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#god i know people want a part two and it’s such a GOOD IDEA
theminecraftbee · 15 hours
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just revisited scs, and was wondering if pearl still joins hermitcraft in season 8 as she does? and if so, what are three's thoughts and feelings on this? if we go by hermitcraft rules, it'd have to had voted her in, and it does care about pearl in some capacity due to her link with martyn and jimmy so it'd want her somewhere safe, but is their relationship still rocky at that point? has it gotten better? and how does it evolve through their time on hermitcraft? is boatem still a thing, or do three and pearl give each other more space?
sorry if you've answered something like this before, but i'm curious
so here's how it goes in my head, although as always, anyone is free to have their own headcanons for it:
so by season eight, given the messy timeline i've created, three has had some time and distance. additionally, i like to think that it and everyone else DID keep up their promises to stay in contact. pearl and three's relationship will probably never be as close as pearl and grian's, but pearl is TRYING and three is willing to give her a shot when they're not standing right next to each other and she isn't in the middle of grief as much, so they form a tentative bond.
pearl doesn't join season eight because of three; three doesn't invite her. however, i'd like to think that pearl, maybe on the prodding of "her friends are actually talking to her again", has tentatively started doing her own builds again and showing them off and something like that dragon build of her blows up. so when names are being floated for season eight, and someone's already floated gem as a possibility, someone says pearl's name. and three doesn't know. three doesn't know if they'll be able to handle each other living on the same server. but it's now been at least a year and a half since scs and with scs's messy timeline probably longer, right. three is much more self-assured and has a better idea of who it is. and like, it thinks about it, but maybe pearl gives away she's still living on evo in a call, and three thinks about it, and...
the thing is: three had needed someone to say "you can come here when you run away" two years ago about the same thing. it can at least try.
this is to say: pearl joining hermitcraft is not three's idea or three's invitation. but three gives her its endorsement, and eventually its vote. pearl joins in season eight. three and pearl then proceed to try to completely avoid each other for like, at least a month. i don't want to take pearl and impulse bonding away from the world, so i think maybe pearl still bases near there, but the friendship groups in three's timeline are a little shifted ANYWAY, even if they're similar, so we can shift people around a little. maybe three drags mumbo off to go follow iskall and etho into the shattered savannah. god, can you imagine, actually, that would be hysterical.
but the thing is, even though the hermits spend a lot of time alone, they also spend a lot of time together, and like... three IS friends with impulse. and it is Conspicuous that they're avoiding each other, and they can't do it forever. it's pearl who screws her courage to the sticking place first and invites three to help her with an interior room of her build. three, not actually quite good enough at emotions to recognize "here come do an interior, thing i know grian hated but you like" as the very deliberate olive branch it is but good enough at emotions to know it probably shouldn't avoid, accepts.
and it goes... well. it surprises both of them how well it goes, actually. maybe it shouldn't; they've been in contact after all, and they've had time to soothe and process their relationship. they part back to their own bases again with the promise to do it again, and they do not avoid each other for the rest of the season. they don't seek each other out, often--they're not quite ready for that--but they don't avoid each other, either.
it's not perfect. pearl still sometimes looks at three like she's looking at a dead man. three still sometimes wants to scream when she does.
but there are many times, now, when they can forget how they met in the first place, and just chat about build pallets and pranks and shapes and llamas and everything else together.
that's close enough to healing.
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golbrocklovely · 2 days
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complicated // sam golbach
A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)
prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader
trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam
word count: 4020
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.
I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.
God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.
Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.
And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.
The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.
And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.
This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.
I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.
If he can have fun, so can I.
~~~~
“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.
I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”
He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”
“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.
He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”
I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”
“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly. 
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”
He smirked, “Try me.”
I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”
Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.
He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”
“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”
I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”
“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.
Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”
I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”
Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”
“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.
I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.
“What do you want?” He asked.
I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”
“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.
I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."
“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.
