#(if anybody knows anything more about that book please let me know!)

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

Rainbear!!!!!!!!! by Never Angeline Nørth

goodreads

Rainbear!!!!!!!!! is the story of a woman who lives in a coffee shop where she makes a job out of loving people while inventing worlds in her dreams. The coffee shop is staffed by a barista-cum-border-guard who people show up to stab every week. Later, the narrative channels 18th century Jewish folktales as she is told a bedtime story about two queer lovers, who are themselves then told a dreamlike, quasi-erotic tale of a pagan prophet without a home. In this way, narratives eat each other and turn inside out as stories are found within stories and new adventures are told by unexpected rainbow bears that are also mountains and pages of journals are found papered inside the nests of vomitbirds.

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but it sounds really interesting, I'm hoping to check it out sometime.

#rainbear!!!!!!!!! #never angeline nørth #never angeline north #polls #trans books #trans lit #trans literature #lgbt books #lgbt lit #lgbt literature #to tag #(if anybody knows anything more about that book please let me know!) #to read

[dustydaddyyy]

sweetheart | joel miller x fem! reader

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.

a/n: basically just porn with some plot that started at 2k and ended up becoming 13k. enjoy these 13k of unhinged depravity :)

warnings: (18+) SMUT (extended warning are under the cut), age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 32), swearing, mentions and consumption of alcohol, use of petnames (mostly sweetheart and one darling), probably inaccurate descriptions of the southern US, reader's mom is kind of annoying, reader kind of seduces joel (ish), neighbor!joel (is this a warning?) single dad! joel (what about this one?), reader babysits Sarah a few times

extended warnings: smut, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (pls in the name of the lord practice safe sex people), some (relatively tame) dry humping, couch sex, definitely some praise kink (we're moving on), for sure some soft!dom!joel, but also a pinch of dom!reader (👀), a lil cockwarming, maybe like a bit of a breeding kink if you really, really squint and i think that's it! please let me know if i've missed any. no use of y/n in this fic.

"Is this really how you're going to be spending your entire holiday?"

You bite back a groan as you look at your mom from where you'd been laying down on the lounge chair in the garden, book dropping from in front of your face so you can peer at her from behind your sunglasses.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask her, and she shrugs as she continues to water her rhododendrons.

"You've been home a week now," she tells you pointedly, "And you've sat more in that chair than I have all year,"

"I'm on break," you say matter of factly, "That's kind of the point," Your mum lets out a hum as she continues watering her flowers, which you ignore as you bring your book back up in front of your face. 

It's hot out in the Texas sun, almost too hot, but having come from the constant cold and rain in Seattle, you find yourself not caring too much as you bask in the sunlight. You're not wearing much, dressed only in a bikini top and pair of old shorts, that are maybe a touch too snug, but survived your parents' move from Galveston. They'd moved to Austin at the end of last summer for your father's new job. You hadn't been to the new house over Christmas, your parents having come up to visit Seattle for the holidays, instead. Austin and Galveston weren't such different cities, it was all still Texas, but the one thing you found yourself desperately missing, especially now in the heat, was the ocean.

Somewhere in one of the neighbouring gardens, the sound of a lawnmower being turned on fills the air. You ignore it, putting down your book for a second instead and watching as your mother shuffles over to the flowers lining the wooden fence which separates your neighbour's garden from yours.

"I'm getting a drink," you declare, swinging your legs over the side of the sun lounger, "Can I get you anything, Mom?"

"I'm alright," your mom says with a wave of your hand, and you nod, before turning on your heel and going inside to get your drink, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. The house is delightfully cool as you open the screen door. On your way to the kitchen you pass the living room, finding your dad passed out on the couch, fan on full blast and TV displaying the U.S. Golf Open.

You bite back a chuckle as you step into the kitchen, filling up a glass of water before chugging it down, wiping the rest off your chin, before filling it up again. You spend a couple of minutes leaning against your counter taking small sips, before your ears perk up at the sound of your mom's voice from the garden. It's faint, like she's talking to someone, and you frown slightly as you think about who she could be talking to, considering your dad is in no state to have conversation with anybody, right now. 

You shrug it off, taking a few more sips before you go back through the house the way you came, your mother's voice becoming clearer as her laugh floats through the screen door. The sun bears down on your face once more as you step back into the garden, your eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright light as you close the screen door behind you.

"–there you are, peanut! I was just telling Joel about you, come and say hi. . ."

"Goody," you mutter to yourself as the screen door clicks shut.

"­–you remember I told you about Joel, don't you, honey? He lives next door with his daughter, Sarah,"

You bite back a sigh, before plastering a smile over your face as you turn to the garden to meet another undoubtedly middle-aged, pot-bellied man.

Either way, you're not expecting the man standing by the wooden fence; he's pretty young, maybe early thirties, with dark, scruffy hair and an equally half-kept scruffy beard and mustache. He's a handsome man, with dark, warm eyes that scan your face and an angular jaw and nose.

"Sure, I remember" you let out, smiling at him sweetly, "Pleased to meet you,"

"Hello," he returns your greeting with a slight nod, and his voice is deep and gravelly, tinged with that telltale Texan accent, "Nice to finally meet you, your mom sure does talk about you a lot,"

You give him a dry, sarcastic smile, raising your brows slightly. "She sure does like to talk,"

Joel lets out a chuckling breath, corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as your Mom rolls her eyes.

"Always so dry, that one," she comments, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you sit back down on the sun lounger.

"Your mom said you were home from college for the summer. . . How long you visiting for?" Joel says with a clear of his throat.

You go to open your mouth as Joel waits patiently for your answer, but your mom beats you to it. "Until about mid-August. . . good to have her home, she hadn't been down here at the new house since we moved, you see. . ."

Joel's gaze lingers on you for a second before his eyes turn back to your mother, whose animated conversation you tune out, as you pull your sunglasses back down onto your nose, and pick your book back up, stretching your bare legs over the lounger. 

Your mind is anywhere but the book, however, and you make sure to hold it at such an angle that you can still peer over the spine, eyes shamelessly rolling over Joel's form from behind your sunglasses. He's wearing an old, dark green t-shirt that's covered in white paint splatters and looks like it's several sizes too small, but you don't find yourself complaining as your eyes linger over the bulge of his biceps under the shirt, broad chest stretching out the faded logo on the front. Your eyes travel down his torso to the shorts he's wearing, and you're pretty grateful for your sunglasses because you find your gaze lingering down from his belt to his zipper, material bulging slightly outwards­–

"­–Peanut can do it, can't you darling? She's real good with kids,"

Your mom's voice startles you out of your philandering thoughts, and eyes, and you pretend to look up from your book, heart skipping in your chest for a second as the idea that you'd just been checking out your parents' ridiculously attractive neighbor .

"Huh?" you let out, rather dumbly, lowering the book, and your mom makes an impatient noise.

"Joel's sitter called in sick and we've gotta be at the Council meeting after dinner," she explains, "You can watch Sarah for a couple of hours, can't you?"

"Uh–" you struggle to find your words for a second as Joel looks at you, before he puts up his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"Don't worry," he ensures you, shaking his head, "I ain't going to interrupt your evening plans, they don't need me at the council meeting, anyway–"

"Plans!" your mom says through a surprised chuckle, shaking her head "She doesn't have any, don't you worry," 

"Thanks, mom," you grumble under your breath, and again you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth twitch in held back amusement at your comment, before you clear your throat and nod, offering him a tentative smile, "Sure, I'm happy to help,"

"You sure?" he asks, and you nod, "It's just a couple hours, I'll be back before ten,"

"No worries, I can do that. . . uh–. . . how old is Sarah?" you ask, cringing slightly at the fact that you don't know, but Joel doesn't seem offended.

"She's eight," he informs you, and you nod again, "But don't worry, it won't be much work. . . she usually only stays up a couple of hours after dinner and then crashes,"

"Yeah, no problem," you reassure him, smiling slightly, and Joel gives you a grateful look. 

"Perfect! She'll be over after dinner, then," your mom beams, and he nods, clearing his throat.

"Thanks a lot, you're doing me a real favor," he comments, but something in Joel's tone tells you he would've rather stayed home with his daughter than attended a 3-hour long community council meeting chaired mostly by the middle-aged ladies of the neighborhood,

"No worries," you tell him with another sweet smile, and Joel's eyes linger on your face for a second, before he clears his throat, wiping his hands on his shorts and looking back at your mom. "Right. . . gotta get back to this lawn, but I'll see you both later, then,"

"See you later, Joel," your mom beams, and you give one more saccharine 'bye' in his direction before he disappears back into his garden. The minute she hears the lawn mower turn back on, your Mum comes to sit on the edge of your sun lounger.

"He's nice, isn't he?" she says, and you give an affirmative hum as you continue reading, "Handsome, too. . .been living out here 5 years,"

"Interesting," you say, and your voice sounds far from interested, but your mom doesn't pay it any attention as she continues.

"No wife, though. . . Betty said he's just raising Sarah on his own, has been his whole life. . . she thinks the wife ran away, or something, one of these nutjobs that abandons their own child–"

"Mom," you interrupt, putting your book down as you tip your glasses down your nose and give her a look, "You shouldn't be gossiping about this,"

You mom looks guilty for a second, before she purses her lips haughtily, getting back to her feet. "You're right, I suppose. . . well, either way, we gotta do what we can to help him out, don't we? Can't imagine it's easy being a single parent,"

"I'm sure it isn't," you comment, before you close your book with a small smack, deciding that reading in the vicinity of your mother is going to be impossible, "I'm gonna head back in. . . grab a shower, before dinner,"

"Sure, peanut," your mom says with a nod, before she redirects herself back to pruning the rosebush.

You make your way back inside the house, past your dad in the living room and up the carpeted stairs to your bedroom. It's not decorated exactly the way your old one in Galveston used to be, but it still has your old bed and dresser, and your mom has hung a couple of paintings you did when you were in middle school on the walls. You drop your book on the dresser, letting out a sigh as you walk over to the window to open it and let some air in.

Your room is on the left side of the house, closest to the neighbor's garden, and as your fingers grip the edge of the window to pull it up, they stall as your eye falls on Joel as he mows his lawn. Your eyes widen slightly as you see that Joel's isn't wearing the olive-green shirt anymore, having instead discarded it in a heap on one of his faded deck chairs, leaving him in nothing but those shorts. You watch as the sun glistens on his sweat-drenched skin, accentuating every contour of the muscular physique that had been hidden away by his t-shirt earlier.His strong arms flexing as he grips the lawnmower's handle, his movements deliberate and confident. The rhythmic sound of the engine fills the air, blending with the gentle breeze and the sounds of the kids three houses up playing in their pool. He moves with a surprising grace, a sensuality even in such a mundane task as his forehead creases with effort and focus.

You're almost mesmerised as you lean in closer, breath fogging against the glass of your window. He stops for a second, hand coming up to wipe some sweat from his brow, and in that split second he looks up, hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight, almost directly at you. You fumble slightly with the windowsill, eyes quickly moving away as you push the window up and open, pretending not to see him and fussing with your curtains, instead. Your eyes move back down for a split second, heart pounding in your chest at the idea he may have caught you staring at him, but Joel is already focusing on his lawn mower again, continuing on his way across his garden. 

"It's open, come on in!" comes a shout from inside the Miller house as you stand in front of their screen door, and you push it open gingerly.

Stepping across the threshold, the first thing that catches your eye is the haphazard mix of shoes strewn under the coat hook, ranging from Size 9 boots crusted with mud to a pair of bright pink trainers with glitter laces. The house isn't much different from yours. The stairs to the second floor are in the same place as your parents to the right of the hallway which you assume continues into the living room and kitchen. The wall is decorated with a mix of children's drawings, a few faded posters and various pictures of Joel and a young girl with curly black hair and a beaming smile.

"Sarah, where's my watch?" Joel's voice echoes from upstairs through the hall, and there's hurried steps on the landing upstairs, "I told you to stop playing with that thing!"

"I didn't take it. . . It's in your dresser drawer," comes another voice, a young girl's, from upstairs. There's the sound of thundering steps as someone hurries down the stairs, and you look up from where you'd been taking off your shoes to be faced with the young girl from the photos. She's older, but the smile is unmistakable as she stops three steps short of the ground, grinning brightly at you.

"Hi!" she lets out, and you give her a cautious smile.

"Hey there," you return, trying to keep your tone from being awkward, "I live next door,"

"Dad told me," she says with a nod, "He's almost ready, he gets really scatterbrained when he's in a hurry is all,"

"It's no problem. . . so do I," you say with a chuckle, and her smile widens as she contemplates you.

"You're really pretty," Sarah blurts suddenly, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Sarah," comes Joel's voice from the top of the stairs before you can open your mouth and respond, "That doesn't sound like it's any of your business, now does it?"

Joel cleans up nice. Gone are the faded t-shirt and frayed shorts, and they've been replaced with a pair of dark jeans and a plaid blue short-sleeved button down, albeit still wrinkled in some places. His hair still looks damp, and either Joel forgot to run a comb through it or he just doesn't care enough, because his curls are an unruly mess on his head, but it suits him. He's fastening a watch on his wrist as he comes down, and it takes a decent amount of willpower not to let your eyes run across the length of his muscular arm as it flexes with effort.

"It's alright, Mr. Miller, I don't mind," you say with a slight laugh as Joel hurries down the stairs, Sarah jumping the last few steps ahead of him. At your use of his last name, his head snaps up suddenly, eyes boring into yours.

"Joel," he corrects almost immediately, his voice soft but with a sharp undertone, before he grimaces, "Please. . . Mr. Miller makes me feel. . . old,"

"You are old," Sarah teases, before she turns back to you, "So do you?"

"Have a boyfriend?" you ask her, and she sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Duh,"

"I don't right now, no," you say, chuckling slightly.

"Oh," Sarah sounds put out, her eyebrows knitting into a frown, "Why not?"

Joel lets out a tutting sound as he stops a few steps away from you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes hastily.

"Sarah, enough," he chides her, giving his daughter a look, "Go and do something else rather than harass your babysitter,"

"I'm eight," she grumbles, "Don't even need a babysitter. . . you're just grouchy because you have to go to the community meeting and hang around all the old biddies,"

"Sa-rah," Joel hisses pointedly at his daughter, giving her a glare, but you laugh, shaking your head.

"I don't blame him, I'm not a huge fan of the old biddies myself," you tell Sarah jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at her, "Besides, a handsome man like your dad? I'm sure they stick to him like flies in a honey trap,"

Sarah lets out a giggle, her nose scrunching. "Oh, they love him,"

"Okay, alright," Joel says with a roll of his eyes as he grabs his keys off the small table in the entrance hall, "You're both being very funny. . . Sarah, why don't you go do the dishes in the sink you were supposed to do half an hour ago instead of standing here talking smack,"

You chuckle slightly as Sarah giggles again, before she darts off down the hallway to what you assume in the kitchen.

"Right, okay. . . she's had dinner already, there's some ravioli in the fridge if you get hungry, there's beer if you want–" Joel stops midway through his sentence, his brows knitting together as he regards you, "Hold on, can you even have beer?"

"I'm twenty-two, Joel," you say with a half-sarcastic, half-reassuring smile, nodding, "I can have beer,"

Joel's face doesn't change for a split-second as he seems to process this, before mouth opens into a nervous chuckle as he stuffs his keys in his back pocket. "Right, makes sense, sorry. . . uh–. . . that's it, right? My number's on the landline speed dial if anything happens, and I'll be home before 10,"

"Got it," you say with a nod, "Enjoy what I'm sure will be an absolutely riveting meeting about the neighborhood lawn maintenance standards,"

Joel grimaces, before chuckling dryly. "I'm sure I won't,"

You give a giggle as he steps towards the screen door, opening it up.

"See you later," he says, and you nod. 

"Bye," you say in a honeyed tone, and you watch him walk down the walkway towards his truck. Your eyes follow him as he gets in the car, feeling something pool in your lower belly just at the sight of him. Then, Sarah's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You coming?"

Turns out, Joel's babysitter ends up being sick for a lot longer than he'd anticipated, which means you end up spending a lot more of your days and evenings in the Miller household than you anticipated doing this summer.

It does nothing but encourage your growing attraction to Joel, like adding kindling to an ever-growing fire with every second you spend in his presence, and after two weeks of babysitting Sarah a few nights and a few afternoons, you feel yourself start to get bolder.

You're braver with your touches, the occasional light brush of your fingers against his arm becoming more deliberate, hands lingering during a conversation or shared moment of laughter. You've noticed that Joel reacts to you, as well, albeit in a much more restrained way, but it does nothing to deter you.If anything, his restraint only encourages you to push further, a little more each time. It's like a challenge, and shit, do you enjoy a challenge.

It's Wednesday evening, and you're in the entrance house of the Miller house again, kicking off your shoes as you hear Joel move around upstairs.

"Hello!" you shout into the house, and almost immediately you hear Sarah's footsteps race through the corridor, before she comes tearing around the corner. When she catches sight of you, more specifically what you're wearing, she lets loose a screech of excitement.

"You look so good!" she lets out in a squeal, her feet stomping on the spot as she looks at you, "He isn’t going to know what to do with himself,”

“Yes, thank you, if you could keep your voice down about it that would be great,” you tell her as you take off your coat, giving her a look, and she giggles. 

“He’s too busy running around the house getting ready to eavesdrop,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “When are you going to meet him?” 

“Don’t know yet,” you return in a mockery of her dreamy tone, before rolling your eyes, “I’m here watching you first, he’ll come pick me up after,”

Sarah’s eyes shine with excitement. “You mean I get to see him?” 

