SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.
THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.
The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.
Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.
She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?
[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.
If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.
[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.
He looked at me.
The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.
Darling,
Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.
And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.
C.B.S.
He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.
[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.
Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.
The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.
[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.
Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.
She sighed. For better or worse.
[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.
She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.
Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.
She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.
Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.
“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”
“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.
“It’s… yeah, but—“
“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“
“I don’t wanna ruin today—“
“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.
“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.
“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.
“What?”
Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”
“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”
“So?”
“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.
“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”
[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”
Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.
“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”
“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.
[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.
After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.
[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.
Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.
Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.
[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.
I’ve got you.
When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.
I’ve got you.
Everything had to be lovely.
The wedding had to be lovely.
“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.
[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.
The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.
Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.
He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.
[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?
Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.
I’ve got you.
What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.
Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.
“I didn’t.”
“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.
“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”
“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.
The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.
The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.
What happened to I’ve got you.
“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.
“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”
[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.
“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.
He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.
Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.
Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.
“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.
Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.
Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.
I’ve got you.
“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.
“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”
As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.
“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”
Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.
Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.
[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?
[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.
“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.
“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.
“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”
“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.
“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?
[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.
“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”
[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”
“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?
“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”
“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Odd topic choice.”
“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”
“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.
“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“
“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.
If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.
[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.
“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.
Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.
“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.
“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.
“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”
Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.
[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”
Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”
There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.
“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.
Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.
[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.
Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.
“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.
“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.
Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.
[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.
“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”
“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.
Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”
She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.
“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”
[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.
“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.
“It’s adequate?”
“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”
“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”
“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”
Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.
“What?”
“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.
Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.
The sex, however, was anything but transactional.
By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.
Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.
[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.
Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.
She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.
Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.
This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.
“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.
“I love you too.”
It was almost the truth.
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as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.
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leviathanspain · 6 months
Note
hi 🖤 idk if this is a good request? lol but i’d really like to read the ways carmen prefers to be with reader than claire/noticing she’s THE one and not the other way round, maybe there was a little bit of an overlap??? not necessarily cheating but- and how sugar or richie or syd notice that they are endgame
i wanna be yours
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carmy berzatto x reader
synopsis: enemies to lovers, carmy likes the attitude he’s developed when he’s around you, far more than being with his girlfriend
part 2
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you knew he didn’t like you.
richie had hired you, after you had walked in with a pile of resumes, dropping off five copies of yours before walking off. he didn’t even get a word in, admiring your style of exiting instead.
he had called you not even an hour later and asked when you could start.
and here you were, a week into waitressing at the bear.
it was supposed to be this prestigious new restaurant opened by some hotshot chef. but you couldn’t be quite sure, chicago had just recently become your home. but quickly you learned the dynamics, except for him, who wouldn’t look you in the eye, let alone talk to him.
“y/n!” richie slammed a hand on the door, swinging it open, “third time calling, where is she?” he looked around in the kitchen, eyes searching for you.
richie looked at carm, who was just finishing a conversation with sydney, “yo cousin! have you seen your employee? her shift started twenty minutes ago!” his shouts drew eyes from the rest of the kitchen staff and carmy turned, sighing slightly as he walked up to richie.
“she’s your employee, cousin. you hired her, you deal with it.” his lip twitched up slightly and richie sighed, throwing his hands up, “it’s shot to hell, all of it!” he slammed another hand on the door and back to the front of house.
suddenly, you barreled through the kitchen’s back door, a bag on your shoulder, impossibly stuffed with belongings as you hurried to the locker room. carmy sighed with annoyance upon seeing you. he turned back around and tried to find something to busy himself with.
“hey boss,” you looked at carmy, who didn’t look up from his cutting, “sorry i’m late there was some-“ you had prepared an excuse! carmy didn’t say anything just shook his head, “don’t wanna hear it, go talk to richie.”
you felt your cheeks burn red with embarrassment as you bowed your head, shuffling past him and out of the kitchen.
“fucking finally! i was beginning to think you thought this shit was optional.” richie spat, throwing a towel at you, “start wiping down the tables for dinner.” you sighed, taking the towel off your chest, where it landed and stuck, and threw it onto a table.
for a moment, you watched as you wiped the table, before looking over at richie, who had his brows furrowed over the cash drawer.