“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.
He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.
He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”
I glanced up, “A year?” 
“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.
My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."
He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”
“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.
“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.
“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.
I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”
“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.
“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.
“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.
I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!
“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.
I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”
Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”
I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”
“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.
“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”
“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.
“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.
He hummed, “I know the feeling.” 
“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.
Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.” 
“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.
“What about me?” He chuckled.
“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.
“What do you wanna know?” He asked.
I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.” 
“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”
“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.
Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”
“Not many truly do.” I added.
“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.
“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him. 
He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”
I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”
“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”
I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”
“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”
I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”
“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.
“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”
“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.
“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”
I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”
“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.
“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.
He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”
“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.
He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”
I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”
“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.
I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”
Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"
He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."
I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his. 
They looked awfully nice....
I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.
Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.
Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”
I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”
“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.
I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.” 
“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.
I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."
He agreed, letting out a light laugh.
We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.
I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?
Fuck, I just... needed him.
Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.
“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.
That's all I needed to hear.
I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.
He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”
I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?” 
“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.
“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.
He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”
“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.
“Fine with me.”
He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.
I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.
He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”
“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”
“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.
“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”
“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."
“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.
“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.
I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire. 
Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.
Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.
Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.
He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”
“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.
“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter. 
As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.
“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.
“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.
He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."
I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”
He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”
Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.
“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.
“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.
“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.
My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”
“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.
I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.
His tip teased me, “You ready?”
I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”
He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.
I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.
But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.
Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.
“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.
“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”
“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.
He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.
He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?” 
I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.
Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”
I blinked, staring into his eyes.
“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.
His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”
He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”
I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.
“You need more?” Sam growled.
I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.
I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”
“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-
I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.
He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..
Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.
“You right there for me?” He hissed.
I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”
“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.
He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.
“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.
He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”
“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.
He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”
My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.
He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”
I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.
Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.
The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.
We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.
I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.
“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.
“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.
Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”
I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”
“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.
“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”
I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.
Definitely a bigger appetite…
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hungharrington · 2 months
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Mayhaps a second part to the no-nut november story could entail... Readers turn? so either a full month of READER having to endure the curse of being horny and being at steves mercy... where steve is like "if YOU break before the end of the month: I get to fuck you" just to switch it up ya know, or something like that. Or maybe steve wants a second chance but reader has to take part too...so both of them get more pent up as the weeks go along... and they try to get the other to break first... also, and each one has a different 'bet'. Like: If I win I get this, if YOU win bla bla bla" Oh the possibilities....they truly are endless...
ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES!!!! oh my god both of you doing it at the same time and trying to make each other break…. god anon ur mind….
it would turn into an all out war. you start wearing low-cut tops, even go as far to flash him at the most in opportune moments, ‘accidentally’ getting your shirt wet at a party and letting it get a little see-through because steve has a direct line to his dick that is activated by boobs — plus he has this really adorable ticked off face when he’s getting turned on and is trying really hard not to be. and he’s obsessed with your boobs bcos ofc he is <3
but it’s not like he can’t get his revenge! he would notice how you fixate on his hands and put on a vulgar show for you, his thumb rubbing tight little circles on the edge of his cup, eating something a little too messy so it can end with him licking each finger clean with that skillful tongue of his, his pink lips smirking at how your thighs are pressed together not as subtlety as you think
having a moment at a party together where you end up in the bathroom, pressed up against the sink, both of you kissing fiercely, meanly, steve biting your bottom lip and you getting back at him by leaving a hickey under his ear. you’re both raking fingers down each others back, pulling on hair, your hips rutting against each other, trying so hard to get the other to crack first, to cum in their pants— and then having to shove away when it becomes alarmingly clear you’re going to cum first if you don’t stop and you’re both panting, staring at each other, keyed up and wanting but both so stubborn
and then you would fuck anyways, against the bathroom sink, so hard the mirror on the wall shakes a bit while you’re both riling each up up, panting in each others ears about how much you’ve wanted this for the whole time the challenge has been going on
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regallibellbright · 1 year
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God, I hope I manage to get people reading this fic even a HUNDREDTH as invested in this character and the family I completely invented out of whole cloth for him who have been living rent-free in my head for like two years now and steadfastly refused to make a story work until now, because I needed to get a good bit out of my head before I went to sleep, made myself cry because I cry ABSURDLY easily, and now it’s like four hours later and I need to actually get to FUCKING BED ALREADY but words keep coming, my fic is too sad, and I use a CPAP that already finds my face shape tricky and don’t want to combine that with my messy crying.