“You better be in bed snoring when that happens missy,” you tell her, your hands coming to your hips as you give her a stern look. 

“Who better be in bed when what happens?” comes Joel’s voice as he appears at the top of the stairs, before hurrying down like he always does. This time, however, as he’s fastening his watch strap, his eyes momentarily move expectantly onto Sarah. 

“Nothing, Dad,” Sarah lies surprisingly well, “Just that I’d better be in bed by the time you get home,” 

“Which won’t be very late, by the way, probably around te–” Joel’s voice stalls in his throat as his gaze falls on you, and his eyebrows fly up his forehead, “What are you all dolled up for?”

He’s not wrong that you’d gotten dolled up for the evening, but it wasn’t for babysitting; you were having drinks with someone you knew through a friend later, after babysitting. 

“It’s part of my very elaborate plan to seduce you,” you say simply, shrugging innocently but corners of your mouth pulled into the beginnings of a smile. 

There’s a split second of silence where Joel’s eyes widen slightly, before Sarah bursts into laughter, and a full smile starts spreading over your features. 

“Well I gotta say you’re failing pretty desperately, then,” Joel counters, and Sarah breaks into another round of laughter as your jaw falls open in shock and almost theoretical offense.

“You jacka–” you stop yourself, suddenly very aware of Sarah’s younger ears as you hold in your swear, pressing your lips together into a grudging smile, and it makes Joel chuckle slightly as he gets to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Careful. . . little ears are listening,” he says the last part in an airy voice as he passes you by, and you scoff, shaking your head. 

“Sarah, please go away so I can call your dad a name,” you tell her after a second of silence, and Joel lets out a sound of protest as he puts on his shoes, Sarah laughing again before she dutifully turns on her heel and runs back down the hall. 

When she’s gone, you turn to Joel, leaning slightly towards him to ensure he hears you. 

“Jack–ass,” you enunciate, and he nods with a smirk. 

“You started it,” 

“Sarah told me you have a date,” you say, smiling, “You sure it’s only going to be 10?” 

“Once again, my eight-year-old shares my business with the entire world,” 

“I’m not the entire world, I’m me,” you chime in, and Joel snorts. 

“It’s not that kind of date,” 

“Oh,” you let out, making a small grimace of disappointment, “Boring,” 

“Thanks,” Joel says with a dry smile, and you make another face, this one apologetic. 

"How do I look?" he asks you, holding his arms out semi-nervously, and you bite back a smile.

"Very pretty," you say half-seriously, and he rolls his eyes at you.

"You're funny," he tells you, pointing a finger at you and shaking his head, "Alright, I think I'm off then,"

With that, Joel goes to turn on his heel, but suddenly he feels your fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling gently.

"Joel, wait," you let out through a breathy laugh, taking a few steps forward so you're standing in front of him suddenly, your fingers releasing his wrist. Joel goes stiff, but you don't notice as you bring your hands up, one falling on his shoulder gently and the other moving towards his face, before he feels your thumb swipe over the edge of his jaw, "You've got­ shaving cream–. . . there you go,"

Joel's eyes watch your face as you chuckle slightly, before you tut as your eyes fall to his shirt, corners on your mouth twitching upwards into the beginning of a smile.

"–and your collar's crooked," you say, your hands moving to straighten out the lapels of his shirt, letting out a chuckle, your voice a little lower and a little deeper than Joel's ever noticed before, ". . jesus Joel,"

When you're satisfied with the correct shape of his shirt collar, your eyes move from his jaw to find him staring down at you. You're suddenly very aware of Joel; how close he's standing, the way his eyes are trained on yours, lingering, the way he smells. He smells really good, a mix of sandalwood aftershave and ––

You can't help yourself as you sniff the air, before your eyebrows crease slightly, eyes full of sudden question. "Do. . . do you smell like strawberry?"

You watch as Joel's cheeks color a slight pink, lips pursing with an expression as if he's been made, "I ran out of shower gel. . . had to use Sarah's,"

Your lips press together and Joel can tell you're trying desperately not to smile, but he can see the laughter in your eyes as you look up at him, twinkling with amusement.

"Very manly," you manage to bring out, giving him a teasingly reassuring smile, and for the first time that evening Joel's shoulders deflate of tension as he lets out a laughing scoff, shaking his head and looking away, smirk growing on his lips as he hears you start to laugh.

"You are a mean woman, you know that?" he tells you, and for the first time, you hear something in Joel's tone, something. . . friendlier. It’s teasing, almost flirty.  

"I was joking," you let out with a chuckle on your own as he turns back to laugh at you, raising a single eyebrow as his eyes meet yours.

"Didn't sound like you were joking, sweetheart," he says, and you feel something in your stomach at the sound of the nickname rolling over his lips. 

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you tell him, sarcastically, and when you find yourself looking into his eyes a split second longer than you should, you swallow, pulling your hands away from his face, and taking a step back. 

"Thanks," he says, clearing his throat as he steps towards the screen door.

"Anytime," you say, giving him a smooth, playful smile, covering up the moment of tension that passed between you just now, "You look great, Joel. . . she's a lucky woman,"

He gives a little scoff, raising his brows slightly. "I'll be back by ten,"  

“I believe you,” you tell him sarcastically as he steps over the threshold, “Bye, Joel,”

Joel is late. 

Only by half an hour. You’d already texted the guy you were meeting to tell him it would be later and that you’d keep him in the loop, but that doesn’t stop you making sure all your things are ready to go already an hour before Joel even gets home. It’s 22:34 when his keys sound in the front door, 20 minutes after he’d sent a one-word text that he was on his way back, and you’re sitting on the couch watching a rerun of the Wire. 

You look up as Joel walks in.

“Hi,” you let out in a softer voice as you sit, pulling your denim jacket off the couch armrest, “How was it?” 

You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes run over the exposed skin of your shoulders and chest in your thin-strapped dress for a small moment before he looks back up at you and gives a nod. 

“Nice,” he tells you, and you nod with a smile, pulling the jacket on and getting up off the couch, “Did Sara behave?” 

“No complaints,” you say with a laugh, “Kid’s an angel,” 

Joel smiles slightly as he nods, before he watches you grab your bag, which had been lying by the couch and sling it over your shoulder, “You headed home?” 

You stifle a small yawn, before smiling with a shake of your head. “No, I’m headed into downtown. . . meeting someone for drinks,” 

“You should’ve told me!” Joel lets out in surprise, eyes widening slightly, and you chuckle softly, waving him off. 

“It’s really fine, he can wait a half hour,” 

“How are you getting downtown? Do you need a ride?” he offers, but you shake your head, before you pull your phone out of your back pocket to look at the plastic display. 

“I’ve got one,” you say, and your voice is almost a little timid, as though being picked up by your date from Joel’s was somehow more embarrassing than at your own house. 

“He picking you up?” Joel asks, and you nod. 

As if on cue, a set of headlights flash through the living room window as a car pulls up on the side of the curb on the opposite side of the street. 

“Do you need me again this week?” you ask, looking back at Joel from where you’d watched the car pull up. Joel shakes his head. 

“Don’t think so,” he comments, before his brow creases for a split second, “But try not to get abducted on your date, I’d like to keep the option open,” 

“I’ll try not to,” you reply through a knowing chuckle, before walking past him towards the front door, hand on the knob. 

“If I suddenly stop answering texts, call the police,” you say half-jokingly, and Joel turns to give you a look and points his finger at you as you open the door. 

“That isn’t funny,” he tells you in a half-serious tone, and you snicker once more before you step over the threshold. 

“Goodnight, Joel,” 

Joel watches you walk down the front path, denim jacket pulled tightly over your shoulders against the evening chill, legs bare under your dress. He watches you get in the car parked on the curb, greeting whoever is driving with the same blinding smile you sometimes give him, and Joel feels something rear up slightly in his chest. It’s like a shock through his body, and he averts his eyes as the car drives off, shuffling back into his living room with a mild frown on his face as he pulls out his mobile. It's a cheap, battered Nokia model that Joel doesn't use enough to replace.

You’ve barely turned the curb when your own phone buzzes, and you pull it out of the pocket of your jacket. 

from: joel. 10:39 PM  

pls call if getting murdered 

You can’t stop the slight chuckle that falls over your lips, and it makes the guy driving you look over, giving a tentative grin. “What’s funny?” 

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head with a smile as you type a reply, “Just something stupid,” 

to: joel 10:40 PM

i’ll try my best

You don't see Joel for the rest of the week, which is really only a few days if you think about it.

You hear his truck, the sound of his deep voice floating through the Miller's open back doors and windows as he hollers through the house for Sarah or Tommy, you can even hear them come up their front driveway if you're in the living room, but you don't see him.

You haven't seen Joel, and yet you think you're going a little crazy, because you're still thinking about him.   

You don't know what's consuming you, but every time you hear him around the neighborhood, your thoughts redirect to him, to your interactions. . . and then your mind starts to wander. . . you think about how his hands might feel running over your body, gripping the dips of your hips, how it would feel to kiss him, trace your lips over the curves of the muscles in his chest–

"Kiddo, you still with me?"

Your dad's voice interrupts your train of thought, and your mind returns to the present situation, which is you putting the plates your dad is handing you in the dishwasher.

"Hm?" you return, and your Dad chuckles.

"What's got you so deep in thought, hm? You've been absent all day,"

You give a shrug, taking the plate he's handing you and leaning over to slot it into the dishwasher. "It's nothing Dad. . . just thinking about my book,"

"Since when is book code for boys?" your dad chuckles, and your eyes widen as you look at him, thinking you've been made.

But how the hell could he know what you'd been thinking?

"What?" you bring out, and your dad smiles knowingly.

"You've been like this ever since you went out for those drinks," he tells you, raising an eyebrow, "You may be older, but you're still my little girl. . . I can read you like a book,"

You make a note of how happy you are that your dad can't actually read your thoughts like a book, because you're pretty sure if he could he'd be shipping you off to a convent right about now.

You give a small smile. "You got me,"

You figure it's easier to explain you've been thinking about some guy you'd had three drinks with and never plan on calling again instead of confessing to your dad that last night you'd had the possibly dirtiest dream about the very man he likes to invite over for monthly poker nights.

"You seein’ him again tonight?" your dad asks, and you shake your head with a chuckle.

"No," you say pointedly, "Tonight it's just me and some friends,"

"Alright," your dad says with a nonchalant raise of his hands, before your eyes fall on the clock hanging on the wall.

"I should be going soon, actually," you say, and your dad nods, "Laura said she'd be by around eight thirty–"

At that precise moment, you hear a honking noise from the street, and as you peer through the window, you see Laura's fern green Toyota Corolla parked on the curb in front of your house. 

"That's my cue," you say with a smile, before grabbing your purse from the dining table and leaning in to kiss your dad on the cheek, "See you later, dad,"

"Have fun honey," your dad says, and as you walk to the door of the kitchen, he adds, "If you need a ride home, call me, alright?"

"I will," you holler over your shoulder, before you step through the corridor and swing the door open.

It's somewhere after 8:30 PM, and the sun has only just started setting in the sky. It's mid-July, so it's still warm out, but you find that the evening heat and humidity is a little less oppressive than during the day. Nevertheless, you're not wearing anything but the silk slip dress you'd had on all day, deciding not to bring a cardigan at the last minute, guessing you’d be fine.

Laura honks again as you step out of the door, and as you make your way towards her car, she leans out the driver's seat and whistles. "Well hello there, hot stuff!"

You let out a laugh, shaking your head and your cheeks burning slightly as you wave her off. You'd met Laura at college in Seattle; you'd been in the same statistics class, and it had been pure chance when you'd become friends after you'd pointed out her Texas Longhorns shirt, which had led to you telling her your parents had just moved to Austin from Galveston, which happened to be where Laura was from.

"Shut up," you tell her jokingly as you pull open the car door, before getting in, "How are you doing?"

Laura is a short girl, with fair, freckle dotted skin and hair the color of rust. Her usual chartreuse green eyes are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and she gives you a smirk as she tilts her head down, giving you a look over them.

"All good here, doll," she says, before pushing her sunglasses up her forehead into her hair, "How was your day?"

"Good," you say with a nod, before you watch as Laura's eyes shift to something over your shoulder, eyebrows creeping up her forehead.

"Is that your neighbor?" she asks, and you turn in your seat to look at where she's staring, "You never told me he looked like that!"

True enough, Joel is standing in his driveway talking to Tommy, who's leaning out of the window of his truck, cigarette between his lips. He's wearing those same ratty beige shorts you've come to know so well, and a grimy grey t-shirt covered in black grease marks, undoubtedly from working in the garage all day. He still looks good, despite the sweat and the grime, shirt hugging his biceps and chest in just the right way and hair mussed on his head.

"It's criminal," you mutter, and Laura laughs, before you watch as the Miller's front door flies open and Sarah bounds down the path, purple backpack slung over shoulder.

"That his daughter? The one you babysit?" Laura asks, and you hum in agreement, "Jesus. . .who knew they made daddies so yummy, these days,"

"Maybe we shouldn't be staring," you realize suddenly, very aware of the fact that Joel could move his head any minute and spot you ogling him. He's probably already noticed you when Laura had honked at you from the front door.

"Hey, it is my human right to stare at your hot neighbor," Laura defends, before giving you a look, "You tried anything with him yet?"

"Laura!" you let out, trying to act as though you hadn't been flirting with Joel for the better part of two weeks, but she doesn't buy your tone, and lets out a full laugh.

"I knew it!" she says, shaking her head again with a smirk, "I can't blame you, doll. . .anything?"

"No," you say pointedly, "I mean, maybe. . . probably not,"

At that precise moment, you hear a call of your name, and your eyes widen to watch Sarah giving you an enthusiastic wave from where she's half-way into the passenger seat of Tommy's truck. You try not to look too guilty as you wave back at her, eyes shifting to Joel for a second only to find him looking at you with a half-amused smile. Laura gives another short honk and waves herself as your eyes shift quickly back to Sarah, before chuckling to herself, polite smile plastered on her face, "He's looking at you,"

"Drive, please," you mutter back through your smile, and she snorts as you turn back to her.

"You ready to have some fun?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, and you giggle, humming.

"As long as it involves a significant amount of drinking, I'm happy," you tell her, and she laughs loudly.

"Trust me," Laura says with a chuckle, before turning back to front and shifting the gear, foot stepping on the gas, "I know just the place,"

To give Laura credit, the bar is fun.

It isn't too busy, nor too empty, and the music is good, at just the right volume to have a conversation without having to yell.

You're about three beers in, one of which was paid for by one of the two guys that had sidled up to you and Laura about half an hour ago. They were cute enough, and Laura seemed pretty taken with the one she was talking with, but your conversation was not nearly as riveting and you quickly felt your mind drifting.

Joel had been floating through your thoughts for the past few days, and seeing him earlier had lit something electric in you; he seemed to occupy your brain like a parasite, thoughts never straying far from his face, his lips, his arms–

Joel (?!)

You feel something like a jolt pass through you as your eyes register his familiar face, and you blink a few times to assure yourself it's him. But he is there, it isn't a figment of your imagination, he's standing on the other end of the bar by one of the tall tables, and he's looking at you.

You feel your cheeks start to burn as a bashful smile overtakes your features, and you look away from him with laughter in your eyes as you turn back to the guy talking sitting opposite you.

"I'll be right back," you tell him, your smile changing slightly but your voice staying honeyed and soft, "I'm getting another beer,"

"Okay," he says, looking almost a little relieved, and you bite back a smile at the fact that the poor dude is probably just as bored as you are wing manning his friend, and jumping at a chance to disrupt the semi-awkward silence.

You get up from your seat, grabbing your almost empty glass and making a beeline for the bar. From the corner of your eyes, you think you see Joel moving as well, but you don't look his way as you give the bartender a smile, setting your glass down.

"Can I have another, please?" you ask him, and he nods as he takes your empty glass from you.

Then, to your left, someone clears their throat, and you turn to find Joel standing there, giving an amused smile.

"Hello," he tells you with a chuckle, and you press your lips together in a bashful smile as you nod.

"Hi, Joel," you tell him, chuckling slightly, "Long time no see,"

"I know," Joel muses, setting his own glass down, "Was wondering when I'd run into you like this,"

When, not if.

"Didn't think you were much of a bar person," you comment, and Joel's brows raise slightly.

"You makin' assumptions?" he asks you, and you shrug, making a joking grimace.

"Just sayin', Joel," you reply, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into the beginning of a smirk. 

Your conversation interrupts for a second as the barman sets down your drink, and you pay for it. Then, you turn to Joel, beer in hand.

“Well, I'm going to enjoy my beer, which I can have," you say, your tone a joking reference to earlier.

"Yeah, yeah. . . what gets me is that you only think you've been made now," Joel says with a subtle raise of his brow.

"Oh?" you let out, and the corners of Joel's mouth twitch upwards into that smirk again.

"Sweetheart, I've been watching you all evening,"

Oh.

The moments his words reach your ears you feel something sending a small shockwave through your system, and your thighs involuntarily clench, which you try to cover it up with a small scoff.

"Guess I'm not as subtle as I initially thought," you mutter, and Joel lets loose a soft chuckle as he shakes his head.

"I've seen you throw back like 4 beers already, aren't you starting to feel it a little?" he jokes, and you scoff.