“why does he hate me?” you had an arm on the counter, lips pouted slightly.
richie sighed, knowing exactly who you were asking about. “carmy’s just carmy.” you groaned loudly, “that’s all anyone ever says. it’s just an excuse for him to act like an asshole.”
richie shrugged, “that’s all i got. forget about it and just keep scrubbing, we don’t pay you for nothing, sweetie.”
you blew a breath out, doing just as he said.
“can you please tell carmy that i need friday off?” you hung onto richie’s arm, pulling him as he tried to run away from you earlier. you had been talking his ear off all day about your trip, and how you’ve been needing this.
richie pulled his arm back and held his hands up, “i’ll see what i can do. no promises though, friday night and it’s just me and you up here? we’ll see.” he tried to be realistic in a nice way, although he knew there was no way in hell you’d be able to get that day off.
“we’ll see isn’t good enough, rich. i really, really need this.” you had clasped your hands together to further express your desperation, and richie groaned, “ask him yourself then! im sick of having to be the bridge between you two.”
you blinked, “maybe if i knew why carmy hated me, then maybe i’d do something about it. but fine!” you walked over to the kitchen door, pushing it open. inside, you found the kitchen staff cleaning up. you refreshed your greeting with them before asking about carmy. sydney had directed you to the office, where only a dim light was the indicator that he was in there.
it took you a moment to build up the courage to knock, but the door swung open before your hand even reached it. carmy stood there, nostrils flared as if he had just taken a deep breathe, redness around his eyes, exhibiting his exhaustion.
there was genuine surprise on his face to see you, and you had to withhold a breath, “hey boss.” his blue eyes locked onto yours for a mere second before they floated away, resting somewhere on the wall behind you.
“what’s up?” his voice raised the question and you nodded, “right- i already talked to richie and he told me to ask you, and i don’t know if you’ll even say yes-“
“get to the point.” of course, you should’ve known by his fingers tapping against the door that he was getting impatient. he was important, and constantly busy, he didn’t have time for you or-
“i need friday off.” you breathed, feeling the release of your tension in your shoulders. you almost heaved just as he answered, unsure of what he would say.
“yeah, i guess that’s fine.” he shrugged slightly before clearing his throat. he closed his eyes slightly as your face lit up, “really? thank you, boss. i-“
“can i get past?” carmy interrupted your words and stared at the door, your body halfway covering it. “yeah- of course.” you scooted further into the office as carmy pulled on the doorknob. you felt the edge of the door tap your back, and you shuddered as it swung back and slammed as he left.
blowing out a breathe, you opened the door, eyes accidentally catching carmy’s, who was standing near the kitchen door. you looked away first, still reeling from the interaction in the office. as much grace as you’ve been giving him, it was getting exhausting having to hold yourself back.
“why is he so-“ you struggled for the words to describe your boss, especially to richie. you were frustrated, carmy’s constant dismissal of you, even when you were asking for something that would affect him and his workday, he didn’t care!
“y/n, it’s just cousin. he’s harmless, don’t worry about anything. you got the day off?” richie turned to look at you, your mouth still in a pout, but you nodded nonetheless, “yeah i did.”
“that’s good! just be happy you got it off, hmm?” he tried to be a mediator, tried to be nice and hear you out, but after hearing the two of you express your anguish over the other, day after day, he was getting sick of it. “why’d you ask for it off again? i thought you didn’t have a life.”
you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stared at the ground for a moment, “that’s true. it’s my father’s- was, my father’s birthday.” you laughed slightly, pausing before speaking again, “he grew up here, going to the local theater with his father for his birthday every year. we’d make family trips every year to come back to chicago, watch movies with him in the same theater and share a slice of cake. after he passed, my sister and i were the only ones who did it for a while, but then she got married and suddenly, it was just me.” you shrugged, “and then i moved to chicago permanently, into the same house that my father lived in. and i got a job here.” you smiled weakly, “yeah.”
richie nodded, “yeah.” matching your tone of voice. he didn’t want to speak, letting himself sit with that. you were nice enough, a good kid, and he saw something in you, a little spark just wanting to be ignited fully. he didn’t know what it would take, but it seemed like you didn’t either.
carmy hadn’t realized that he had eavesdropped the entire conversation between you and richie until richie came into the kitchen, slamming the door against carmy, who had stood there, frozen, captivated by your story.