I’m just saying, it’s not fair I inflict this on myself while WRITING it. Rereading it later, sure, I’m fine with that, but writing it? What am I doing, using these characters as an outlet for emotional catharsis? Gross. Inefficient. I can’t keep writing when I need to routinely stop and wipe my eyes.
#writing with regalli#wips#I haven’t even gotten to the part that’s making me sad just to think about#no but seriously this is an actual problem for me that has happened more than once#if it works even a fraction as much as I’m hoping it will it’ll be SO GOOD and I will be SO PROUD OF THIS#but see I’m already invested and other people are not because you know. OCs.#I am deeply and profoundly attached to these OCs who have literally no implication in canon#seriously even the canon character in question is just a step or two removed from blank slate#and by this point I could write an entire fucking NOVEL in which there are maybe a couple hints of a second canon character offecreen#and then it ends with him meeting a third.#if someone talks shit about AUs not potentially engaging with the themes of the source material I fucking might.#like a really good AU that tries is DEEPLY concerned with where characters change and where they stay the same when this changes#and this particular threat of spite would be very much invested in the setting and deal with themes#but while looking at a spot that’s particularly thin in a movie that is admittedly more Vibes than plot and going ‘It’s free real estate’.#I can’t do AUs like that I struggle with differentiating character voice enough. but you know what I can do?#THIS BULLSHIT. and I am genuinely proud I can.#but it does bring a lot of anxiety when the emotional core is around characters who /I/ care deeply about#but who no one else has ever heard of because they are mine#god though THIS is the first idea I wanted to do this holiday prompt challenge for and it is WORKING for me.#the others have been aggressively Not at times and another one will be the full climax but this one actually fully fits the prompt#without the association that already existed in MY mind but which I will have to sell to not feel totally shoehorned for readers#which is admittedly a big ask under the circumstances#because the association would not be obvious if you DIDN’T know I had in fact had this idea for ages#and why would you? I have not brought it up before
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devilishcupid · 11 months
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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kumawaii · 4 months
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BETTER THAN YOU, ALWAYS | JWW
cw - yandere themes, possessiveness, manipulation, cheating, cucking kink, recording, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming
– original request
∘₊✧─── 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ───✧₊∘
bestie!wonwoo is someone who can pull. even when he doesn’t try, both men and women flock to him like bees on honey. it gets even worse when people get to know him because he’s just so likable and handsome that no one can ever stay away. so many people love and admire him, and your boyfriend is no exception.
you’ve never thought anything about how much your boyfriend admires bestie!wonwoo because you get it. god, do you get it. aside from being good looking, he’s smart and kind and gentle. even though you would never admit it out loud, you had a small crush on him when you two first met. so, yeah. you know better than anyone why your boyfriend is so starstruck by your best friend.
bestie!wonwoo finds it cute. your boyfriend is always so happy to see him and is so eager for his approval. he’s a good guy despite being a little clumsy and inattentive. but it was fine because he made you happy. well, for the most part.
another one of bestie!wonwoo’s wonderful traits is his attention to detail. he had noticed a long time ago that something is off about your relationship. not in a toxic or concerning way, but enough for him to wonder if there was something lacking between you two. he doesn’t push the subject with you, and you’re grateful. because telling him would be downright humiliating.
but you should’ve known that there’s no such things as keeping secrets from bestie!wonwoo.
you’re over at his house playing video games when you realize that his head isn’t really in it. this isn’t like him because he has this insatiable need to win at everything he does. especially video games. so after you beat him for the second time, you have to pause and look at him seriously.