"This is my fourth, so no,” you say pointedly, before you press your lips together in a second of silence, "Okay I may be starting to feel it,"

"Alright," he says with a laugh and a raise of his eyebrows, before he finishes the beer at the bottom of his glass, setting it down on the bar next to you when he's done.

"You let me know when you want to go home," he informs you, and your brow creases into a frown as you stand up a little straighter.

"What?” you ask him, and Joel gives you a look, "Joel, no–. . . I'm a big girl. I came here on my own just fine, I can find my way home,"

"I'd still feel better if it were me taking you home," Joel replies in a tone that makes it clear he isn’t going to argue about it, and you suppress a sigh as you feel a shiver run down the back of your neck at his words.

Christ, this man had you in his grip. 

"This is sort of ridiculous. . . I'm an adult, you know," you tell him eventually, and he gives you a dry smile.

"Indulge me, sweetheart,"

He's been a lot more liberal with the nickname lately than you think he's ever been, and it does something to you; every time it falls over his lips, your heart skips and your breath falters, leaving you scrambling to act completely normal about it.

"Fine," you give in, shaking your head with an eye roll, before you push off of the bar, your fourth drink in hand, "But I wouldn't wait around, Joel,"

Joel does wait around, and rightly so, because after another two hours, you've had enough.

You're not quite drunk, but you find that the alcohol you have drunk is not combining well with the exhaustion of a bad nights' sleep. Laura's been talking to the same guy who'd been by your table for about two hours, and even though his friend had tried chatting you up again, you'd been too distracted by Joel standing on the other side of the bar to be even remotely interested in what he was saying. Finally, you decide to bite the bullet.

"I'm sorry," you tell the guy with a small smile, before putting a hand on Laura's arm, who is deep in conversation with the other guy, "I think I'm headed home,"

"You all right?" she asks immediately, and you nod with a small smile.

"Yeah, just exhausted. . . lack of sleep catching up to me a little," you tell her, and she nods.

"Alright, I'll take you home," she says with a nod, reaching for her purse but you shake your head, giving her arm a squeeze.

"No, no! You stay here and have fun. . . Joel offered me a ride home," you tell her, and you watch as she bites back a smile, raising an eyebrow as her eyes quickly flick over to the bar to look for him.

"Okay," she says knowingly as she looks back at you, before she tries to cover up her smirk, "Get home safe, doll,"

“You too,” 

You excuse yourself, and spot Joel leaning across the bar slightly, saying something to the bartender over the music, not immediately noticing as you walk to him. He only turns to look at you as he feels your fingers graze his arm lightly to get his attention.

"So," you say, your tone joking, "You still want to get out of here?"

To your surprise, Joel's mouth twitches into an amused smile at the double-entendre, which makes you smile slightly, and nods.

"Sure," he says with a knowing look, before he finishes off the rest of his beer, setting it down and saying goodbye to the bartender. He turns to you, pushing off the bar and motioning wordlessly for you to walk ahead, which you do. As you step through the thinning crowd of people in the bar, you swear you can feel Joel's fingers graze the small of your back, but the minute you notice, they're gone again.

The minute you step outside, you shiver slightly, and Joel frowns at you as you walk towards his car. 

"Didn't you bring a sweater?"

You shake your head. "It wasn't this cold when I left. . . besides, I left my usual cardigan on your couch, I think,"   

Joel had only noticed it the next morning, when he'd been sitting in front of the TV with his coffee and suddenly his nose had filled with the smell of you, which had startled him, until he'd spotted your cream cardigan stuffed unceremoniously in the corner of the couch.

Joel gives a hum as you reach the car, and you waste no time getting in the passenger seat, the car offering little extra warmth. Joel gets in, and for a second there's silence as he fastens his seatbelt and puts the key in the ignition, starting the car.

"Sarah at Tommy's tonight?" you ask him, and he hums as he puts the car in reverse, arm coming against the side of your headrest as he turns to look behind him. You feel something flutter in you as your gaze falls on the side of his face, but his eyes remain focused on behind him, oblivious to his effect on you.

"She's at a sleepover," he tells you, "Tommy just took her there,"

You nod in understanding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you process this information, and finally Joel turns back to the wheel as he pulls out onto the road, eyes crossing yours furtively.

"Thanks for taking me, by the way," you say, and Joel nods, "Didn't mean to put an end to your night,"

"No problem, sweetheart. . . it was getting kind of stuffy in there, anyway," he tells you, and you chuckle lightly, before you turn to look out of the window.

"Spoken like a true old man," you say, under your breath, but Joel obviously still hears it, because he snorts.

"At least I'm not drunk after 4 beers," he counters, and your head snaps to look at him as you frown jokingly.

"I'm not drunk," you defend, and Joel chuckles.

"Really? Is that why you sat through an hour and a half of almost silence?"

You feel your breath stall in your throat for a second as you register that Joel had been watching you, and at least for the majority of the night for him to know this.

You purse your lips, shaking your head with a grudging smile. "He was boring. . . besides, I didn't do it for me, thank you very much, my friend was having a great time with his buddy!"

Joel nods with a hum. "You’re a good friend, then,”

His tone has a hint of teasing sarcasm to it, and it makes you raise your eyebrows in challenge. 

"Well what about you, then?" you counter, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he glances at you from the road for a second.

"What about me, sweetheart?" he inquires, and you snort, shaking your head as you look out of the window.

"I saw you turn down, like, four women," you say pointedly, before giving a sarcastic chuckle, "Not good enough for you?"

Joel just shrugs. "Nobody special,"

You let out a bark of laughter, looking back at him. "Joel Miller is picky, is he?"

Joel doesn't look at you, but you watch as he pursues his lips, corners of his mouth twitching into a smile as he shakes his head.

"Not picky," he says simply, and his eyes cross yours for another split second, before they go back to the road, "Just had my eye on something better,"

It feels like something kickstarts inside you at his words, and you try your best to keep your smile from growing as your eyes drift back to the road with a hum and a sarcastic nod.

Finally.

In no time, Joel is pulling into your familiar street, and your heart is beating a million miles per hour as he turns into his driveway, headlights illuminating his garage door. Your hands feel sweaty as he switches off the engine, and when the lights die and plunge you back into the darkness of the evening, you start to feel nervous. What if you'd been reading it wrong? What if you were about to try something that would end in a decidedly awkward situation and forever taint your trips home?

You watch as Joel starts to speak, and you panic.

"Do you mind if I come in for a sec?" you ask, and Joel's words die in his throat as you hastily add, "To get my cardigan. . . I kinda need it tomorrow,"

Joel closes his mouth, and you can't quite decipher his expression in the dark of the car, but you hear him let out a measured breath. "Sure,"

Before you know it you're standing on Joel's porch as he unlocks the door, and he motions for you to go first as the door swings inwards. The house is dark but still recognizable, and you don't even think twice as you take off your shoes, not quite decided on whether you do it out of pure habit or because you’re finding an excuse to stay. If Joel notices, he doesn't say anything about it, and as you walk deeper into the hallway, he points at the kitchen.

"Put your cardigan on the kitchen table," he lets you know, "Thought it would remind me to come over and drop it off, but uh–. . .  I ran out of time today,"

"That's okay," you say with a chuckle as you walk in the direction he's pointing, before stepping sideways into the kitchen. As you flick on the light, you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the hall before you hear the unmistakable creak of the couch as you assume he sits down, followed by a slight groan.

"You all right?" you call as you locate your cardigan, and you hear him hum.

"Glad to be home," he returns, "That bar gave me a headache,"

You stall in the kitchen door for a second, before you turn back on your heel and reach for a glass in the cabinet, filling it up at the tap with water. You take a deep breath, steeling the nerves bubbling in your stomach as your mind races with the thought of Joel sitting on the couch just past this room, legs undoubtedly spread and back leaning against the couch.

"The bar?" you ask, your voice humorous, "Or the beers?"

"Not usually a drinker," Joel says after a second as you switch off the tap, and make your way out of the kitchen with the glass in hand, your cardigan forgotten in the kitchen, "But Jerry kept buying em', and hell, saying no would just be bad manners, wouldn't it?"

You chuckle as you step past the threshold of the living room. Joel is sitting exactly as you imagined him, except his head is thrown back and his hand is pressed against his forehead as he lets out another heavy breath. You can just about see the rise of his bulge through his jeans when he's sitting like this, and the desire that overcomes you makes the nerves you'd felt earlier in your stomach disappear into a puff of smoke.

"And yet this is your first glass of water…getting behind the wheel after more than 3 beers?" you say in an almost chastising tone as you come around the couch. "How irresponsible of you, Mr. Miller,"

Hook.

From the corner of your eye you notice Joel's thigh clench under his jeans, foot digging into the carpet but not moving from the way he's sitting on the couch as his head moves, hand coming back down to rest on his thigh as his back straightens slightly. His eyes have moved to you, and you can feel them watching you as you put down the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch, standing straight. His gaze tracks you, so that when you're standing, Joel's eyes meet with yours, expression unreadable as you raise your eyebrows expectantly for an answer.

"Don't do that,"

His tone isn't easy to discern; the timber of his voice is a little deeper than it was a second ago, but you can hear the conflict between desire and restraint in his tone, which makes you bite back a smirk.

"Do what?" you return with a shrug, playing dumb, and you swear you see the color of Joel's eyes darken, and he clears his throat, pursing his lips.

"It's playing with fire," he warns you, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you take a step towards him, sitting on the couch, so that his head angles slightly to look at you as you get closer.

"Playing with fire," you muse jokingly, before you bend down ever so slowly, fingers going to close over an empty mug that had been left out on the small table destined for the lamp and remote. You have to bend slightly over Joel to do so, and your knee grazes his as you reach, Joel's eyes leaving your face for a second as they move over the curve of your back, and the rise of your ass, "What does that even mean?"

Line–

"It means you have to behave around me," he tells you, and for a minute you hear his usual stern tone bleed through the low and heavy pitch of his voice.

"I have to behave?" you ask, fingers leaving the mug on the table as your head moves to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Then, you move, leaning slightly over him, and Joel feels your leg move, knee coming to rest on the couch beside his thigh as your eyes never leave his, "I don't have to do anything, Joel. . . 'can do whatever I want,"

With that, you move again, leaning slightly on your knee and putting a gentle hand on Joel's shoulder in order to bring your other leg up onto the couch, so that you're straddling him, thighs over his and hands on his shoulders. It's risky, you know that, and at any moment you're half-expecting Joel to push you off of him, but he doesn't. He stays still, his eyes fixed on you.

"And what is it you want?" Joel asks, and his voice is raspy, almost breathless as he stays stiff beneath you, but you think you feel the tips of his fingers graze over your knee slightly. Your hand moves from his shoulder down his chest, nails digging slightly into the material of his shirt as you drag them down.

"I want you to touch me," you breathe, and your tone teeters on desperate, the pent-up frustration from all of this week coursing through your veins, "Please touch me, Joel,"  

–and sinker.

You can see it in the darkening of his eyes, the clench of his jaw; you know you've got him right where you want him.

"Sweetheart," Joel's voice is low, a barely controlled grumble that comes from deep down in his chest, teetering between warning and wanting as he feels your palm move over his chest lightly, "This is wrong,"

You look at him, eyes low and searching his as your nails dig into the material of his shirt. His words and the tone of his voice fuel a fire in your belly.

"I know," you whisper, and Joel can feel your breath tickle his lips, before you lean forward, lips brushing past his cheek as you lean down to whisper in his ear, "Tell me to stop. . . tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,"

Stop.

Joel wants to say it, but somehow, the words refuse to cross his lips as you take it a step further and rock your hips against him, and then he's had enough. His hands move suddenly, planting themselves on your hips firmly, fingers digging into your exposed skin as he holds you in place, stopping your movements suddenly. You pull back slightly, so that you're looking at him again, and for a second you can read it all in his eyes. They flash between lust and guilt, and for a minute there's nothing but silence filled with Joel's measured breaths.

And then, at last, Joel Miller gives in.

His lips are on yours in a second, hand moving to the back of your head to pull you in, his other arm snaking around your waist as he sits straighter and pulls you flush to him. It makes your hips move against the hardening bulge in his jeans, the sudden movement of your panties against him making you let out a small moan of surprise into his mouth as he pulls you impossibly close. Your sound is swallowed by his mouth, moving with a desperate fervor against yours, taking advantage of the parting of your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. He practically devours you as his palm covers almost the entirety of your lower back, the heat of his skin seeming to come through your dress. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in the curls of his hair as you try and grab as much of him as you can. 

It's messy, desperate, all clashing tongues and teeth as nearly two weeks' worth of tension comes to a head. You roll your hips again, this time slowly, and as you feel Joel's bulge grow underneath you, he pulls away from your lips to draw in a sharp, throaty breath.

"Fuck," he groans, eyes pressed shut for a second, before he tangles his fingers in your hair and uses them to pull your head back slightly, exposing your neck to him. Joel wastes no time running his lips over the edge of your jaw, kissing down into the crook of your neck and the column of your throat as his hand moves from your back to your shoulder, pulling down the flimsy strap of your dress. His hand moves with it, before tugging on the neckline of your dress. You let loose another moan at the action, his mouth kissing over your collarbone and moving to the side down the top of your now exposed breath.

You let out a strangled moan as Joel's lips close over your nipple, teeth grazing over the tip as he bears down on it, his hand cupping under your breast, fingers kneading into your skin.

"J–Joel," you stutter out as pleasure courses through your chest, your fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue draws illicit shapes over your nipple, before his mouth moves in hastened kisses back across the center of your chest, up your collar bone, until finally you feel his lips brush the bottom of your chin. The grip in your hair loosens, your head angled back down enough for his lips to meet yours in another searing kiss.

It's even more intense than the last, and it steals your breath, every move against his body like a shock, skin igniting with his wandering touches.

You mentally take note of how happy you are that you wore a dress tonight, because there’s nothing more than the thin material of your panties separating you, and you can feel Joel's bulge through his jeans. As Joel kisses you, his mouth slowly tracing kisses back down your jaw line, you reach for the button on his jeans, popping it, before your fingers move to the hem of his shirt. You tug, and Joel pulls away from you for a second to help you pull his shirt over his head, before he's kissing you again, your fingers undoing his fly.

It's one big rush, almost frantic, but for some reason, you can't wait any longer. Your fingers run under the hem of his underwear, while Joel's hand moves down between the two of you. Your body freezes suddenly as you feel the pads of Joel's fingers graze over your entrance. You had been so busy trying to get his pants off you hadn't even noticed him moving your panties to the side, but you can feel him as he pushes the tip of his thick, calloused middle finger inside of you.

You let out a stuttering gasp at the feeling, and you feel Joel smirk against your lips.

"Needy little thing, aren’t ya?" he whispers as he sinks the first knuckle between your folds.

Your only response is a whimpering sound as Joel pushes on, until finally his entire finger is buried in your pussy. Your eyes widen slightly at the feeling as your lips part in a breathy gasp.

"Fuck," you whisper out, and your eyes press shut and hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as your feel Joel's finger curl inside of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks, his voice deep and velvety, his tone like music to your ears as you feel his other hand press firmly against the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

Joel clearly knows what he's doing, because in a mere manner of minutes he has you keening against him, a combination of expletives and his name falling over your lips in pleasured breaths. The heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every stroke of his finger, and the combination of the friction and the feeling of the pad of his index pushing inside of you as well almost sends you over the edge.

"Ah–. . . oh god, Joel," you stutter out, and you feel him smirk against your skin as he kisses down your neck back towards your breasts, recognizing the way your back stiffens and your thighs clench around his, your hips rolling over his hand desperately as he curls his fingers inside you again, working you open.

"Come on, sweetheart, I got you," he breathes against your chest, trailing your collarbone with his tongue, before his head dips, "Be a good girl and come all over these fingers, hm?"

With that, you feel Joel's mouth close over your nipple again, and your orgasm crashes through you. Joel does nothing to silence your sounds of pleasure as they echo through his living room, eyes pressed shut and brow furrowed as your head tips back slightly. Your chest heaves for breath as pleasure consumes you, your hips stuttering against his hand, and his head moves, eyes watching your face with a victorious expression, enjoying the sight of your blissed-out features. Eventually your moans become pants as your heartbeat starts to slow down, and you feel Joel kiss you again, your mouth opening to let him in willingly as you feel his fingers pull out of you, making you gasp slightly against his lips.

It takes a second for you to catch your breath, but not much longer, the weeks of lingering touches having filled you with so much anticipation neither of you can wait any longer to feel the other. You move off him for a split second to allow him to lift his hips so you can drag the waistline of his jeans down, Joel's lips leaving hungry kisses against yours. Neither of you bother pulling his pants down all the way, and as your hand wraps around the length of him, Joel lets out a stuttered gasp, fingers ghosting over the hem on your panties before moving them to the side again.  

You slowly lower yourself until you feel the tip of him press up against you, before your hips stall at the feeling, your mind seemingly registering only for the first time tonight how big Joel might be. He definitely feels bigger than you'd anticipated, and your hips freeze for a second at the thought. When you look back at Joel, his eyes are already on your face, analyzing every frown, every twitch of your features to gauge a change in your mood.

"You all right there, sweetheart?" he asks you, and his tone is so different from a second ago when he'd been talking you through your climax, so gentle, it throws you a little off guard, "You still want to keep going?"

You feel your chest warm at the question and the feel of his hands placed gently on your hips, dress bunched up to your waist as his hands caress the skin underneath with gentle strokes. A smile creeps up on your lips as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"Yes," you let out a whisper, before you move your hips down and the head of his cock pushes past your folds.