“cousin- get the hell out of the way!” richie barely glanced at carmy, too in a rush to even think to slow down.
carmy looked down at the door as he pushed the door open, out into the dining room. he looked up to see you wiping down the counters. you had a wet rag under your hand, and you were lost in thought as your hand moved in a circular, repetitive motion. you didn’t even notice him as he inched closer, unsure of what he was going to say when you noticed him.
“hey.” carmy realized he was speaking, and as you looked up, your attention. you couldn’t help but smile, this was the first time that you had seen him so still, and so in thought.
“hey.” you returned his greeting, letting the rag go, you turned your full attention to him. he laughed nervously and that made you smile even more. it was odd, how he changed so suddenly with you.
you raised an eyebrow, “is there something wrong?” he hadn’t said anything else, just staring in thought.
he shook his head, and returned himself to the kitchen.
“weird.” you exhaled, watching as the door swung shut behind him. how could carmy go from being the biggest asshole to you, to randomly greeting you then going silent.
you’d talk to richie about it later, but for now you had work to finish.
“claire.” carmy looked surprised to see his girlfriend. it was friday, and normally she stopped by on saturdays. “i thought you worked on fridays.” he pulled her into the office and claire shrugged, “i got off early, just to come see you.”
carmy nodded, “yeah. yeah.” claire raised an eyebrow at him, “i cant leave early tho. y/n asked for the day off and i didn’t realize how much she does so-“ he cut himself off watching as claire’s expression soured slightly.
carmy sighed, “i know- but i’m her boss, im going to have to talk to her eventually.” claire rolled her eyes, “god, i-“ she cut herself off and stood up, “that’s fine, carmen. i understand, really.” her tone sounded irritated as she opened the door. carmy found himself standing to rush after her, but stopped himself.
had he really made a judgement on you based on an experience claire had with you in grade school? so far, you hadn’t mentioned claire to be someone of the past, and carmy had wondered why.
carmy blinked, suddenly getting the urge to rush after claire. but as she walked right out the front door, carmy realized that he had been too late. normally, the guilt would set right in, but as he stared out into the dining room, he could imagine you standing at the counter, eyes shying away from his.
saturday had been a rough start for you. you had spent the whole night before, sobbing at the movie theater. your eyes had puffed up so much that you had to go home, barely able to see the movie through your tears. this time of year was rough for you, especially since your family hardly called. your father had been the glue to hold all your differences together, but it seemed not to have a lasting affect.
when you had arrived late to work, yet again, you had expected carmy to give you the silent treatment, or possibly even yell, but he hadn’t said anything.
except,
“i’m sorry about your dad.” he had looked down at the floor when he said it. you stared at him, shocked that he said anything to you besides the usual, and that he knew about your father.
“how long as it been?” more. he was talking more to you, “uhh-“ you couldn’t contain yourself, “two years. but it feels like-“
“yesterday. yeah i know.” he finished your sentence. “i lost my dad too. a while ago.” he shook his head, as if shaking the feeling that came along with it.
you nodded, holding a small smile that carmy had actually made conversation with you.
“thank you. and im sorry for your loss as well.” you brushed past him, still reeling.
months passed, changing things with time, including carmen.
not only had he become a better boss, but you could consider him a friend. transitioning to kitchen staff had made that happen, including moments that made you think of him as more.
there was no doubt of the chemistry you had with him. everyone noticed it, and sydney had half the mind to encourage it.
“you work so well together! he needs something and you’re there with it! it’s actually insane, like did you guys come from the same planet?” her voice got a little high as she rambled on and you laughed, “what planet would that be, syd?”
she shrugged, “something of greatness. i mean, he’s even said it himself-“
you held up a hand, ending her little ramble right then and there, “sydney. i am not anything like the world renowned chef that runs this place. im not even a sous! i was waiting tables just a month ago.” your hand pointed out to the dining room and sydney threw her hands up, “that’s exactly my point!”
you rolled your eyes, “please stop.” you couldn’t hear her anymore, not while carmy was just minutes from rounding the corner.