“what’s wrong?”
bestie!wonwoo is usually straightforward which is why you feel concerned over seeing him hesitate. he sighs and pulls out his phone. wordlessly, he hands it to you.
his phone is open to a text thread — one between him and your boyfriend. you don’t think anything of it until you start reading the messages. apparently, your boyfriend was playing around with the idea of letting bestie!wonwoo fuck you. in the texts, he reveals how he had never made you cum and maybe learning how to properly fuck a woman would help him achieve that.
you’re absolutely mortified as you hand your friend his phone back. it’s absolutely humiliating that your boyfriend admitted to being a cuck who’s never made you cum before. in the messages he sounded so eager to watch bestie!wonwoo fuck you since he has this apparent sex god reputation. it’s worse because your boyfriend had gone on to say that you would be just as eager to have your best friend fuck you.
“i have to go.” you rush out, wanting nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow you.
bestie!wonwoo gently grabs your wrist, gentle eyes pleading and understanding. “don’t be embarrassed. he’s just trying to be a good boyfriend.”
it kills you that he’s being so cool about this. your boyfriend was an embarrassing fool who didn’t know any boundaries, yet bestie!wonwoo was still being the kind guy you know and love. you slowly deflate, skin burning with humiliation.
“this is so embarrassing!” you mumble, just wanting to curl up into a ball. “i’m so mad right now i could kill him!”
your best friend shifts closer to you until your thighs are touching. wonwoo’s gently caressing your wrist now, eyes looking at you with something you can’t place.
“what if you did something else?”
you don’t care that you’re betraying your boyfriend in the worst possible way as you lick up and down bestie!wonwoo’s big cock. he’s making the hottest faces and prettiest sounds as you deep throat him. his weeping tip is hitting the back of your throat as look up at the camera being pointed at you.
“fuck. just like that, baby.” wonwoo groans as he pets your head. “you’re so fucking hot.”
you’re slobbering all over his cock, chocking and gagging a bit as you take as much of him as you can. wonwoo cries out in pleasure when you hum around his cock, feeling the sensation all the way up his spine. you smirk around his thickness. if your boyfriend thought he could slut you out like you meant nothing, then that’s what you would do. but not for him. never for him.
you don’t think bestie!wonwoo can look any hotter but you’re proven wrong when he cums in your mouth. pretty moans bounce off the walls as you swallow every drop of his seed. you release his cock with a pop, opening your mouth to show the camera that you swallowed everything. he tosses the phone on your bed and pulls you up to smash lips on yours.
his lips are addicting. you can’t get enough as you fall back on his bed, giggling and moaning into his mouth. bestie!wonwoo sets up his phone on his nightstand so it’s pointing directly at you two. he folds your legs against your chest and shoves his thick cock into you with one harsh thrust.
you cry out for him, feeling so full. wonwoo’s dick is so bit that you feel him splitting you open, molding your hot cunt into the shape of him as he fucks you. he’s already found the spot inside you that makes you cream around his cock until all he can see is your arousal covering him.
“god damn.” wonwoo groans, loving how he can see and smell your arousal so clearly. “my pretty girl was just waiting for a real man to fuck her, huh?”
“yes!” you cry out wantonly. “fuck, nonu. your dick is so big!”
it feels like he’s fucking every coherent thought out of you. his cock is reaching spots inside you that you never thought anyone could touch. your eyes roll back as you let him stretch you open and use you exactly how he wants.
“tight little pussy’s all mine now.” wonwoo sounds ravenous. “that fool doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t deserve it.”
bestie!wonwoo smirks when your hot cunt grips him tighter and stains him with more of your arousal. he keeps fucking into you, already obsessed with the sight of you trembling and moaning under him. the moment your lips touched his cock, he was never going to let you go. you cuck of a boyfriend just didn’t realize it yet.