Your mouth parts as you sink down onto Joel, his fingers digging into your skin as you watch his eyes close and a frown furrow itself deep in his brow. He doesn't push you down, and lets you control the pace as you work yourself down his length, which feels impossibly thick, but you find yourself enjoying the slight burn of stretching around him.

Finally, with a final push down of your hips he's buried to the hilt. The guttural groan Joel lets out, as he throws his head back slightly against the couch, mingles with your own moan as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Holy shit," Joel rasps out, "S'tight, baby,"

You just let out a whimpering hum, barely coherent as you feel Joel's hips press against your ass, skin igniting where it touches against his. 

He brings his head back to look at you.You're a sight to behold like this, sitting in his lap, dress hiked up to your hips and flimsy straps halfway down your arm, exposing the tops of your breasts. Your eyes are shut, brow creased in effort and concentration, full lips parted in pleasure.

"There you go," Joel goads as you try and adjust to the feeling of being impossibly full, teeth biting down into your lip, "Knew you could do it,"

"Jesus, fuck, Joel," you stutter out, closing your eyes slightly as you feel him press his forehead against yours, perfectly still as he's buried into you as far as he can go, "You're so deep,"

"I know, sweetheart, I know" he coos, and you feel his hand run soothingly over the skin of your hip, "Is that what you've been thinking about every time you're over here, hm? How deep I'd feel inside of you?"

"Y–ye–. . . oh fuck, yes, Joel," you bring out as his hands gently roll your hips, making you whimper as you throw your head back slightly, eyes pressed shut, "Not just when I'm here. . . been thinking about it all week, Joel,"

"That so?" he hums, and you feel his lips leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck, "You been touching yourself thinking about me?"

The question makes your cheeks burn, and you open your eyes looking down at Joel. His eyes shift to yours as he looks up from where he's kissing your neck, a smirk spreading across his face as he catches sight of your embarrassed expression.

"Don't go shy on me now, baby," he tells you with a deep chuckle, before you feel him move your hips upwards slightly, pulling out halfway and waiting, "Been rather bold, haven't you. . . ? Bein' all flirty, pushin' up against me when you know I can't do anything about it. . . now, answer me,"

"Y­–yes," you bring out, and with that, Joel pushes down on your hips suddenly, burying himself to the hilt once more, eyes never leaving yours. You can't stop the loud, desperate moan that falls over your lips and echoes through the living room as he does, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure courses through your body, and Joel watches with a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"That's bad, sweetheart," he says in a mockingly chastising, shaking his head, "Maybe you don't deserve it, then, hm? Maybe I'll just teach you a lesson instead,"

Joel's head dips again, one hand firmly on your hips, keeping you in place in his lap, the other moving up to cup your breast. His lips close over the sensitive skin of your nipple, you gasp slightly, before a moan builds in your chest. You try to move your hips, desperate to release some of the friction, to feel him thrust into you again, but Joel's hand is like a vice.

"No, baby," he rasps against your skin, before you feel his teeth nip at your nipple slightly, "You sit tight. . . don't get to move yet. . . not until I say so,"

You let out a plaintive whimper as you feel him flex inside of you, your walls fluttering around him desperately in anticipation.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're squeezing me so tight," he groans, but still he doesn't move his hips, or let you move yours, lips resuming the onslaught on your breasts.

"Joel," you let out in a whine, and you feel him smirk against your skin.

"What is it darlin'?" he asks you, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, "Want me to move, hm? Why don't you beg for it?" 

Joel watches as your eyes open, and you use your hand, tangling it in his hair to move him off your breasts, angling his head slightly upwards, looking down into his eyes.

"I don't beg," you tell him, your voice hinting at authoritative, and you can see in his eyes that Joel likes that you're challenging him.

You feel his hand move from your chest down between you again, and you can't stop the sudden gasp that escapes you as you feel the pad of his thumb press down on your clit, rolling over it slowly.

"You do now," Joel says, raising a single eyebrow as he smirks at you, your eyes widening at the feeling of his finger drawing steady circles over your sensitive bud.

Fuck this, you think to yourself. You need Joel to move.

"P–please," you stutter out as Joel's finger speeds up, and his chest rumbles as he chuckles deeply.

"Please what, sweetheart?" Joel hums, and you give him a look, eyes flashing with slight frustration at his insistence, which makes him smirk wider, eyes knowing as he waits for you.

"Please move, Joel," you let out in a breath, "Please just fuck me,"

"Atta girl," he says finally, and then, Joel releases his grip on your hips.

It isn't gentle, and it isn't slow; your hips stutter, and he thrusts up to meet them as he pulls you down on him over and over again at a fast pace. Your brow creases as your eyes shut, arms wrapped around Joel's shoulders as you push yourself up and down his cock desperately, the feeling of him filling you repeatedly almost too good for words. Joel isn't holding back anymore, either, and both of his hands are on your hips, pulling you down onto him just as hard and as desperate as your own movements.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you let out in small breaths, "God, Joel,"  

The noises Joel is making under you are downright sinful. Deep throaty grunts with every thrust, like music to your ears, as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him as you move in a rhythm.

"Shit, baby. . . that's right," he mutters, before moving one of his hands to run over your cheek, fingers burying into the hair at the nape of your neck, face so close to yours he's practically grunting into your mouth, "Feels so fucking good. . . pussy s'made for me,"

"It's all for you, Joel," you bring out between moans as he pushes up into you, "Fuck, oh god,"

The feeling of Joel is beyond words; you feel every vein, every ridge as he slides in and out of you, tip repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you, that makes your vision spotty. You're almost ashamed to say it doesn't take long before you feel yourself getting close, and when Joel's thumb presses over your clit again, rolling in slow circles, you find yourself tipping over the edge again.

"That's right," Joel whispers against your lips and you moan into his mouth, legs shaking from your orgasm.

You know he isn't far behind you, either, by the way his thrusts are caught between speeding up and slowing down. His breath becomes shallower as his fingers dig into the flesh of your waist. As your walls flutter around him, you lean down, lips grazing from the corner of his mouth across his jaw and towards his ear.

"Come on, baby," you let out, your tone between breathy and sultry as you use the nickname he'd been using all night on you, "Want to feel you coming inside me, Joel,"

"Fuck, yeah?" Joel groans as he hears you let out another moan in his ear, your orgasm only just subsiding, "Fuck, shit. . . I'm coming,"

Your name falls over Joel's lips in a faltering breath as his hips stutter. His brow creases suddenly as his eyes press shut, before he buries his mouth against your shoulder, teeth nudging against your skin. His arms tightens around your naked chest as you feel him twitch against you, Joel's hips suddenly pressing against you so desperately he nudges something inside you that makes you whimper.

"Fuck–ah!" Joel lets out, followed by a whimpering groan against your ear as his teeth sink further into your shoulder, "Shit. . . sweetheart, ooh, fuck!"

He comes hard inside of you, no sounds filling your ears but his blissed out, whimpering moans for a second, which gradually turn into pants as his forehead comes down to rest on your shoulder, his breath against your skin.

Trying to compose yourself, you take your own regular breaths as your heart rate slows down. 

"Jesus," Joel whispers to himself as he looks up from your shoulder. Then he's facing you again, looking into your eyes as you chuckle slightly, still trying to catch your own breath.

"Good enough for you?" you joke as you raise an eyebrow, and Joel gives you a look, before his forehead falls against yours. 

"Sweetheart," he grumbles jokingly, his arms tightening around you as his eyes close and he lets out a contented breath, "I'm going to need you to do that like, 10 more times,"

You can't stop the small laugh that crosses your lips as you lean forwards and kiss him. When you pull away, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth, which makes him groan deep in his chest as you pull away with a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.

"I think I can do that," 

writing this took it out of me, so reactions are sooo appreciated and feedback is more than welcome ღ k

a special shoutout is owed to @cutetomholland for her incredible help proofreading, so say thank you otherwise ya'll would be reading some straight shit teehee

#i hope people like this ahhhh #sponsored by joel miller brainrot™ #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.1 (final)

w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one

a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!

cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!

Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.

He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.

Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.

You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.

It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.

Oh, a new post.

You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.

Interesting.

Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.

You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 

You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 

You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.

“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.

Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.

Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 

The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”

About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 

“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.

“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 

Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.

“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 

“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.

“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”

He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”

Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.

“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.

“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 

You were born at night, but not last night.

“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 

“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.

“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”

“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”

“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”

“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.

“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.

“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.

“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.

“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 

“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.

“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“P-please, t-touch me.”

“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.

“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.

Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.

“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.

You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.

“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.

“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”

“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.

He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.

“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 

“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 

“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 

You nod. 

“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.

You smile. 

Big.

“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.

“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 

You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.

“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”

“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.

“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 

He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.

“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.

“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.

“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 

You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 

“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.

“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.

“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.

“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.

“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 

“G-green,�� you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 

“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.

“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.

“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.

“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 

“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”

Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 

“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.

“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 

“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.

“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.

“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 

“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 

“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.

“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 

But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 

He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 

“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”

“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”

“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 

“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.

“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.

“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 

“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.

“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.

“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”

“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 

Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.

“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”

“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.

“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”

“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”

The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.

He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.

“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.

“If I believe in love.”

“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 

There is none.

“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.

c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry edward style #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #Harry x you #Harry x reader

[yellowharrington]

all i really want (is you) -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: 3k

warnings: smut! 18+, minors pls dni. afab!reader with pullable hair, no use of y/n. light daddy kink and dom/sub undertones. spanking, exhibitionism, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv + creampie, reader and carmy both drink alcohol. please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: this is depraved. thanks @wtfsteveharrington for reigniting my need to write about carmy lmao. title is from "all i really want is you" by the marias. please leave comments or reblogs if you liked it <3

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: carmy secretly books a lake-front hotel room in chicago for your anniversary.

Carmy would be the first to admit he’s not very good at being romantic.

He forgets, lets things slip through the cracks, time and time again. He makes up for it, and you understand of course, but he’s working on it.

When your anniversary is approaching, he knows he has to make a plan. Busy with the restaurant, the menu, the money - all of it was overwhelming, but your not-so-subtle reminder of the date gave him the idea.

“So…” you had joined him in your shared kitchen, hand brushing through his curls as he slaved over a pan sauce he’d been perfecting.

“Yes?” He wasn’t annoyed - never annoyed, by you - but in the thralls of cooking, nonetheless.

“It’s our anniversary next weekend and I was thinking we’d try out that new restaurant you were talking about. You know… the one that’s suuuuuper hard to get a reservation at?” You smiled coyly as he held out the spoon with the hot liquid on it, wordlessly asking you for a taste-test. 

“Sounds good,” he had remarked, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and returning to the task at hand. “I’ll make a call.”

“Thank you, Carm,” you let your hands roam his clothed back as you feel the sauce between your lips and on your tongue. “That’s delicious.”

He hummed in response, as your hands drifted down to his sides and played at the hem of his t-shirt. “After our anniversary dinner I have a little… present for you.”

Before he could respond, you had slipped away to the bedroom, only flashing him a smirk before closing the door.

The weekend of your anniversary had approached quickly, and Carmy had actually managed to get everything in place. The reservation for dinner was set, his gift burning a hole in his pocket, and thoughts of what your gift to him may entail swirling around in his head. 

You walked out of your shared bedroom, adorning a black dress that hugged your body perfectly. Jewelry to match - done up just right, effortlessly perfect for the occasion. His hand came up to his mouth as he took you in, thanking whatever God above that brought you to him.

“Too much?” You asked, toying with your hair in the mirror and correcting the edge of your lipstick. 

“No,” Carmy answered, coming up behind you in the mirror and admiring your form. “Perfect.”

You felt yourself blush as he took your hand and held it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and pulling you into him. “Ready?” 

~

Dinner came and passed, shared glasses of wine between the two of you as you reminisced about past times together. Carmy had always been shy, but easy to talk to, especially when he had some time to open up. You gave him space to do that - he’d never felt more comfortable with anybody before, somebody he trusted with everything. You listened, told him what he needed to hear when he needed to hear it, and kept him in check all while supporting him from the sidelines and meshing perfectly into his insane life. He was eternally grateful for finding you.

He slides a small box across the table at dinner, and when you open it up, you gasp at what’s inside. A dainty necklace, a glossy “C” hanging on the end of it, where it would sit against your chest. 

You let his deft fingers close the tiny clasp behind your neck, the pendant hanging perfectly, glimmering in the amber candlelight of the restaurant. “You’re gonna make me cry,” you laugh through a watery smile, Carmy’s hand crossing the table to slide into yours. Warm skin against warm skin, you smile at his small display of affection, tilting your glass towards him as he clinked it with yours. 

You notice something might be up when you get back into his car, and he doesn’t take the turn off back to your shared apartment. Instead, he veers off into another lane, holding onto your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze for encouragement. 

You’re down by the water now, making a confused expression at your surroundings. City lights around you, the bustling of other people on dates or nights out, as Carmy pulls into the parking lot of a hotel. 

“What are we doing here?” You look at the people stepping into the hotel lobby, some dressed in clothing that was probably more than your rent. He wordlessly turns off his car and exits through the driver’s side, saying something to the valet before grabbing a bag out of the back seat and rounding back to your side. He opens the door for you and takes your hand, before leading you through the doors and into the grand front lobby.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above as he took your hand and lead you to the front desk, a confused scowl still across your features. The person at the front desk waved you two over, typing something into the computer. “Good evening. Checking in?”

Carmy nods, handing over his ID and credit card before smiling down at you.

“We’re checking in?”

“Happy Anniversary.”

You have to make sure your mouth isn’t hanging open, as Carmy’s coy smile plays along his lips. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you whisper to him, feeling heat spread across your cheeks as you take in your surroundings. Your hand slips into his as you press your cheek to his jacketed shoulder. “Let me show you to your room.”

An elevator ride to the top floor has you antsy, as the attendant opens the door for you to your room. She reveals a lake-front room, with views of the harbour, twinkling lights in the distance reflecting onto the massive floor-to-ceiling window. “Is it to your liking, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto?”

A blush runs up your cheeks as the insinuation. Carmy didn’t correct her, just slipped her a tip and assured her the room was perfect. The door clicked politely behind you as you stepped into the room and kicked off your shoes. You turned around to meet Carmy’s eyes as his expression softened, your hands coming up to cup his face.

“I can’t believe you did this.” You’re breathless, still taking in this grand gesture he’d somehow planned completely behind your back.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, tongue darting between his lips as a strong hand came to overlap yours. 

~

The sun had gone down now, navy sky further illuminating the lights below. Rain slacked against the window, simultaneously hard and soft, the glow of the bedside lamps casting shadows on the walls as you got yourself settled. Carmy had abandoned his jacket and tie, leaving him in a crisp white button-up shirt and black slacks. He was laid back on the bed, one hand behind his head, taking some time to relax.

You dipped into the bathroom, smoothing out your hair and checking your makeup in the mirror. You undid the back of your dress and let it slip down your body into a pool on the tile, revealing the gift you’d picked out for Carmy. A black lace set - cupping your breasts perfectly. Lace panties to match, connected to stockings that came high up on your thighs. 

You stepped out, stocking-clad feet soft against the carpet. Carmy immediately notices, eyes blown wide as he sits up to take you in. 

“Thought you might want your gift now,” you sauntered towards him and met him at the end of the bed, his thighs spread for you to fit between them. His hands immediately came up to touch - to confirm you were real, mostly - because his brain was telling him you weren’t.

You looked down at him, cupping his chin with your hand and the other coming down to his shoulder. Pushing down on him gently, his back hit the mattress, wild eyes not moving off of you for even a second. 

You move to straddle his lap, fingers coming down to start unfurling the buttons on his shirt, revealing the soft skin of his chest. Carmy’s rough, calloused fingertips pressed into the plush skin of your hips, eyes wanting to flutter closed but being too entranced by the sight before him to look away. 

His fiery eyes fell to the swell of your breasts, hands coming up to press and squeeze at the skin there, thumbs ghosting over your hard nipples. You felt your back arch, pressing against his palms, wanting more, as much of him as you could get. 

Carmy’s hands slid down your body to find your clothed core, eliciting a small moan from your lips. You rutted into his hand slightly, feeling his skilful fingers start to work at you over the lace.

You weren’t expecting to give him the upper hand, but it was hard not to submit to his touch - wholly his, looking down at him but still feeling as though he had all the power.

He was sitting up now, pushing your panties to the side and feeling the slick between your folds, maintaining eye contact with you through it all. “Carm,” you panted, strained, embarrassed to be coming apart for him already.

As if he knew, he pulled away, wordlessly bringing his fingers up to your lips. You wrapped your mouth around them, letting your tongue dart between the digits as he wet them with your spit.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, earnest eyes looking up at you, fuzzy around the edges with lust. “My pretty slut, aren’t you?”

“Just for you,” you replied, a smirk on the corner of your lip as he swiftly grabbed your hips and flipped you to have your back on the soft hotel comforter.

He stood before you, giving you a chance to unbutton the rest of his shirt and undo his dress pants, his hand now cradling your chin. You pushed his slacks to the floor, rubbing his thick cock over the fabric of his black boxers. His hand came down to pet your hair, taking a fistful of it at the nape and pulling it back to reveal your shiny lips and eager eyes to him. The pendant he purchased for you glinted in the light.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

His firm hand on the back of your neck was enough to make your cunt weep, even without his touch. “Please, I need your cock. Please.”

“Good girl. Sit up, all fours.”