“want one?” carmy had noticed you were gone. the rush was starting to slow and you had decided to take a break, not knowing he would follow. there was a cigarette hanging in his mouth glumly, a lighter being tossed between his hands.
“i don’t really smoke.” you answered earnestly. carmy brought the lighter up to his mouth, taking a moment to light it. he inhaled, and you caught yourself staring at him as he exhaled.
“you don’t really?” he sat down, closer than he probably realized. you turned to look at him, eyes hooding as they focused on his cigarette. “mhm.” you answered, leaning a cheek on your hand.
you were reaching out before you realized, fingers wrapping around the cigarette, pulling it from his mouth and into yours.
carmy watched you with surprised eyes, as you took a long, deep drag. you exhaled it, hand outstretched to return it. he took it, smiling as he chuckled.
“i’m quitting.” you admitted. looking at carmy, waiting for him to react. he didn’t, and you laughed, “did you hear me, carmen?”
carmy took another drag, pulling out the cigarette to flick it against the concrete step, “no you’re not.”
“i am- i already talked to richie and syd-“ you found yourself trying to justify your decision until he raised his voice, “no you’re not! i said no!”
you flinched, not used to having him scream directly in your face. he didn’t need to, and so he never did.
until now.
your ears were still ringing. you had been staring at carmy’s side profile for five minutes, as he stared ahead in silence.
finally, “why not?” the pure shock had kept you quiet, but you had built up emotion, and your voice couldn’t help cracking.
carmy shrugged, “just don’t. just give me time, alright.”
your frustration grew with his vague answer. he was refusing your resignation, and now he was refusing to tell you why?
carmy panted quietly. he had been in the office for more than twenty minutes, watching as he phone buzzed with call after phone call from claire.
he couldn’t pick up, not when his head was full with thoughts of you. he knew it was wrong, he knew that claire should be the only girl on his mind, but she wasn’t and he felt horrible.
he stared at the phone, swallowing thickly as he picked up the phone, opening a desk drawer and tossing it in.
ever since he had found out that you had no idea who his girlfriend was, and that her entire reasoning to dislike you had been a lie, it had strained his relationship. but claire had been close to catching onto his disillusionment, and it seemed like she reached it.
he opened the office door, breathing in deeply as he saw you in the kitchen, eyes red rimmed but still diligently at work.
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lavendertom · 7 months
Text
The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 4
Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6
wc: 3.1k
warnings: very brief mention of garret’s kidnapping, fluff, some sad moments (mike deserves happiness 😞) (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)
summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.
surprise! part 4 is here early for 100 followers, so in turn there may be a few more errors than usual 🥹🫶 appreciate all of you so much, and very happy reading!
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Monday came faster than you’d expected as you walked over to Abby and Mike’s house, preparing yourself for another night shift of babysitting. You were surprised Abby was able to make it a day without seeing you or finding a way to somehow be in your vicinity. She’d become quite clingy, in the best way possible. More often than not, she just wanted you to be there with her, even if that meant finishing up assignments while she drew.
You opened the door to hear the sound of muffled arguing between the siblings. As you placed your backpack down by the dining table, you caught the slightest glimpse of Mike walking down the hall to Abby’s room. Abby was strung across his shoulder, the young girl pulling on his shirt as she wore Mike’s security vest.
“Mike! Let me come with you! Please!” Abby whined as she tried to latch onto the door frame. Before you could attempt to see what was happening, the door slammed shut and Mike walked out with his vest in hand.
“Everything okay?” you asked, trying to read the situation. He stopped for a moment, not knowing how long you’d been there and how much of the situation you saw or heard.
“Everything’s fine. She’s all yours.” he huffed as he walked past you.
“You sure?”
“Don’t worry about it, Y/n.” he was grabbing his bag and keys, still visibly upset about whatever had happened. “See you tonight.”
The door shut quickly as he left the house, not giving you a chance to say anything else back. You stood for a moment, still confused about what you had just walked into, until the sounds of muffled crying broke the silence. You quietly made your way to Abby’s room. As you got closer, the sounds grew louder. You gently knocked on the door.