“feel so fucking good. make me cum, wonwoo. please, please, please!”
bestie!wonwoo smirks with a fucked out groan as you plead like you’re life depends on it. he slams his cock into you, juices completely coating his throbbing length and heavy balls. skin slapping and your moans mix in together, all captured perfectly by his camera.
“let go for me, baby. show him what it looks like when a real man makes you cum.” wonwoo growls, drilling his cock deep into you with insatiable desire.
you do as you’re told, cumming with a loud yell of your best friend’s name. it doesn’t take long for his orgasm to follow. bestie!wonwoo groans your name as he spills his hot cum inside you. he swoops down to capture your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss. you’re swallowing each other’s moans as he gently fucks his cum deeper into you.
your boyfriend replays the video over and over again, fucking his hand an embarrassing amount of times to the sight of your best friend fucking you. it’s not surprising that you made noises and faces he was never able to get out of you, and for some sick reason it just turns him on.
after pulling himself together, he sends you a text. he’s a little mad that you didn’t tell him you were going to follow through with the idea bestie!wonwoo had suggested to him last week, but he knew you’d done it for your relationship.
when he sends the text it doesn’t go through. he tries again but the result is the same. when he tries to call you, it goes straight to voicemail. his heart sinks as he goes to call the man he knows you’re with.
bestie!wonwoo picks up on the third ring.
“hey, man. i was trying to get a hold of y/n—”
“she doesn’t want to speak to you.” wonwoo says in that calm tone that always used to seem so cool to him. now it just sounds condescending. “you should know that she’s done with you. don’t call again.”
“but—”
your best friend hangs up the phone and tosses it aside before pulling you closer to his naked chest. you nuzzle against him, mewling in your sleep as his cock slips further inside you. bestie!wonwoo feels his heart and cock swell at the adorable sight. he was never going to let this or you go. your idiot ex had fallen into his trap perfectly, and now the only one who would have you this way was him.
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kasagia · 4 months
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The grudge (Losing your memory pt. 2)
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You promised you would destroy him. Be his ending at all costs. The fight between you begins. Both about his position as President of Panem and about the feelings you still have for him. But the question still haunts you... is your Coryo really gone? The second part of Losing your memory, but can be read as a separate oneshot. Although I recommend reading it. Inspired by: "The grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo and @uhnanix idea/request Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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"Wait... what do you want to do?" Clemensia Dovecote asks in shock when you invite her over a few days after your birthday party.
"You heard me." you reply calmly, playing with the Sejanus bracelet on your wrist.
"This is madness, Y/N. You can't… you…"
"You think so?" you ask, amused by her scandalized reaction. "The Capitol has seen stranger, worser things." you say, getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini bar to pour you both a drink. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an… exciting idea. People are going to love it… well, maybe not the old farts and those idiots from our year, but... I'm very optimisitc about it."
"Yes, but… my God, HE is going to hate you for this." she says with a growing smirk on her face. You laugh heartily and hand her the glass.
"This is the least of my worries. The question is... will you stand by my side?"
"Y/N? You've been quieter lately, has something happened?" your mother snapped you out of your thoughts as the three of you ate dinner together.
You replayed your conversation with Clemansia from a few months ago, wondering how to break the news to your parents… actually, now was as good a time as any. You doubt there would ever be a good time to convey something like this.
"I… actually yes." you say, clearing your throat and getting ready to drop the bomb on them.
"Is that Coriolanus? Did he propose to you?" you choke on the drink you were drinking and look at your mother with a dose of disbelief and disgust.
Apparently, the ridiculous amount of roses, chocolates, dresses, and even fucking jewellery that Coriolanus was sending you didn't go unnoticed by your mother. After the first month, you thought he would take the hint, but since he tirelessly sent you gifts, you stopped returning them to him damaged (e.g., cut roses and burned clothes) and decided to give them to the servants and maids and simply ignore that poisoned snake.