You quickly found yourself on your knees on the soft bed, as he let his cock free. He pumped it a few times, angling your mouth with his grip to allow it to drop open. He pressed forward, slipping in between your wet lips and eliciting a carnal groan from his throat. You let yourself submit to his face-fucking, using your mouth to get himself off, leaking tip pressing against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, throat constricting, which only emboldened him to continue. Spit escaped the corners of your lips as you took him in, swallowing him down, all while looking up and batting your long lashes at him. 

“Taking it so good,” he remarked, with a particularly long thrust into your throat. Leaning forward, his broad hand found a fistful of your ass, squeezing it before planting a firm spank. A yelp escaped your lips, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the force of him in your throat.  

He pulled you off, cock bobbing between his legs before he smeared the spit that had collected all over your plush lips. “So fucking good for me, baby.”

You smiled triumphantly as he leaned down to kiss you sloppily, mixing your spit with his and taking the time to undo your bra and throw it to the ground. 

You didn’t even mind when he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the stockings and panties off to meet your bra on the floor, surely ripping them. His hands pushed your thighs apart, wet pussy on full display as he dove right in, not giving you even a second to catch your breath.

“Fu-uck,” your voice was hoarse and jagged, his warm tongue feeling like it was everywhere. You squirmed beneath his strong squeeze, forcing your back off the mattress as he licked a broad stripe up your centre and flashed his eyes up at you.

Your eyes were trained on his movements, knowing better than to close them. Your hand came down to his sandy curls, feeling your breath quicken as he suckled on your clit, moving his jaw in such a way that was sending an electrifying pulse up your spine.

He moved one hand from your thigh to circle your entrance with his middle finger, enjoying the way you shuddered at the feeling. “Please,” you begged, watching as he detached his tongue from your clit to simply play with your hole. “Please, I need you inside of me.”

His lips pursed as he waited for you to understand why he wasn’t proceeding. A knowing glance, a sob from you as he teased you. “Are you talking to me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me with your fingers.”

“That’s better.” He plunged into you, thick finger curling inside as you let out a choked sob, your cunt pulsing around him as he moved in and out. His lips attached to your clit once again, sucking and grinding his tongue into you, other hand coming up along your stomach to grab your tit and pinch your nipple.

You rasped his name, throat raw from his previous fucking, letting it pour out of your lips over and over. He lapped at you - feeling every quiver from your pussy and shake of your legs as he continued at a bruising pace, not letting up no matter how much you squirmed beneath him. Still pushing you into the mattress, his own cock rutting against the sheets and growing harder every second that his mouth is on you.

A white-hot feeling spread across the back of your thighs, back arched as you tugged on his hair and met his gaze. He rode out your high with you, letting you gush around his fingers and feeling waves of pleasure rise and fall as your breath steadied. Your chest heaving, sticky with sweat, mascara smeared at the edges as you laid back, feeling Carmy’s fingers pull out and his mouth detach from you.

He found himself between your thighs once more, rock-hard cock sliding between your slick folds to tease your overly sensitive clit. He kissed you, a hunger within him, arms coming up under you to hold you as close as possible. Bare skin against bare skin, his mouth sucking in your bottom lip and biting down slightly, eliciting a smile from you and a depraved moan from your lips.

You reached down between your two bodies and slipped his cock into your ready pussy, swallowing him inside of you and hearing his gasp against your lips at the friction. A shameless grunt as his hips drove into you relentlessly, his curls falling into your face as your head tipped back, letting his mouth attach to the side of your throat and suck a bruise into the soft skin beneath your ear. Your hands found the strong muscles of his back, digging them into his skin and finding your legs wrapping around his middle.

An assaulting pace, languidly in and out of you as you met his eyes, pure lust and fire behind them. You could see the idea flash across his eyes.

He pulled out of you gingerly, as you winced at the loss of contact. He pulled you up with him, towards the windows of the hotel room.

He lightly pushed you against the cold glass, earning a sinful moan from your lips as he took your hands hostage behind your back. The rain still pelted down outside, a symphony against your hard and fast breath.

“Why don’t you show all those people how you like to get fucked, huh? Show them what a slut you are?”

A devilish smile on your lips was met with your cheek against the glass, a broad palm on the opposite side of your face, as his cock slid back into your pussy with ease. Your ass was pushed out for him to land a firm slap on it once again, picking up his pace. His hand came around to push your legs apart, playing with your clit and drawing you close once again, as he released your hands to leave prints on the glass.

“Fill me up, please daddy,” you moaned, letting your head fall slack. “I want you to cum so fucking deep inside of me, fuck,” — another spank, paired with jagged thrusts as Carmy got closer to finishing — “fuck me like you own me, baby.”

“I do own you,” he growled, forehead pressed against your shoulder blades as he felt your pussy clench around him. “Cum baby, cum with all those people fucking watching you.” 

“You own me Carmen, I’m yours.” you chanted, turning around to meet his eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over and jaw hang open as his thrusts slowed, making a mess of your pussy as he came deep inside of you.

Your second orgasm followed soon after, cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you stepped away from the glass, legs unstable as a furious warmth came up over your cheeks.

After getting cleaned up together in the bathroom, he flicked off the light as you turned towards the window. His body pressed up against yours, arm secured around your waist as he peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders, musing about how beautiful you are.

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, another kiss to the outer shell of your ear that made a shiver go up your spine. “I love you more than anything.”

You curled into him and listened to the relaxing rain, his steadying breath and strong arm lulling you safely to sleep.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

[saturnbellfromhell]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS II

So you've seemed to really enjoy my astro oberservations, so today I'm going to do some more! I hope you enjoy and if there's any questions, feel free to ask.

💧5th house stellium

I've noticed these natives don't like to change their routine for anybody. They can come off a little bit selfish because of it. They also like to tell everyone everything about themselves. If they've finished any college, o you will know. There also really into working out, looking good, smelling fresh and love to be noticed, but don't like saying that. They are also very curious about things only they like, if they think what you're talking about is boring to them, they will let you know.

💧 Aphrodite and Saturn in the 1st house

This can be a very complicated placement. In one way the native is considered a beautiful individual, but they themselves cannot see it that way. The glowup will come later in life and the native will have some complications with their skin, weight etc. But it will pass!

💧 Mercury in Aquarius

These people are known to be book worms and love to learn, constitley. But they do have this tick about them where they always think they know the best.

💧 Gemini Moon

They're so fucking funny without even trying, I swear. If you ever want to hear something chaotic, call a Gemini moon. They are the feral club rats and can befriend anyone. But at the same time they maybe have 1 or 2 people they really open up to and tell them how they really feel. I feel like they can be even more detached than Libra and Aquarius moons. They can also be prone to sleeping with someone and than regreating it the next day.

💧Pluto in the 4th house

This can mean a very turbulent family life. A very love-hate relationship with their mother. They maybe didn't grow up with the mother and than reconnected with her later in life. The mother can become very ill later down the line and it falls on their lap, making them have a symbiotic house life. The native takes cares and adores the mother, but the mother also becomes a burden to deal with. These people also have a very strict way at looking at family life, children. They don't relate to people wanting a white picked fance and 4 kids running around the yard. Try to understand these people, they really have a soft spot. .but don't be too aggressive with your questions.

💧Earth Venuses

I think what they all have in common is they're really big pleasers in the bedroom. Quite dominant and right to the point. The guy earth Venuses love to be small spoons when cuddling, but will never ever admit it! The girls are really big sweethearts in private, but seem really cold and profesional outside the house.

💧12 house stellium

I've never met a 12th house stellium person who wasn't the sweetest person ever. They are so down to earth and try to understand all. They are the shoulder to cry on, for sure.

💧 North node in Leo

They love tattoos, standing out, having piercings, having some bold jewelry piece. Having some sort of style everybody wants, but can't recreate. But they deal with some much self doubt at the beginning of their journey. Since their South node is in Aquarius, they are prone to go back to their humanitarian ways, people pleasing etc. It's also tough in relationships, since they feel the need for independence and shinning on their own, but also want to understand their partner and help them. I would recommend them to shift your priorities to bettering yourself, career etc, not other people. It's your time to shine and you deserve it, more than anything!

💧 6 house stellium

They are prone to join the army and actually are really good at it. I mean this this is house of routines and discipline after all.

💧Sagittarius Moon

These people are something, let me tell you that. A Sag Moon is prone to work in other cities or countries. Their mind is very sharp and clean about what they want. I've noticed they can be big loners in their free time. Like they live to be the head of the party, cracking jokes and doing their thing, but in their house they are very reserved and quite. They need to recharge for the day, that's for sure.

💧 Air- Water dominant people

This is very confusing to the native. I mean on one side we have a emotional and semi psychic sign and on the other a rational and mental sign. These people are prone to heavy changing over the years, really stepping into their personality can be difficult and always altered by surroundings and people. They are a little bit bipolar also. Some days they'll want to speak with everybody and party their butt off, the next they want peace and quietness. Sometimes they want to travel the world and others they never want to leave their home. It depends on the day, I guess..

xoxo nk

#astrology observations #astro placements #astrology #zodic signs #zodiac #aste #astro observations

[hypnos333]

Hi! How are you? Hopefully good! I saw that requests are open (for hazbin hotel/helluva at least) and I wanted to send one in if that’s cool with you! Here I go!

Could I request Alastor and Vox (separately) with a GN! Reader who’s like Jeongmin Choi from Dreaming Freedom? I don’t really wanna explain her entire personality so I just added a link so it’s easier that way!

Thank you so much if you do this! Have a good day (:

A/N- I’m sorry I tried my best to fit the description of her

Freedom Dreaming

Alastor:

Charlie first met you when you were quite new to Hell and ever since she found you, you became her most loyal friend. You are a girl with quite only a few words and glare at anybody 6 feet under whoever talks or laughs at Charlie’s ideas.

That’s when you met Alaster, he found you delightful and Charming in your own way.

You can make anything happen just by a dream, A dream into reality and that makes you dangerous. A target at hell that’s why he has his shadow following you around. The last time you went all berserk is when someone was flirting with Alastor so you used your own powers to kill the bitch.

You didn’t think Alastor would noticed but nope he did notice and he found it hot. So he decided to play around with you for a bit.

“Hello my dear! I was wondering if you have seen the new resident? What was her name? Ah yes Bonnie” He asked you making your eye twitch in annoyence making you wonder why he’s asking about her

“Sadly I haven’t seen her Alastor maybe she just left feeling pressured for doing so much for just redemption” You stated without looking from your book. He raised an eyebrow at you at your smart excuse before seeing your frustration making him smile even more.

“Ah I see, You seemed to know a lot more than your saying my dear” Alastor commented making you huff putting your book down.

“What’s the need of needing her now, Alastor?” You questioned before walking away but before you can do that he grabbed your hand pulling you back towards him.

“My dear, it was all jokes but I must say jealousy does suit you” He smirk making you roll your eyes in disbelief. “I do wonder what happened to Miss. Bonnie?” He asked making you finally give in as you pulled him down to kiss you.

but before he could react you pulled away “Are you done talking about the bitch now? I think she knew what she was doing when she was flirting with you” You said making him hide his blush at your bold statement and action.

“My dear we’re far from talking about her now, it’s just us now”

“Just us alone?”

“Of course My Dear, just us alone” He replied leaning down for another kiss.

Vox:

You glare at Valentino as he hid behind your Fiancé, Vox raised his eyebrows at you two before seeing you genuinely angry. “My Darling What has you so angry” He asked you making you continue to glare at Valentino.

“I saw him hitting Angel dust making him bruised” You huffed before finally lunging at Valentino making Vox hold you back as Valentino screeched in shock. “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH” You yelled at him eyes pure black before Vox carried you out the house.

“My Darling no offense but please calm the hell down, you gonna make all hell scared of you” Vox stated calmly.

This reminds him of himself when he has tantrums way too much now he sees how you feel during those. You continued to scream curses at Valentino making sure he hears you loud and clear.

He moved you to both yours bedroom moving you to your bed, “Vox-“Shh baby let us just lay here for a second” He interrupts you making you huff in frustration. You wrapped your arms around his neck anyway ms as he hugged your waist.

“I’m not gonna forget what he did, I’m actually gonna kill him” You stated making him chuckle.

“I’m sure he deserves it anyways baby” He stated with you. Putting his hands under your shirt before rubbing your back making you even more calm than usual.

“Your trying to distract me” You stated knowing he is because everytime your mad at Valentino or Velvette he would do more physical touch either in public or not. You loved his touch maybe that’s why it was easy for you to calm down usual you’ll use your lucid dreaming by now.

“It’s work isn’t it?” He smirked making you blush before sighing still thinking about your friend making Vox frown.

“I’ll tell Valentino to not hit his clients but I can’t guarantee it my darling” Vox mumbled making you smile again. He noticed it making him glad you’re happy again.

“Really? Thank you so much baby!” You said excitedly kissing him all over his face making him love the attention and affection.

“I’ll do anything for you absolutely anything” He said before kissing your lips before pulling you closer.

#vox x reader #alastor x demon reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you

[specialagentlokitty]

Arthur x reader - our secret

Can you do Arthur with Merlin’s sister who also has magic and uses it to save him and he keeps her secret because he cares about her.🙃🙂 - @faithm120601 💜

Running through the hallways, you were cursing your brother out for making you do this.

You didn’t want to be a part of anything, but he made a good point of Arthur probably had no idea about the intruders, and that somebody had to warn him but it was too last.

Since Merlin could keep them back a little and use his magic without Arthur being there, he then left telling the prince of Camelot to you.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” Leon asked.

“Intruders at the front! Merlin trying to hold them off!” You called.

“What?!”

“Go! I’ll tell Prince Arthur!”

Leon nodded his head and ran in the direction you had just come from while you carried on your route.

You were close, just a few more hallways and you were be there.

Running around the final one, you stopped to take a few breaths, walking over to the doors where there were supposed to be guards.

But there were none and that put you on edge as you approached the large doors.

You could hear the signs of struggling, and you peaked through the gap in the door.

You could see anything, but you could tell there was a fight going on inside, so, cautiously you opened the door a bit more so you could slip in.

Arthur was in there, pinned to the wall, struggling to hold back the sword that was against his neck.

You didn’t know what to do, and in your panic of not wanting to let him die, you raised your hands, eyes turning gold as you whispered something under your breath.

You threw your hand to the side, and the attacker went flying on the floor.

Quickly you lowered your hand and hid yourself behind a cabinet.

“Who’s there?” Arthur called.

He looked around, but couldn’t see anybody.

He couldn’t search the room, he needed to deal with the attacker.

After a few moments you stood up.

“Sire, there’s been intruders, Sir Leon has been told and he has gone to my brother who is at the front of the castle with them.” You said.

Arthur looked at you, then the unconscious man on the floor.

“I think the warning came a bit too late.” He snapped slightly.

“I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could.”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, who else has been told?”

“King Uther, as well as the other guards.” You explained.

Arthur slowly nodded his head, narrowing his eyes at you a little bit.

He carried on binding the man so he couldn’t break free, and began to slowly move around the room.

You watched him carefully, making sure that he was okay.

Seeing movement behind him you looked at it.

“Arthur behind you!”

He wasn’t going to be able to turn around quick enough, you saw that.

So, you did the one thing you’re good at.

Using your magic, you used it to throw a book at the man, and you quickly put your hands behind your back.

“You have magic?!” Arthur hissed.

You said nothing.

He marched over to you, standing right in front of you, sword still clutched tightly in his hands.

“Please don’t tell my brother… or Gaius…” you whispered.

He furrowed his brows.

“They don’t know?”

You sighed, looking at him, shaking your head a little bit.

“No, I knew what would happen to me if anybody found out, I never wanted to bring them into that. They know nothing of it.”

Arthur looked a little confused.

“You know what will happen to you but still you chose to use magic in front of me? Why?”

You gave Arthur a little smile.

“Because you’re the prince, it may not be my duty to protect you, but you were in danger. I would do it over again, between you dying to some intruders, and me being executed for using magic, I guess the choice is as simple as any.”

“You were the one behind the defence last week, aren’t you? Bandits suddenly disappear, what did you do with them?”

“I am, but they didn’t get hurt. I simply trapped them in a different part of the valley to you is all. Then scared them away.”

Arthur slowly nodded his head.

“Why will you not run away?”

“What’s the use? You already know, I knew what my fate would be when I made that choice sire, why run?”

He looked at you and you smiled at him.

“Please Sire, Merlin and Gaius may be confused, but don’t tell them. Tell them I left, I had to go home, I’ll write a note, it’ll be easier on them.”

Arthur sighed softly, nodding his head.

“Of course, I’m sorry it has to come to this.” He said quietly.

You smiled slightly.

“It’s okay.”

You both turned to the door as it was opened, and Uther came rushing in with some guards.

You bowed your head in respect, stepping away from the Prince.

You listened to them as they talk, but stayed lost in your own mind at the same time, not really taking the words in.

You were trying to think of what would happen to your brother, your best friend, you just wanted at least for him to be okay.

“You did this?”

You snapped out of your head, turning to the king, nodding your head.

“Yes sire, I did.”

He looked at you, walking closer.

“You brought down a fully grown man? How?”

You went to speak, but Arthur beat you too it.

“She threw the book! She has a good throw from what I saw.”

Uther turned to his son.

“Threw a book?”

Arthur quickly picked up the book you had used your magic on, and set it down on the cabinet.

“I see.”

Uther turned to you.

“In that case, thank you. I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn’t of come.”

“You needn’t thank me. I would do the same again if I had to.”

Uther smiled a little.

“That’s reassuring to hear, I will have these two taken out and guards placed at the door, more this time. Find somebody to clean this up.”