“Hey Abs. It’s Y/n/n. Can I come in please?” you said in a gentle voice.
You heard the patter of small footsteps as she made her way to the door. It slowly opened and Abby scurried back to the blanket fort in the corner of the room. The room was full of drawings tapped over ever surface, including many the two of you had done together over the past 2 months. It had everything a girl Abby’s age could ever want, down to the smallest details.
“You okay Abs?” you stepped in slowly, giving her space.
“Mike hates me Y/n.” she said.
“Why do you think Mike hates you?”
“He’s always at work. He never wants to draw with me anymore. He is never at home anymore Y/n.” she started sniffling again.
You grabbed a golden teddy bear from her bed, looking down at it as you approached the blanket fort. It had a bow and top hat, you instantly knew where it was from and who got it for Abby.
“Mike would never hate you Abs. You know how much you love Mike? He loves you a million more times than that.” you could see her shuffling in the fort, turning away from the opening. You sat down in front of the opening to get down to her level.
“If he loved me he would let me come to work with him.” she mumbled.
“I know you love your brother Abby, but he is just really busy right now. That doesn’t mean he hates you or he doesn’t want to play with you anymore. He just has a lot of work to do right now.” you set down the golden teddy bear in the entrance of the fort and lightly tapped Abby’s shoulder. “I think Fredbear wants a hug.”
She slowly turned around and looked down at the bear that sat in front of her. She looked down at the bear, then up at you who sat crisscross on the floor smiling softly at her.
“Who got you this bear Abs?”
“Mike.” she said as quiet as a mouse.
“And what about everything else in your room?”
“Mike.” she said quietly again.
“He cares about you so much more than you think Abs. He works a lot so he can get you all of these awesome toys and art supplies. He loves you more than anything in the world.” you were patting the top of the hat on the bear.
Abby grabbed the bear swiftly and held it in her arms. After a moment she snuck her way out of the fort and practically jumped on you, giving you a hug now too.
“Promise me you’ll give your brother a hug just like this when he’s home again?” you said as the young girl wouldn’t let go of you.
“I promise Y/n.” you could tell she was smiling in the way her voice sounded. “I love you, Y/n.”
She had never said that to you before. After just under two months of babysitting, after building such a strong bond with the girl in such little time, it came both as a shock and comfort. You could feel tears start welling in your eyes, smiling bigger than ever before. You knew how hard it was for the girl to trust people and build relationships with people her age. You were pleasantly surprised at how quickly she warmed up to you after Mike warned you it might take a while. You didn’t want Abby to ever feel this way again, you wanted to make sure she knew she was loved and cared for. Just like she loves and cares for Mike, and now you.
“I love you too Abs.” you responded, trying your best to hold it together. She finally pulled away from you, still holding the bear in her hands.
“Can we play now?” she said, already gathering a pile of plush animals and dolls from her blanket fort. You could not help but chuckle at this, it was right on character for her to be back to her happy and energetic self.
“Of course Abs.” you said with a smile.
“Here is your food Mr. Panda.” Abby said giggling, handing over a paper plate stolen from the kitchen with pieces of paper colored to be pieces of food on top of it.
“Thank you Mr. Chef, this is quite the delicious meal.” you said, attempting to sound like a posh British business man, making Abby laugh even more. “Wait, why is there a toad in my meal?!”
“I pranked you!” she shouted laughing even harder.
“Ew! I am leaving this establishment!” you said, keeping up your accent, throwing the plate back at her as you took your panda bear, pretending to make it walk away.
“Let’s do it again!” this was probably the 100th time she’d said this. While it was the best feeling seeing her laugh and have fun, the same pranks over and over again get boring after about 5 times.
“I don’t know Abs, it’s getting kind of late.” it was almost 10pm and you knew she was technically supposed to be asleep by 9:30 per Mike’s rules.
“Please Y/n!” you thought for a moment before speaking.
“How about this, you go get ready for bed and we can hang out in your little fort until you get sleepy.”
“Like a sleepover?” she said, almost jumping from joy.
“Just like a sleepover.” you said smiling.
“Okay!” she ran to grab her pajamas and brush her teeth. Once she returned she pulled your arm right into the fort. She pulled a blanket over her legs as she sat down and gave you the spare one that was left.