"What?! No, of course not. Besides, I wouldn't say yes like... never." you shudder at the thought, at which your father laughs, joining in on the conversation between the two of you for the first time.
"Then what is it?"
Their expectant glances intimidate you for a moment, and for the first time, you wonder if the decision you've made is right. But there was no turning back. You won't let Coriolanus win so easily (or, rather, at all).
"I… well. I've submitted my candidature for president of Panem."
The silence in the room after your statement is... extremely disturbing. They both freeze; your father holds the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at you in amazement, and your mother looks like they've frozen her. For a moment, you wonder if you've given them a heart attack. But your concern for them quickly fades when their loud collective screams echo throughout the dining room.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"So I guess I won't have your votes then?" you ask jokingly, going back to cutting your steak.
"Are you crazy? A female president?!" your mother asks indignantly, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, you were a little surprised at her shock. As if you would ever play her role as an obedient wife.
"You may not know it, mother, but more and more female politicians appear in the government. Right, dad?" you ask him, using your only-daughter charm on him, mentally thanking everyone above that this man never treats you with disrespect and hostility like other fathers would if their only child was a girl.
Maybe you kind of enjoyed being his precious diamond after all. Even if that made you desired by all of Capitol's young men, who were more than willing to take your hand in marriage and dowry.
"That doesn't mean you have to be one of them! Y/F/N, tell her something!" you look pleadingly at your father, and after his long silence, you already know that you are melting his heart to your will. All it took was a little, gentle pressure.
"What are your real chances of winning?" he asks with a sigh as your mother looks at him with disbelief.
"Y/F/N..."
"I think my only serious opponent is Coriolanus. People are fed up with these fearful politicians who have been arguing with each other for a long time. Me and Snow are a fresh take on Capitol affairs. We are young and ambitious. People may choose us out of curiosity alone. And among the female electorate, I think I have a much better chance than him... if you can convince mother to let me do this, of course. I won't do anything without your blessing and support." you reply, looking at him confidently. His face is unreadable, as are his eyes, and you silently hope that you have inherited his ability to hide your emotions.
"Y/F/N you can't think about that seriosuly. She can't do this!"
"If you want to be in power, wouldn't it be better for you to join forces? Run a joint campaign. You would become Prime Minister, and he would become President if being a First Lady didn't suit you."
"I am Y/L/N. I am taking everything or nothing." this one sentence makes his façade break down. He smiles and clears his throat, trying to hide his proud smirk behind his glass of wine.
"Very good. You know your bank account number. If you need more campaign funds, in a reasonable amount, of course, you know who to ask." you smile at this and get up from your chair, ignoring your mother's words of protest.
"Thank you, father." you say, kissing his cheek and leaving the dining room, leaving him to deal with your mother's anger. You had to call your staff. The game was about to start.
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You enter the parliament building quite uncertainly. You are wearing a white suit made by Tigris. The black vest, which is intended to liven up the outfit, fits you a bit too tight, but you blame it on the fact that you've been stress-eating sweets lately. You will ask her to sew you appropriate clothes later.
For now, you wanted as few people as possible to know about your candidacy. You trusted Tigris, but there was no way in hell you could let Coriolanus find out about this beforehand. You will present him with a fait accompli.
Just like he did when he chose Lucy Gray.
You notice him first. He is wearing a blood-red suit and a snow-white shirt. You wonder if subconsciously it's his reminder of the deaths of the people who allowed him to be where he stands now, but you prefer to think that the bastard simply has no conscience.
You could easily escape from him, but you don't want to. Not any longer. He will be the one running away from you. So you walk straight up to him, the click of your high heels echoing off the marble floor of the Parliament building.