“I will do it Sire, I’m here already.”

He nodded and left, and you began to clear up the mess that had been made in the room.

After a few minutes when you were sure everybody was gone, you glanced up at Arthur who was just about to leave the room.

You decided not to bring it up there, so you waited.

Maybe he was still going to tell his father, but over the next few days nothing happened.

You found the Prince stood near some shelves, so you walked over, pretending to clean them.

“Sire?”

“Yes?”

Arthur turned to look at you.

“Why haven’t you told anybody?”

“Why would I?”

You glanced at him before turning away.

“You saved my life, I owe you that much to do the same to you at least. But you need to promise me no more.” He whispered.

You slowly shook your head.

“I can’t make that promise, I would do it again if I had to.”

“Then you risk being exposed, please, no more (Y/N)…”

You sighed, turning your attention to him.

“Okay…”

He smiled, looking around before he stepped closer.

“Thank you..”

With that, he brushed his hand against yours as he left with a little smile on his face, and you smiled as well, know at least for now everything was going to be okay.

But who knew what the future would bring

#bbc Merlin #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin x you #bbc Merlin imagine #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon x reader #Arthur pendragon x you

[thewonyoungeffect]

how to achieve the “wonyoung” aesthetic !!

people make it seem like you have to wake up super early, eat entirely healthy, have a really long workout routine to have the wonyoung aesthetic, but i’m here to tell you that is not the case at all !! wonyoungism is basically just being your best self like wonyoung, not being wonyoung.

PART 1: MENTALLY

to really get into the wonyoung effect, you have to work on your mental state!! i’ll show you some ways to start thinking positive and such !!

• DECLUTTER: go through your phone and just delete anybody who you don’t talk to anymore, if they don’t benefit you, are toxic, something like that, delete them

• YOU FIRST: start putting yourself first, learn how to say no, set boundaries, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or treat you how they wanna treat you.

• JOURNALING: try journaling, you can experiment with journaling in an attempt to get to know yourself better like your strengths, weaknesses, values, etc !! if you don’t like journaling, you can try different hobbies to see what you like and don’t like to do !!

• CONFIDENCE: work on your confidence, you can do this by experimenting with different styles (if you wear things you like, it can help you gain confidence), have friends that are confident and positive, and try stepping out of your comfort zone (this one isn’t easy so take your time with it)

• YOU TIME: start making days to just hang out with yourself !! you can do anything (movies, food, books) anything that makes you happy !! hanging out with yourself can help you understand who you are inside :)

(if you need anymore advice about this topic, feel free to ask me in my inbox or my comments💗)

PART 2: PHYSICALLY

if you wanna glow up physically, this is the section for you !!

•DRINK WATER: i cannot stress this enough, please drink water !! not only is it good for you but it has MANY benefits .. (eg: clearer skin, flushes out bad bacteria in your body and bladder, regulates your body temperature, and more) if you don’t like drinking water, you can try getting a cirkul water bottle or something like that, it’s water but it taste like juice and they have many different flavors!! my favorite is fruit punch !!!

if you cant afford that, you can just try adding fruit to your water (i suggest lemon)

• SKINCARE: skincare is important, no you don’t need a twenty step routine!! all you need is cleanser, moisturizer, and some sunscreen !!

DISCLAIMER: dont just go buying any skincare because the label is pretty, it might not suit your skin, figure out your skin type and buy items that suit your skin type.

make sure you do your skincare both day and night, it’s okay if you forget, we aren’t robots, we don’t need to be perfect everyday !!

first you cleanse (at least sixty seconds, helps remove dirt in your skin), rinse and then put your moisturizer (helps keep your skin soft and hydrated), then you put your sunscreen (helps protect your skin from skin cancer, sunburn, aging, etc)

• HYGIENE: along with skincare, it is important to shower regularly!! make sure you get all the important spots , and this is optional, but you can get some body scrubs to exfoliate your skin!!

(i made a similar post about this next section titled “how to look your best at school” it basically just covers all of this, but i’m gonna go over it again!!)

• HAIR: try a new hairstyle!! it can really enhance your look, you can try and find some that fit your face shape better or just try any !! it’s your life :)

STYLE: find your style, find out what clothes suit you, what clothes you like, your aesthetic !! don’t forget accessories :)

that’s all i have for now, i can make in depth blogs about any of these topics, feel free to ask‼️

#cottage core #kpop #pink #wonyoungism #pretty #beautiful #thewonyoungeffect #viral #self concept wonyoung #motivation

[nut4shuri]

ARGUMENT'S

(18+)

(Letitia Wright x Reader)

(short)

Warning's : ⚠️Some SMUT and Provocative Language Used⚠️

~

"You let that fucking dipshit touch you!" She screams at you from across the room.

"I told him to stop"

"ODVIOUSLY HE DIDN'T GET THE FUCKING MIMO YOU IDIOT!"she freezed up as she realized she had gone to far.

You turn and look at her with wide eyes as you take your pocket book and throw it her way.

"Who the fuck are you talking to!"

All this started because the interviewer during your interview he had gotten a little touchy and Letitia didn't like that.

Even after you told him on numerous occasions that you weren't looking for a relationship or anything and that you've already found your "somebody"

And Letitia had gotten upset and begin screaming at you,calling you all types of names even when you tried to apologize.

And and something had made you think it must have been all the pressure she was under lately but you realized

....

Normally you and Letitia don't argue.

You don't speak to her all day.

You don't give her her morning breakfast..😏

You dress more provocative..even when she orders you to change.

You call her by her first name.

You purposely tick her off all throughout the day.

When she talks to you she never looks at you but keeps her shades on and looks forward. (Cause she knows its one of your pet peeves)

But even though shes angry she never fails to treat you like the princess you are.

She still opens doors,and closes them.

She kisses you good bye and never forgets to say "i love you".

She has a sad look in her eye's as if she's sorrowful but her ego won't let up.

"Letitia you where spacing out the whole interview,what's up?"

"Me and Y/N had an argument and im kinda regretting it.."

If it got to much,or went on for two long she would try to ease her way into your good graces.

"Look baby im sorry.."

"I fucked up please baby talk to me."

"Please."

But the sex yall have after yall make up is unholy asf.

As soon as she gets tired of the utter silence she pulls you to the side and give you a full on SPEECH apology.

She gets really rough becayse shes so hungry for your touch.

She eats you out till and says "im sorry" each time after you cum.

She tells you how much she love you,whispering sweet nothing in your ears as her strap drills in and out of you.

"Im sorry baby fuckk"she screams as she slides her wet pussy over yours.

"Fuck baby its to much" you say trying your hardest to push her head away or stop her movments but she dosent budge.

"But i really want you to forgive me."she says as digs her fingers deeper into you.

After Hours of her Fucking You.

She bathes you.

She helps you clean around the house.

She takes you out to your favorite restaurant.

She buys you flowers,LOTS OF FLOWERS.

She does not keep her hands and eyes off of you.

You have her full undivided attention.

She takes you to the mall,and lets you max out her card.

You two sit and laugh about how stupid the fight was.

" We should fight more often." She says winking at you.

🤍jay:if anybody asks..i didn't write this.📌

#i love shuri #letitia wright #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #princess shuri #mywifeee #that makeup sex was some serious

[wol-fica]

-𝐖𝐨𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐞?- 𝐏𝐓𝟐

pairings - wenclair x neglected!daughter!reader

summary - you were born into a family of freaks, and that was the norm for you. but slowly, your interest in your family diminished due to lack of attention towards you. how will you cope?

warnings - none

an - part two for those who were waiting!!

————————

“So wait, you saw Goody? Our grandmother?”

You sighed in annoyance at your brother's tone, your head hanging low as he rambled on about the events that occurred in the café minutes ago. Luka and his friends had watched you bump into a jockey werewolf and then when you apparently fainted; their first reaction was to grab you and bring you to the infirmary, now here you were.

“I already told you.” You said, sipping a cup of water while you flipped through the spell book lazily, “I blacked out, an old house appeared, I saw Goody, and then I woke up here.”

“That sounds familiar…” Luka inquired slowly, gauging your reaction.

Your head turned to him, a murderous glow in your eyes as you glared harshly. You sat up carefully, staring him into a cowered sitting position.

“I am not having visions, I refuse to accept that.” You growled before standing up sharply and walking out of the blaring-white room.

You stormed down the hallway, ignoring Luka’s protests as he jogged behind you. Your mind was racing a mile a minute at the possibilities of you now figuring out that you have visionary powers which were probably inherited from your dear mother; that disgusted you.

“Mamá es va a averiguarla!” Luka said, getting in front of you to stop you from walking away, “Ella no es tonto.”

“Si, ella no es tonto.” You replied, yanking your belongings out of his hands, “Pero tú no decir nada.”

Luka stared at you, almost as a silent game to see if he would actually say something or not. Black eyes challenged bright blue, the quiet contest becoming tedious for both of you as people passed with confused looks on their faces.

Eventually you caved in, looking away with a slump of your shoulders. You couldn’t argue with Luka, he would always wiggle his way to winning any fight, and he would always gloat about it to his friends when you were both younger.

“Luka.” You sighed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and turning your head back up to his gaze, “Please, don’t tell them.”

“Why though?” He pressed, leaning down so he could speak quietly, “You need help.”

“I don’t need anything.” You snarled as you pushed past him, “You need to let me go back to my room.”

“Y/N I know those visions hurt.” Luka tried again, following you up the stairs and towards your dorm room.

You muttered an insult under your breath, swearing to whatever higher power above that you would curse Luka into his early grave for being so persistent with you. His rambling became background noise in your ears as you moved around your room, setting your stuff down and safely tucking the book back under your pillow before stopping to angrily turn back to your brother.

“Listen,” You said, crossing your arms in front of your chest to appear bigger, “These visions, the voices; they are my problem.”

Luka opened his mouth to speak but you shushed him with a hand to say that you weren’t finished.

“You will keep quiet, you won’t tell anybody about the things that are happening to me. Our mothers are busy enough with Louis and Leo AND with planning for parents' weekend in a few days; they don’t need more stress.”

Luka’s eyebrows furrowed, his face scrunching in confusion.

“Y/N, you aren’t a stresser for them.” He said softly, reaching out to put his hands on your shoulders, “They love you.”

“They don’t act like it.” You snapped, shrugging him off and looking away in embarrassment.

To be truthful, you felt very neglected within your family. Between you and your three other siblings, you were seen as the least favorite. Luka, Louis, AND Leo all successfully wolfed out when Luka was 10 and the twins were 7, which prompted a celebration with your large family circle. Everyone came from both sides to congratulate the three of them with gifts and music and dancing. 

Unfortunately for you, barely anyone paid you any attention. The most that anyone said to you was “are you next to wolf out?” or “i’m sorry you didn’t catch up with your brothers” and even “maybe you are defected!”

Emotional demonstration wasn’t your strong point, but when those phrases were said to you, well it hurt. You wanted so badly to fit into the little werewolf circle that was in your home, but you never got the pleasure of getting that trait from your mom. 

Instead you were left with voices in your head and absolutely no special abilities at all. You younger brothers, bless them, would always rub it in that you were quote on quote “defective” and would constantly pick on you for not having the wolfish attributes that they possessed. 

“You don’t know what it’s like.” You started, stepping away from Luka to pace around your room, “I have to wake up everyday to feel like I’m nothing.”

“But you are something!” Luka said, reaching out to grab your hand, “You’re my twin sister-.”

Your eyes went wide and rolled, your head flying backwards at his touch. A loud bell chime again, ringing in your ear as it drowned out all comprehension of the real world. 

Flashes occurred, pictures caught in time as people laughed and talked, then screamed. There was fire, pooling and lapping up at peoples legs as they ran in fear, and at the center of the chaos was…

You. 

What was happening to you?

—————————

taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever  @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg @notheoneforlove @frasersgf

#wolfi writes #wednesday adams imagine #wednesday adams #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #incorrect wednesday quotes #netflix wednesday #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday fanfic #wednesday fic #wednesday fluff #wednesday headcanons #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday tv show #wednesday x y/n #wednesdayedit #wednesdaynetflix #wednsday addams #wim series

[dangerouslypassiveaggressive]

A Terribly Organized Almost-Essay About Suzanne Collins and Why I Think She Writes

Lukewarm take because it's been years, but here it goes: if there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that Suzanne Collins is not a people pleaser. (The author, at least. I don't know her personally lol). And she be pleasing the people, that's not what I mean! I just kept hearing the same question being asked over and over again. "Why Snow? Why him?? Why not anybody else? Really?? A prequel about HIM??" It really made me think.

And don't get me wrong! I'd slash someone's tires for a Finnick prequel just like the next person (Suzanne please!), but that has never been the point of her writing. The Hunger Games novels, and by extension, the prequel book The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, aren't just fun fiction reads. Yeah, they're gripping. The world-building is superb. Young people are at the center of it. And all these characteristics are great, but the thing that draws us in, that keeps us consuming her media like hungry little caterpillars, is that they are, time and time again, a captivating and accurate criticism, analysis, and deconstruction of the broken systems society experiences in the real world. I can only speak from my own experience as a Mexican American woman in the United States, so take all of this with a grain of salt.

The Capitol is colorful and fun and interesting and horrible and sadistic. And it is all those things because it is a symbol of our own real-world 1%, except our own glittering Capitol members here in the real world feed us the hope that we may reach their status if we only work hard enough for long enough. The Hunger Games system never makes that claim. In fact, they are fed the narrative that the system only works because they're stuck where they are. Suzanne Collins is taking everything one step further in her writing because it is a type of satire, a critique of the things we already know. So as an author, she blows it out of proportion so that her reader will say "look at this! How ridiculous! How would someone let the system treat them this way!" And it is ridiculous, it's downright laughable that an entire society, an entire country, would let itself be oppressed in such a cruel way by just a few people in charge instead of rising up and- oh wow, yeah, I see it. She wrote about us.

Suzanne Collins just organized everything neatly into boxes- well, districts. Because every district comes with some form of product that they manufacture, but much more importantly: a class. We go in order from 1-13. District 1 manufactures luxury items and District 2 makes weapons (but mostly trains Peacekeepers), so they have the most privilege and wealth. On the other end, Districts 11 and 12 are the agricultural and coal mining districts, respectively. That's back-breaking work. Not to mention District 11 puts kids as young as 12 to work, and District 12 is poverty-stricken and starving. "But what about District 13?" You may ask, "They make nuclear weapons! Why aren't they up there with 2?" Fantastic question. If we know, and the people of Panem know, that the hierarchy is very clearly set by literal number order, why would one of the most powerful and competent districts be given more power and be put at the top? Placing them at the end lets them believe that they aren't powerful or competent. I mean, jeez, look at 12 and they're before 13? I wouldn't believe I could make it on my own either. (We know now that's not how things go down, but it's a clever power move regardless.)

But after all this, would it hurt Suzanne to give us a single book just for fun?

Yes, I believe it would, that's the whole point. We're not meant to fall for the Peeta/Katniss/Gale love triangle. We're not meant to be interested in Finnick's secrets and early life. We're not meant to want to know the morbid details of how Haymitch won his Games (with double the contestants! Ooh. Aah.) We're meant to be horrified at every turn, at every story. We're meant to ask ourselves how things got so bad, how anyone let this happen. Suzanne Collins has written wonderfully fleshed out characters that grip us and make us want to know more, but the point has never been them or even their loved ones. It was never about Katniss or Prim or Peeta or Finnick or Annie. It's always been about the systems that let this story happen, and where Suzanne got her inspiration: the very real lives we lead. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes shows us the same thing.

So why Coriolanus Snow? Because he is the catalyst to a broken system that only serves the powerful. If Suzanne were to write a novel about any of our much more beloved characters, then she would be writing the exact same book over and over about the same oppression happening in the same system. She does not write for the sake of bringing her very well-written characters to life, but to flesh out the poverty, the starvation, the power struggles, the horrors they experience. We know this because she writes a lot of her characters as symbols. (Coin, for instance, as the symbol for a power-hungry figurehead, or Prim as the innocent during war.)

Snow is living in a slightly different biome than what we know from The Hunger Games series. He has to make sacrifices and decisions for him and his family, but it's different. It is a view and critique from the inside looking in. This is not Katniss getting to experience the Capitol for the first time and understanding just how terribly unfair everything is. This is someone who is very aware of the way things work and playing the game to stay in power and keep their privilege. Not only that, but it's someone who feels entitled to all of it. In this novel, Suzanne plays around with power and people's position in it. What if a mad scientist was in charge? What if the creator of the thing that brought a semblance of peace was just as horrified as the reader? How far is one person willing to go for power? What if we saw the dawn of a world we're already familiar with?

So I hope she keeps writing, because I love seeing our world through her eyes and the parallels she writes from our world to hers of the injustices happening every day. Even though we'll probably never get the stories we crave, but that's okay. Keep putting those kids through hell, Suzanne.

#tbosas #The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes #books #The Hunger Games #Suzanne Collins #reading #author #essay #spoilers #THG #tbosas spoilers #thg spoilers #i didnt have a great ending or conclusion for this my bad #i just have a lot of thoughts #finnick odair #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #primrose everdeen #coriolanus snow #president snow #district 12 #catching fire #dangerouslypassiveaggressive

[freshlove-sturn]

HELP ME OUT? PT 4

pt 1 p2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt 6 pt7 pt8

chris sturniolo x fem reader

pink- reader

orange- chris

blue- matt

purple- nick

summary: chris is falling behind in english. he knows he has to get in grade in check before his big lacrosse game, or else coach will bench him. so what better idea than to reach out to the smart girl who sits in front of him in class? after all, it's just a little help... right?

a/n: i did little to no research on lacrosse for this. please don’t judge me 😭

readers pov

the first bell rang through my ears and i walk down the crowded hall to my locker. a group of freshmen boys were laughing obnoxiously. blissfully unaware of me standing there, waiting for a chance to get in my locker. i muttered a few ‘excuse me’s’. none of which they heard.