“Let’s tell each other our biggest secrets.” Abby said immediately after you sat down, a mischievous grin on her face. Wow, this girl really doesn’t take a break. “You go first Y/n.”
“Wow, thanks Abby.” you said hesitantly, not knowing what kind of information the girl was trying to get out of you. “Hmm… okay. My biggest secret is I actually really hate cake.”
“Y/n, that’s a lame secret. And I know you’re lying.” she said, extremely unamused.
“How do you know I’m lying!” you said, pretending to be annoyed, softly smiling at her. “Okay fine then, what’s your biggest secret?”
“Mike has a crush on you.”
“What?” you said, your smiling dropping, jaw hanging open.
“Yeah, he has a hugeee crush on you Y/n.”
“Th- that’s really funny Abs.” you nervously laughed, trying to save yourself from the extremely shocked and obvious reaction you had at first.
“I’m not lying Y/n.” she was dead serious.
You sat there for a moment, still nervously laughing until you realized she was being so serious. You could feel your face starting to burn up out of both embarrassment and shock of the confession she had just made. Memories of her saying you’d be a great princess for Mike flashed into your mind. She definitely told him about the situation the next day, and somehow, like she always does, got the information out of him. You weren’t sure what to do next until she made the decision for you.
“Do you have a crush on Mike?” she was clearly picking up on your reaction.
“Um, well, I mean-“
“Just say it Y/n.”
“Okay fine, maybe I do have a crush on Mike.”
“I knew it! Are you going to get married to Mike?”
“Abs slow down!” you said covering your face with your hands.
“I am so happy you have a crush on Mike!”
“You aren’t at all grossed out by this? Shouldn’t you be saying something about us having cooties?” you knew at her age you did not feel this way about crushes, she was way too excited about this.
“No, I think you guys would be perfect for each other.” she was smiling and giggling to herself.
“Well,” there’s no point holding any of this in anymore, she already knows too much. “Maybe I feel the same way about it.”
“I know. I can’t wait for you to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Abs, you know you can’t tell Mike about this, right? This is my biggest secret.” you said, now realizing you had to warn the girl based off her inability to keep other people’s secrets.
“You said hating cake was your secret.”
“Abby.” you laughed and playfully pushed her shoulder.
“Okay I promise I won’t tell Mike if you promise to tell him you have a crush on him.” she began grinning mischievously again.
“Abby you are something else.” you were laughing and shaking your head. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed now.”
“Fine.” she groaned, “Only because you told me about your crush on Mike.”
You attempted to get up, but she stopped you.
“Can we sleep in here?” you noticed she didn’t say I but she said we.
“You know what, why not.” you smiled.
You stepped out to shut off the lights, noticing the fort had a glow to it from christmas lights strung all around it. You grabbed a pillow from Abby’s bed for her to use and went back to the fort. She already had her posse of stuffed animals gathered around her, pulling her blanket up until only her head was poking out of it. You pulled the extra blanket and laid next to her. The fort was small for someone your age to be laying down in, but you made do for her.
“I never want you to leave our house again Y/n.” Abby said softly as she laid her head on your shoulder. “I wish we could have a sleepover every night.”
“I do too, Abs.” you said as you looked up to the shapes on the blankets above your head. You didn’t realize she quickly fell asleep after her last comment, and you fell asleep quickly after. You were content hoping you made an impact on her tonight and also content knowing there was a chance Mike felt the same way you did. There was a chance you could be there for Abby forever, the chance that one day you’d never have to leave them again in the morning.
The front door opened quietly in the early hours of the morning as Mike returned home from another grueling night shift. This shift was especially difficult. It was a long night, he didn’t get as much sleep as he wanted to, and the dread of coming home to confront both Y/n and Abby over the earlier situation was in his mind constantly. He didn’t want to mess up for either of them and it sure felt like he had. He didn’t want to disappoint his girls.
“Hey Y/n.” he said quietly as he set down his things, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he didn’t hear a response back he expected you to be asleep, but when he went to look for you in your usual spot on the couch, you weren’t there. He panicked for a moment, flashbacks of Garrett going missing played in his mind. He quickly made his way to Abby’s room, trying his best not to let the floorboards creek on his way there. When he opened the door and caught a glimpse of the two of you fast asleep in the blanket fort, he felt relief wash over him.
He stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to wake up either of you. When he approached the opening of the fort, he saw the way Abby’s head leaned on your shoulder, and the way yours leaned against her head. The smallest of smiles formed on his face.
He felt forever indebted to you for giving Abby the childhood memories she deserved. He knew Abby loved him, but he never felt like he was able to do enough. He was never able to be anything more than a brother to Abby. You knew which activities she liked, how to play with her, and exactly how she liked her spaghetti cooked. He knew deep down inside that Abby deserved you in her life, but he didn’t feel like he deserved you at all. You didn’t deserve to be pulled into a situation like this, yet you gave it your all. He paid you only when he could, and you never complained. Not once. No matter how stressful school was, you never called off. You pushed through for Abby. But Mike didn’t realize you pushed through it for him as well.
He poked his head through the entrance of the fort just enough to place a light kiss on Abby’s forehead. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over Abby and placed the lightest, most gentle kiss on the top of your head. He slowly took his head out of the fort, and sat for a minute on the floor.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered so quietly. Only the sound of the girls quiet breaths filled the room, then he got up quietly, and went to bed. He didn’t get anymore sleep that night.
7am came slower than ever as Mike sat in his bed. He had nothing to look at above him as he removed his “Nebraska” poster a few days after starting the new night job, bringing it to work instead. He brought it there to distract him instead. He got out of bed, and went over to Abby’s room to find the two of you still asleep. He felt bad having to wake you guys up, but he had to do it.
“Hey Abs, it’s time to get ready for school.” he gently shook her shoulder. “Come on, get up.”
She slowly woke up, groaning, asking for 5 more minutes. She got up, immediately giving Mike a biggest hug. She wasn’t going to forget her promise she made the night before. Mike was surprised by the gesture after yesterdays altercation, but he didn’t think much of it.
From all the stirring, you also slowly woke up, not entirely remembering what happened last night and how you ended up in Abby’s fort. When you finally fully woke up, the memories came flooding back. “Mike has a crush on you.” Suddenly it felt awkward for you.
“Morning Y/n.” he said as he held part of the opening open for Abby to get out and start getting ready.
“Sorry for staying longer than usual.” you rubbed your face trying to wake yourself up and hide the redness in your face.
“Y/n. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” he quickly looked over his shoulder towards the door, listening for any indication Abby was nearby. “Listen, Y/n, do you think you can come over an hour early tonight?” he said in a whisper.
“Yeah, what’s up?” you said, a confused look on your face.
“I don’t want Abby to know. Just wanted to talk to you for a bit.” he was avoiding your eyes, still holding the blanket open from the fort. “Nothing bad. I just don’t want Abby knowing you’ll be here early, kind of hard to talk to anyone when she’s around.”
“Yeah, yeah I can do that.” you said, getting out of the fort, now standing in front of him.
“I’ll distract her before you get here.”
“Okay, sounds good.” you said with a tight lipped smile.
“Thanks, Y/n.”
“Anytime.”
You both stood there for another second, making eye contact again, until you looked away quickly.
“I’m gonna go now, have a few classes today.”
“Right. Sorry for keeping you long.”
“You told me not to apologize, now it’s my turn to tell you not to.” you said with an airy chuckle.
“See you later Y/n.”
You made your way towards Abby’s door to leave, bumping into her on the way out. She gave you an extremely knowing glare after noticing you had been talking to Mike, alone, in her room just moments before.
“See you guys tonight.” you waved, exiting the room. Mike followed you out. When you reached the front door, he opened it for you, and waited there as you left. He waited there, like he always does, making sure you cross the street safely. This time he waited until you opened the door to your own house, and for the first time, you both noticed the other.
Had he not stayed until you opened your own door, he wouldn’t have known you turn around every time you go home, hoping you’d see him one last time. Had he not stayed, you wouldn’t have known how he waits every single time, no matter how tired he is, just to make sure you get home safely. And so he doesn’t have to keep you out of his sight for any longer than he has to.
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jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)
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