“move.” i hear a voice behind me. the flock of boys hurrying away.

i turn around and see chris standing there, watching as the boys disappear down the hall. after a few seconds, he looks back down at me. the blue eyes that i’ve been craving to catch since the second he left my house last night. i was sure that the shade of blue was my new favorite color.

“thanks.” i smile.

“no problem. they’re on the jv lacrosse team. they’re painfully oblivious to their surroundings.” he laughs. god i loved that laugh.

“this is an every day occurrence” i say, quickly putting in my combo and opening my locker.

“it won’t happen anymore.” my face grows hot again. i knew for sure my face had just changed 7 shades redder.

“oh my hero!” i clutch my chest jokingly.

“yeah yeah. speaking of lacrosse, are you coming to the game friday?” he asks as i grab my books from my locker.

“i thought you said your big game was next friday?” i furrow my brows.

“well yeah. the big game is next friday. but there’s also a game this friday.” he grabs my books from me, placing them under his arm. he did it like it was second nature.

“oh. i wasn’t really planning on going, no” i reply. trying to act cool. shutting my locker door slowly.

“why not?”

“i don’t understand lacrosse. and i don’t really even know anybody who plays. well, besides you obviously” we start walking down the hallway to english. so close that our arms occasionally brush against each other as we step.

“aw look who needs a tutor now.” he teases. bumping into me gently.

“oh hush.” i roll my eyes. a smile playing at my lips.

“you should come.” he suggests.

“i don’t know.” i respond. looking down at my shoes.

“please” he begs. “for me?”

i swore i felt my heart do a flip in my chest. “fine.” i try masking my excitement. he grind. chris sturniolo wanted me to come watch him play lacrosse.

“sick. how about today instead of you teaching me english, i teach you some lacrosse, help you out for once, yeah?” he grins. he makes it almost impossible to say no.

“chris you need to be studying for this test.” i try reasoning with him. honestly, i just wanted to listen to him talk more.

“come on y/n. let’s take a break from the books today and have fun” we enter our classroom. taking our seats. he places my books down on my desk. but instead of taking his usual seat behind me. he sits down right next to me.

“okay fine.” i cave.

“hell yeah. i’ll come pick you up after practice. is that cool?” he smiles.

“that’s cool.” i smile back at him.

chris pov

as soon as practice ended i i couldn’t get in the van fast enough.

“we’re picking up y/n” i tell matt as soon as he gets in.

“what? since when? i thought i was dropping you off at her house?” he questions, throwing his year in the back.

“we’re gonna hang out at our house tonight. i’m gonna teach her the basics of lacrosse. she’s coming to the game friday.” i explain.

he wiggles his eyebrows at me. he doesn’t say anything, but i know exactly what he’s thinking.

“matt it’s not like that. we’re just friends.” which wasn’t a lie. we were just friends. i just so happened to think about her every second since he sat a foot in front of me rambling on and on about shakespeare and how beautiful his work is. she was a whole hell of a lot smarter than me. i liked it. i admired her for her intelligence. it’s like she knew everything. the one thing she didn’t know? i was falling for her. scarily fast.

we arrive at y/ns house. i get out of the van and walk up to her front door. knocking a few times. she opens the door.

“hi.” a big smile plastered across her face. i loved when she smiled. the way her eyes squinted. the way her cheeks looked so full. the kind that grandmas squeeze and pinch and tell you about how adorable you are.

“hey.” i smile back at her.

we walk out to the van. i open the door for her and climb in behind her. sitting in the seat next to her rather than the passenger seat. the seat i claimed as my own since the second matt got his license. the seat i never left. just so she didn’t feel lonely. and also because i just wanted to be close to her. her sweet perfume filled my nose. it was like a warm vanilla. like fresh baked cookies. sweet.

the drive to my house was fairly quiet. just meaningless small talk like ‘how are you’ ‘good. you?’. the works. when the car stops and matt throws it in park. i get out. holding the door open for her again. i go around to the trunk and grab my duffel bag and all my lacrosse gear and lead her out to my backyard.

“here. put this on.” i hand her my helmet.

“what?” she blurts out.

“put it on.” i gesture down at the helmet. making motions with my hands, acting like i was putting a helmet on myself.

“i thought you were just gonna tell me about lacrosse?” she giggles. my helmet still in her hands.

“oh we’re playing. i want you to get the full experience. i’m showing you how it’s done.” i smirk.

i walk closer to her, taking the helmet from her hands. i gently brush her hair out of her face and slide the helmet on over her head. she doesn’t say anything. she just looks up at me. her cheeks turning bright pink. i carefully strap up the chin strap. adjusting it accordingly. once i get it all sorted out, we just stare at each other. not saying a word. we didn’t need to.

i hand her my stick. “here’s this too.”

she takes the stick from my hands. our finger tips grazing each other. it felt like electricity shooting down my spine.

something about her being in my lacrosse gear made me feel on top of the world. i couldn’t stop smiling at her.

“lookin good y/l/n” i try to sound as casual as possible.

“thanks.” she peers up at me through the cross bars on the helmet. a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“so basically the object of the game is well, scoring more points than the other guys.” i explained half assed. i couldn’t explain things with the same flow as she could.

she laughs at my bluntness “kinda just like every other sport?”

“besides golf.” i retort.

“besides golf.” she repeats.

“you can use your stick to catch and pass and stuff. and you can use it to get the ball away from the other team.” she looks at me intently. taking in everything i was saying.

“here. catch this” i toss a ball to her.

she catches the ball with her hands. i laugh and roll my eyes. “with the stick, goof.”

“oh right” she laughs and tosses the ball back to me.

i throw the ball to her again. she attempts to catch it, but misses. earning a sigh of defeat.

“you’re good you got this.” i encourage her. i toss her the ball again and she catches it.

“WOOHOO” i cheer. she chuckles and tosses the back back to me.

“better watch out christopher. i’m coming for your spot.” she taunts.

“we’ll see about that. how about you try scoring a goal? here’s let’s say the goal is from this tree to uhh roughly about here” i walk from the tree to about a half way marking before the next tree. sticking a twig in the ground to mark our makeshift goal.

“if it’s like, a foot above my head it doesn’t count.” i explain.

“oh don’t even worry. i got this in the bag” she says confidently.

“alright im gonna like, guard you, so i’ll kinda have to get all up in your bubble. unless you don’t want me to then i-“

“it’s fine chris” she cuts me off. i smile at her.

“alright. here’s this” i place the ball in the net of the stick “okay. play on three. 1. 2. 3!”

she runs towards the goal. i move in front of her, blocking her. her chest pressed against mine as she tries pushing past me. she’s laughing. she was enjoying herself. she was enjoying herself and having fun with me.

she launches the ball towards the goal we made. i reach up with matt’s stick, sort of purposefully missing the ball. it fell through our goal.

“YEAH!” she cheers. smiling ear to ear.

“SHE SHOOTS AND SHE SCORES!” i yell.

“told you i was coming for your spot.” she teases.

“oh yeah?”

“yep. your coach is gonna see my skill and be begging me to join the team.” she states, matter of factually.

“that’s if i don’t get you first” i grin. without warning i pick her up, hoisting her over my shoulder and spinning us around.

“chris put me down!” she giggles, smacking at my back.

“what’s the magic word?” i smirk.

“please!” she laughs.

“atta girl.”

i place her back down onto the ground. our bodies still close to each other. she takes my helmet off slowly and looks up at me. her hair laid messily in her eyes. i brush it behind her ears softly. my hand resting on the side of her cheek. a comfortable silence fills the air around us. i’m surprised you couldn’t hear my heart practically beating out of my chest. she looked she so perfect. she was effortlessly beautiful. the way the sun illuminated her gorgeous y/e/c eyes was enchanting. her freckles became more visible in the gleam of the bright sun that was setting. my eyes flicker down from her eyes and down her her plump pick lips, then back up again. she did the same. her lips felt like a magnetic field that was pulling me in. i began to lean down, slowly.

our lips were still a few good inches away from each other when nick walked outside. causing the both of us to whip our heads to the side.

“oh shit am i interrupting something?” nick throws his hands up, taking a few steps back.

“uh no.” i clear my throat. “i was just uh teaching y/n how to play lacrosse”

“oh… right” nick nods his head slowly and walks back inside.

i couldn’t wrap my head around what just happened. did we almost just kiss?

“it’s getting kinda late. i should probably get going home.” y/n breaks the awkward silence that had fallen between us.

“i’ll walk you home. it’s only a few blocks.”

“oh you don’t have to do that.” she hands me back my helmet and i toss it into my bag.

“yes i do. you aren’t walking home alone.” i insist.

“okay. thank you.” she smiles.

as we head down the sidewalk, we don’t talk much. just random facts about each other. middle names, what our siblings are like, nothing too entirely special. but i paid attention to each detail of everything she told me like it was something sacred. my heart is still racing from the thought that i almost knew what it felt like to have her lips on mine.

as her house comes into sight, i feel a bit disappointed. no amount of time i spent with her ever felt long enough. i walk her up the stairs to her front door.

“thanks for walking me home.” she smiles slightly, fidgeting with her bracelets.

“no problem. anytime.”

“i had a lot of fun today. i needed that.” she smiles up at me. the porch light tracing over her delicate features perfectly. i wish i could take a picture of this moment with my mind. she truly was the most beautiful girl i had ever seen.

“i had a lot of fun too.” i admit.

before i can say anything else, she places a quick peck on my right cheek. i was instantly flustered.

“goodnight christopher owen.” she smiles and opens her door, walking inside without another word.

i stand there stunned. her lips were soft, just like i had imagined.

that’s a feeling i could definitely get used to.

a/n: HOPE YALL LIKE THIS!! i can’t decide if i like this or not. i started writing it and everything just kinda flowed out of me 😭 none of this was really planned tbh. kinda just made it up as i went.

taglist: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @chrissturnioloswifesblog @pepsiimaxx @honestlybabymiracle @luvmxtt

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #chrissturnioloxreader #christopher sturniolo #space camp wellness #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #fresh love #cut the camera podcast

[onelocket]

hello!!

i hope you’re having a nice day, whether you’re back or still not back. though i would like to ask, when you can, can you please do another of your selective mute reader x fyodor? but selective mute reader is upset and sad since i myself am hsjejhehe.. i’d like it in headcanon form but do what you’re comfy with!! — your new 💫 anon

hello 💫 anon! i’m actually still conflicted with returning or not since i still have entrance exams, but when i saw this i just had to reply right away. i’m glad you’ve found fondness to my selective reader x fyodor and i hope this post can make you feel at least a bit better. you didn’t specify much, so i wish nothing here offends you. thank you for requesting ♡

your lover needs a hug! fyodor d. x selective mute!reader

involves -- relation to this post, high school au

headcanons

The moment he saw you that one afternoon,

All down and low, a hand pressed against the classroom’s glass? It sure caught his attention more than he initiated it. He was simply walking by after returning a few books to the school’s library, but this wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen a glimpse of you suddenly all gloomy. Fyodor is always able to catch your presence even in the quietest and emptiest of rooms.

"(Name)." Fyodor spoke quietly as he picked his limit to his words. He slowly glides the sliding door shut, trapping you both in a more private situation. But before he steps any further, he knocks on the door to alert you again — "…It’s me."

Well supposedly, you should knock first before entering. Fyodor knew that enough, but part of his heart just couldn’t shake the worry to walk into the picture as agile as he could, no matter how many times this would happen. So can he be blamed, really? It’d be a discomfort to see your lover all sad about something you know they won’t be able to voice out.

A side the same, but a bit nicer now

He wouldn’t want to pressure you, that’s something all can agree to. If you were anybody else then perhaps he might consider the fleeting amusement to your vulnerability — but you weren’t. And he was going to make sure you knew that.

"Come here." He whispered, taking a few calculated steps to your direction as he stopped at a smaller distance.

He was undeniably trying to get you out of the easy view anyone can take of in the window, but as he sees you thoughtless, he’d just let out a small sigh before taking his words for himself rather than repeating it. Normally would he find it slightly irritating, especially since he asks the same thing each time you did so by a window; or anywhere public really, but he knows being mad at you wouldn’t help it go away.

He kind of already knows what would’ve bothered you…

Because you are his important person, simply put. He wouldn’t have to require you to inform him what happened, even if it was something nobody else knew at all. Not to say he’s always aware of what’s specifically bothering you, but he will have an idea — a guess or two.

"It’s okay.." Fyodor says, his own school uniform making a quiet shifting sound to turn your attention to him slightly, his hands gesturing an ask for holding you.

When you allow him, he takes it as slowly as he can, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gave you a tiny smile. "You don’t have to do anything. I know what happened."

He wouldn’t also mind if you did talk about it though. Whether it be with notes or sign language. Bonus if it was your voice, but hey, he would never force you about that, allowing yourself to be assured by the facts that you weren’t required to talk. Your presence was to suffice.

Quiet whispers and gentle kisses

If there’s one thing he wouldn’t forget during the act of comforting you, it’d be kisses and sweet whispers. Public or not, Fyodor would try to give you at least a soft kiss. He’ll tuck a few strands of hair away from your face as he gives you kisses on your forehead, keeping his fingertips light and graceful — whispering you some questions that might aid you in calming you down.

"Would you like me to excuse us to our last period, milaya?" He suggests, to which you deny by slightly, and albeit reluctantly, shaking your head. ..Alright. I love you."

In amidst the silence would he warm it up with his touch, the seconds elongating into minutes as you also denied the realization of this moment to end. His soft whispers in your ears to ease and soothe you down were always his path to calm you, but if you didn’t feel like it, Fyodor always has his physical touch to help out as well.

Your acceptance to his hold would be enough

Since if you can’t find a reply through words, your actions fulfill the Dostoevsky more instead. Your body turning to face him would be one of his favorite things to see or feel if he was holding you, especially when your hands submit to take or press against his skin.

"There you are." He cooed, pressing another kiss on your forehead before pulling away, keeping the proximity intimate and comfortable. "Look at me, (Name)?"

"..Lovely. You’re so lovely."

Sometimes he asks you to look at him, and although it is also to let himself indulge in the pretty sight of your eyes; it was also to read your expression better. He’ll admit that you never speaking had its own ways for him to understand you, but it was never going to be difficult for him anyway. Nothing will be, especially when it’s for you.

If you’re crying, he’ll let you

Besides, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t? If he was holding you as you cried, he’d subtly tighten his grip on you, a careful expression on his features as he listened to your sobs, holding you close to him without a care now if people saw you two from the window.

"You’re fine now. Stay with me and you’ll be safe, okay? Let it out."

While it’s not easy to deny that he could be a bit irritated by the damp spots you could leave on his uniform, he could always wash them after class. His uniform has an easy fix anytime, meanwhile you always had a chance to lose that fix. And he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

If anyone walks inside the classroom?

Fyodor would just stare at them. Usually only when you aren’t looking into his eyes, though. Let’s say, perhaps you’ve had your head resting on his shoulder. The moment somebody takes a longer stare at you two more than should be — your boyfriend would simply stare back, his purple eyes almost threatening its own mind to glare, but kept his calm and quiet as he held you. He’d keep staring till that persons gone, to which, usually is the resort to his wordless reply.

Above all, you are his priority ^^

Whether the issue be something big or small, if it affected you this much for it to be involving itself in class hours, Fyodor will always be there for you. To him, having a lover like you is so endearing and special, like he has to protect you with what he has. And he pretty much does what he’s thinking of. Need for his touch? Need for his words? He’ll know, and he’ll give it with as much emotion as you could handle from him.

⚘

#krei & anon #krei headcanons #bsd dostoevsky #bsd imagines #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor imagines #bsd x y/n #bsd fyodor #bsd #bsd x you #bsd x reader #fyodor hcs #fyodor headcanons #fyodor fluff #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader

[yelenasdiary]

The Third Widow || Untraced

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Fem! Belova! Reader.

Summary: Y/n Belova is the younger biological sister of Yelena Belova and the adoptive sister of Natasha Romanoff. Saved from Red Room by Melina & Alexei she now must adjust to a new normal. Going to school, recovering, and finding love in the eyes of another troubled teen, Wanda Maximoff. All while General Dreykov has his eyes set on claiming back what he calls his most powerful ‘widow’.

Angst | Comfort | No Warnings |  2.3K | 

Notes: Flashbacks are bold, italic and start with ‘~’ | Written in second person. | 

Translations: плющ (Ivy), сестра (sister),

AC: bit of short chapter but a lot more comfort than the others.

The Third Widow Masterlist

The soft knock on your shortly lived childhood door breaking you from the words printed in the book in your hand. Melina's head slowly popped in with a warm smile, "I figured you might be hungry by now" she entered with a tray in her hands. A roast dinner that you kindly excused yourself from and locked yourself a way in your room for the evening. "Thanks, just put it on the desk, please" you smiled softly in return, but your eyes said more than you thought. "Just because you're no longer under Bruce's supervision, doesn't mean you're not undermine, and you need to eat at some point" she placed the tray of food over your lap with a raised brow. 

You place your book to the side before picking up the fork, stabbing it into the vegetables on the plate. "I hope Yelena didn't overwhelm you with her talk on the way back" Melina chuckled; she used small talk as an excuse to make sure you'd at least eaten something. "She was excited, although I don't really think I was paying much attention" the fork in your hand rolling the green peas around. "Would this have anything to do with Wanda?" your eyes slowly looked up at Melina who looked nothing more than a curious mother with a cheeky grin. 

"W-why would, I mean, what?" you stuttered in question, memories you had with Wanda making your heart break even more than before, you slowly placed the tray of food beside you. "So, it is true" Melina tilted her head to the left slightly, "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked in a comforting tone. "There's nothing to talk about" you paused, "not now anyways". 

"Was it serious?" Melina asked. 

"I don't think so" you sighed, "am I meant to tell you this? I mean you're my mo-" your eyes shot down to your hands in your lap. "You can tell me whatever you feel comfortable with, I'm not going to force it out of you. But if you ever want to talk, I'm all ears and so is Alexei" the brunette reached for your hands, rubbing her thumbs over your knuckles. "I know you don't want to hear all this again but, things will get easier. It might take some time, I won't lie about that and for a while you might feel like this but you're free now, really free. The world is in your hands, you can do whatever you like. You are no different to anybody else even if you feel differently, you can do anything you want" her right hand brushed a lock of hair out of your face while still looking into your eyes, "Don't stay up too late" she playfully winked before getting up from your bed. 

"Thanks, Melina" you smiled softly as she walked out of your room, clothing the door behind her. 

----

The morning sun peeking through your bedroom curtains and warmly kissing your face woke you, tossing to avoid being blinded as your eyes slowly opened. The smell of a typical eggs and bacon breakfast slowly crept its way up the stairs and under your door giving you a sense of how things used to be, when Yelena would let you know that breakfast was ready as she made her way downstairs. Alexei would already be waiting at the dining table reading the comic inserts of the newspaper, Natasha would skip breakfast and down a glass of orange juice before beating anybody to the bathroom to shower. 

Everything felt like you'd just gotten back from a vacation too long expect there was a block of darkness, a block of empty memories, a block of nothing. The little memories you have only came to a stop then it was nothing. You sighed to yourself and kicked the covers off before slipping your feet into the warm slippers that waited for you by the door, the smell of sizzling bacon only got stronger when you slowly opened the door, "Good morning" Yelena smiled standing the doorway of her room, "sleep well?" she asked. 

"Yeah, not bad, you?" You hated the feeling of not knowing your own sister anymore, she almost felt like a stranger. "A better sleep than I've had in a very long time" she replied, "are you coming down for breakfast?" The blonde closed her bedroom door. 

"Actually, I think I might go for a run first, I was just going to brush my teeth and slip out the door" 

"Mind if I join you?" 

"Think you can keep up?" you smirked, "we trained quite hard in re-" you stopped yourself before finishing the sentence, hoping it wouldn't ruin the small moment you were sharing with your sister. "Loser shouts breakfast?" Yelena winked, "you're on!" you smiled. "I'll meet you downstairs, don't take too long, loser" Yelena chuckled before making her way downstairs. 

After brushing your teeth and changing into your activewear, well, Yelena's old activewear, you met Yelena downstairs by the front door. "Girls, are you joining us for breakfast?" Melina peeked her head out of the kitchen, "Nope, we'll be back later" Yelena answered for you both as she opened the door. You followed her out to the footpath where you both did a few warm-up stretches. 

"Where we are running too, плющ?" Yelena looked at you with a small smile, you missed hearing her call you by the nickname she gave you. The only person to ever call you Ivy, a little reminder that no matter what happens, you'll always be her little sister. "I was thinking of just going to this spot Wanda showed me". 

"The river, right?" 

"Yeah, we don't have too if it's a bit far" your eyes dropped to your feet, "Loser buys breakfast, remember?" Yelena made you smile once more as you slowly looked up at her.

----

"You my sister, owe me breakfast and after that run, I am starving!" Yelena boosted about her win as you both walked into the local café, picking up a menu from the nears empty table. "Well, technically, you're buying" you grinned, "Uh, no? you lost" she reminded you yet again of her win. "I don't have money, remember" you both chuckled, "you owe me" Yelena smiled and handed you the menu, "get whatever you'd like, I'm going to order a smoothie, do you want one?" she asked, you nodded slowly, "mango please". 

Yelena ordered for you both then sat across from you and smiled softly, "I'm so glad you're back" she started, "I'm so sor-"

"Yelena, please" you kindly interrupted, "it's fine. I just want to forget about Red Room and all darkness that comes with it"

"Of course, I just, I just wanted you to know that I never stopped looking for you, every and any chance I got I was out looking for you and look, after what Nat and Melina told me, I don't even care about that, you are my sister regardless of DNA"

"Wait, what? W-what are you talking about? DNA?" you frowned slightly, "They haven't told you?" Yelena lent back in her seat, "tell me what?" you asked.

 "You should let Melina explain, I thought you already knew, I'm sorry"

"Yelena, if I'm going to hear it from anybody, I want it to be you. Now, what is it? Please"

Yelena bit her bottom lip with worry as she looked at you, "Natasha saw your file when she was with Dreykov, before everything. Biologically, I mean, if we did a DNA test it'll show up that we're not related. He somehow had your DNA wiped, Melina knows more about it which is why you sho-"

"Great" you sighed, fighting back the tears trying to build up in your eyes, "the only thing I had and he took that too" you added. "Hey, no, don't think of it like that. You're my sister" Yelena reached for your hands, "do you understand, you are my little sister. The little girl I think the world of. You're the only person I can trust with my entire life. I don't need a percent on a piece of paper to tell me you're my sister" she adds looking deep into your watering eyes, "I love you, плющ". 

The tears freely fell from your eyes, "why did all of this happen, сестра?" you asked, "why us? Why any of us?" you added with a sob just as the waiter placed your orders on the table and walking away, "I don't know плющ, I don't know why any of this has happened but it's over now and he can never hurt you, me, Natasha or anybody else for that matter. I know you don't want to hear the big speech but wherever you go from here, whatever you do want to do, I'll be there" she smiles softly as the tears feel off your jawline and onto your shirt. 

"I need some air" you mumbled before standing from your seat, "I'm sorry" you looked at Yelena. "It's okay, I'll be here" she nodded softly before you let yourself out of the café. You wiped your tears on your shirt, trying to process the information that Yelena shared wasn't easy. Your entire life was never 'normal', you didn't have the same education as everybody else, you'd seen more things in your life that nobody should ever have to see, you've done things that would land you more than one life time behind prison, so what now? Where do you go from here?

----

"Hey" you spoke softly with a light knocked on Yelena's opened bedroom door, "do you mind if I borrow your phone? I don't have one yet, well, I don't really have anyth-"

"Sure, here" Yelena took her mobile off charge and handed it to you, "is everything okay?" she asked, your eyes still puffy from this morning. "Yeah, I just want to call a fri-…I want to call Wanda" you corrected yourself, "she was uhm, she" you paused before stuttering. "It's okay, I know, we all know" Yelena smirked slightly, "take your time" she added.

Never did you think the sound of an outgoing call would make your stomach turn, waiting for Wanda to pick up the phone with your fingers crossed tightly. 

"Yelena, hey, is everything okay?" Her voice finally came through the phone causing you to softly smile to yourself. 

"It's not Yelena" you replied looking over your shoulder to make sure your bedroom door was closed like a teenager breaking the late-night rules. 

"Y/n, hey" you could almost hear the smile on Wanda's lips, "Wh…is everything okay?" she asked unsure of what to say. 

"Uhm, yeah, things are fine…uhm, I know I asked if you could give me a few days, but I was wondering if we could meet up tomorrow? At our old spot?" You bit your bottom lip gently as you waited for the Sokovian to answer. 

"I'd love too but on one condition" 

"W-what would that be?" you asked nervously. 

"Can you bring your sketch book? If you still have it of course" 

"I do actually, I was looking through its last night. I can't believe Melina kept it" as you tried to hide the growing smile on your lips. 

"Great, would you mind drawing something to show me tomorrow? I missed your drawings and I'd love to see something" Wanda's voice only making you blush with feelings that never truly left, after all this time. 

"I might be a little rusty but sure, I'll see what I can come up with" 

"I can't wait, I'll send Yelena a message in the morning when I'm on my way, I'll meet you at our spot, okay?" 

"Okay, I'll see you then" 

"Don't stay up too late, okay?" Wanda chuckled lightly, "I'll see you tomorrow" she added before hanging up the line. 

You placed Yelena's phone back on her bedside table unable to stop yourself from the smile that was glued to your lips. "You and Wanda huh? When did you plan on telling me?" Yelena joked. "I w-wouldn't say there is really anything to say" you looked to your feet like a nervous teenager, "she was my first kiss" you added quietly, Yelena smiled to herself and acted as if she didn't already know. 

"Great, now I gotta give Wanda the talk" she joked causing your eyes to shoot up at her. "Don't! we're adults anyways" you stressed, feeding into Yelena's taunting. "So? As your older sister, I have a right to be protective regardless of who you date so Wanda is getting a talking too when I see her next" 

"Well, she's coming tomorrow" you informed your older sister. "Oh goodie, I have all night to think of all the things I can stomp her with if she breaks your heart" Yelena joked, kind of. 

"Please don't, we're just friends, I think…I don't really know, we didn't really leave on anything when….you know" 

"Oh you've got it bad" Yelena chuckled, "I won't say anything tomorrow but I will say something eventually, it's my job. I've seen enough trashy movies with Kate to know" Yelena winked playfully. "How is Kate? I'd love to see her" you asked with a soft smile.

 "She's good, we've been speaking here and there. I told her you were back, and she'd love to see you again, I said whenever you were ready for visitors" 

"Maybe we could go out over the weekend? The four of us, like the old days" you suggested, Yelena nodded, "sure, if you want. I'll give Kate a call tomorrow" she replied. 

"Sweet, can't wait" you smiled before walking back to your bedroom and sitting down at your desk. Your sketch book opened in front of you, led pencils in the pencil holder only collecting dust until you picked on up again and began sketching something to show Wanda tomorrow.

Taglist: @justabrokensunshine | @sayah13 | @nattyolw | @exclusivitymajor | @bibliophilicbi | @when-wolves-howl | @that-one-gay-mosquito | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @foggymoonbanana | @atmnothere | @justyourwritter69 | @wiertarkanah | @marvelfan98 | @jasminebelding | @bluesimps-world | @wandasobsession | @marvel-fan-2021 | @lattayhottay16 | @jowshuaayee | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @capswife | @1tsmydan | @roman0ffsheart | @mrscromanoff | @immadowhateva | @magnificentworldtf | @originaltrashheap | @mousecakez | @skittlebum |  @that-one-gay-mosquito | @secrettoallofyou | @teenybean | @johnnyhulu | 

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #natahsa romanoff #natahsa romanoff x reader #black widow #fanfiction #marvel #the third widow

[cozcat]

Costuming the Amyrlin, part 1

I've been thinking for a while about how I love Siuan's costumes - both as pieces in themselves, and for what they might mean as they continue to tell this story. So here we are.

Please note: this post only contains spoilers for the show. Part 2 of this post will contain spoilers for the books as well, and will be linked at the end.

When we see Siuan as Amyrlin, we see her in incredibly elaborate, detailed clothing - it's intricate, it's clearly expensive, it's incredibly structured. These are the outfits that she exerts her power in - within the White Tower or outside of it, the Amyrlin stands alongside kings and queens, and that is made clear the second she walks onscreen.

It bears little resemblance to what we see her wearing in private - those moments where does not have to be the Amyrlin more than she is Siuan, because these are not the clothes of Siuan Sanche, these are the vestments of the Amyrlin Seat. But do you want to know what it does remind me of? Papal regalia.

I would not be surprised at all to find out that Isis Mussenden and Sharon Gilham intentionally channelled religious regalia, given that Siuan is often described as the wizard pope. The clothing sets expectations for those that see them, and they let person and position be the same - it's a clear purpose, and these garments achieve it. Both colour-wise and structurally, there is a strong resemblance there. Costuming is a visual cue for viewers, so when Siuan walks on in something that evokes religious authority or royalty, viewers know instantly what that means.

(Though a bonus thing for the colour of Siuan's clothing? Look what happens when you blend the seven colours of the Ajahs together...

Thank you @fuel-prices for the handy dandy image.

There is a very strong resemblance in colour. And as a side note - this is the only outfit we see her in that entirely obscures her tattoos. But we have Tairen paisley visible on the cuffs. Be it the visible tattoos or the paisley, Siuan does not shy away from where she is from.)

And the thing with both religious wear and Siuan's costumes is that I very much doubt that anybody wearing those clothes is wearing them for fun. A person in a position of power and authority is expected to look the part. Siuan needs people to think of people her as the gold standard of an Amyrlin, because she needs to deflect all belief that she could be anything otherwise. Siuan needs to look the part - Maigan straight up says that Siuan is losing her grip on the Tower: Siuan cannot afford any more doubt cast upon her. She and Moiraine have a shared mission - and in order for Siuan to succeed in her half of it, and to allow Moiraine to succeed in her half, she needs to maintain that power, and that control. Siuan is pragmatic, a planner - she's sensible! She knows she needs to be every part the Amyrlin wherever she can afford to be. So, as she would put it - why rock the boat by rebelling against the image expected of her?

And so, Siuan's costumes may not resemble what the books suggested that she wore, but they convey exactly what they need to - power, and prestige, and a unique position of authority.

I've gone into more detail on the way they might use the costuming so far for forthcoming events in part 2 of this post. Please note: book spoilers to The Gathering Storm.

#wheel of time #wot #siuan sanche #mywot

[perryavenue]

rainjoy Has A New Post. It's Personal

rainjoy is one of my favorite Klaine fanfic authors. Their first Klaine fanfic was published on LiveJournal in 2011, their last in 2021. Health issues have become more intense over time. Their most famous works, All The Other Ghosts and Grey, were published in 2012 and 2013. So those who've joined the fandom fairly recently may not even know about their other fics, the most recent one being from 2021. rainjoy has written Klaine in every genre: high school!Klaine, college!Klaine, married!Klaine, supernatural!Klaine, fantasy!Klaine, and even superhero!Klaine.

Here is a link to rainjoy's works on Live Journal

Here's a link for Dreamwidth

I hope that you'll help boost it by re-blogging. Thanks in advance, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @todaydreambelieversfic

This is rainjoy's post from today (October 27, 2023).

"Hello, I’m still alive.

Hello, I do mean it, hello anybody around to see this, I really hope you’ve been well, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I *haven’t* been well. But I have, over a course of fucking months, actually written something, so I’m writing *this* here so I don’t need to leave a novel-length author’s note on it, as some kind of explanation of where I’ve been.

Largely, I’ve been in bed, I’m likely going there again after posting this, they need to invent new words for how tired I am so much of the time, my upgraded wheelchair is worth about as much as my *laptop*, my life revolves around Can I? Probably not. and lots and lots and lots of ‘resting’. I’ve not been well, but please don’t worry, I’ve not been unhappy. This is the golden age of being ill, the sheer quantity of stuff out there to amuse the bedbound – I have books and podcasts, all of Netflix, I practically live on Sky: Children of the Light, when I’m too dopey even for that I have Animal Crossing, when I am genuinely such a puddle of not-human lethargy that all I need is for time to pass until I feel just slightly better again I have videos of other people playing video games on YouTube and I’m sorry my darling baby moths I will pick you up and help you every single time but it will never not be funny watching someone go through Eden for the first time on YouTube, it just never will not make me laugh, oh my gods I’m so *sorry* my loves <3

So anyway, there’s all that, that’s where I’ve been, life really does not work out the way you planned it to, huh? Because outside of my bed, I know I have messages and emails and someone got a tattoo?? You got a tattoo and I’m just really sorry I haven’t been in touch, my energy has to be paid out like a miser, if I want to wash my hair then wow the world is really not getting anything else out of me, you know? But I am still here, and I do still love the things I love. I still think all of it is worth it. I think the world is a *lot* of fun, though I bear in mind that still, and always, we live through very frightening and distressing times. Which actually makes me think we need to cling to the things we love *more*, not less, love makes better people of us, when we let it.

So I did watch the new season of Good Omens when it came out, and safe to say I was not impressed, but it did jog in me the memory that didn’t I write a sequel to it? Yes I did, and it involved *all* that blood. But I reread it – it’s like reading a stranger’s writing after so long – and that jogged the memory: Didn’t you start a sequel to *this*?

Yes I did! Two thirds written, actually, hurrah for my past self. The last third took, I don’t know, when did the new season come out, it took that long. I used to sneeze out this sort of thing. This, now, is getting at my arms, it’ll be another lie down soon. But anyway, the point of all this: I live yet. In the next few days I *hope* I will be formatting and posting a sequel to But Thou Readst Black because of course everyone wants *that* back in their heads again, my gods. And I hope hope hope you’ve been well, I do think of people while I’m stuck doing nothing but pooling my brain out of my ears on YouTube. Look after yourselves, take care of each other, my gods you tattooed yourself I mean more power to you but it alarms me when things I make turn out to be *permanent*, you know? It feels like I barely touch the world anymore, my circumference has become so small, but it makes the world seem only more precious. Take good care of it, and of yourself as part of it. And very, very much love, to anyone remaining to see this, much love <3"

#rainjoy #klaine fanfic #rainjoys writing