"Nice suit." you say to him. He lifts his head and turns to you as he hears your voice. You can't read the look in his cold, blue eyes, but you don't care about that now. You're only here to stick a pin in him before his performance. "You wore your father's clothes and now you wear Sejan's? Maybe you haven't really changed at all." you scoff at him, and he shakes his head with an equally mocking smile as yours.
"This is probably the latest collection from your favorite designer. Not that I remember." he says, putting his hands in his pockets and watching you carefully as he takes a step towards you.
"Impossible. My favourite designer is Tigris. And I heard that lately you're too much of a snobbish, self-assured asshole to wear what she made for you."
"Maybe it's because she's turning you against me, trying to convince you that I'm a monster?" he says this ironically as you both stare at each other.
You notice that the rose is missing from his jacket pocket. His hair is also messier, as if he's running a nervous hand through it—a habit that obviously hasn't died with your Coryo. You frown at this but shake it off to respond to his taunt.
"Maybe you are actually a monster, Coriolanus? Didn't that occur to you? How could anybody do the things you did so easily? Or maybe Dr. Gaul calls this an unconventional, out-of-the-box way of thinking?"
"At least she's not pretending to be someone she's not." he growls at you, furious, a grudge shining in his eyes, at which you seethe in anger. He, of all people, has no right to resent you.
"At least I can honestly say I'm not a murderer. And what about you?"
Before you can react, he takes a step towards you. One of his hands wraps around your throat like a snake. However, he remembers that you are in a public place and quickly moves his hand to your cheek and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His icy eyes are locked on yours as he tries to read any reaction from you. You give him nothing. And you're damn proud of it.
"If you didn't come to wish me luck in my first public appearance as a candidate for president, you should go. Before I give you a real reason to call me a monster, little diamond." he whispers quietly, the tone of his voice laced with threat, but you don't give a damn.
"Oh, snowy… I really wish you a lot of luck. You'll need it, my boy." you say, patting his chest dismissively. You walk away, making sure to bump his arm with yours as you move past him to go to the hall where the first recording for the presidential candidatures of Panem is to be held.
And you already know that it will be hard for you not to look at him, as a furious surprise will appear on his face when he sees that you will also be presenting your programme and announcing your candidature.
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You've regretted your candidature many times over the past two weeks. Partly because you had to spend more and more time with the devil in a fancy suit. You didn't see this coming; you were too busy thinking about preventing him from winning. Now you had to attend balls with him and other candidates and various events that helped promote your campaigns, smile at cameras and photographers, and try to remain as polite and courteous to others as you needed.
Like now.
You were attending some important business event, and your uncomfortable high heels were digging into your skin, hurting you. But it was worth bleeding a little. You looked drop-dead gorgeous.
"Tomorrow you have an interview with the Capitol Times; the day after tomorrow we are promoting in the children's ward at the hospital; at the end of the week we both have to go to Fulvia Cardew's engagement party. And in the meantime, you have to go to at least three fittings of new clothes that Tigris made." Clemensia says, writing something down in her small notebook.
"Thanks, Clem. I don't know what I'd do without you." you say with a small smile as you sip your glass of champagne.
"You'd have to keep that stupid calendar and schedule yourself. If you want to help in some way, you can finally answer one of the many calls from Coriolanus. He torments both me and the servants in your house at night."
"And make my mother lose hope that someone is courting me? No thanks; this way, I have peace from her, and I don't have to talk to him longer than I should. Besides, I thought you liked it when I gave you the gifts he somehow managed to leave at my door."
"At some point, yes... but you will finally have to clean up the relationship between you two. Even if we win, Coriolanus will remain an important political player, and it would be good to have him on our side. Besides, it's obvious that he… oh shit. Gaul is coming." she says, terrified, and leaves you. You turn around just as the co-creator of The Hunger Games walks up to you.
“Miss Y/L/N. Congratulations. You surprised me.” you swallow the rest of the champagne and set the glass on the table behind you, preparing to face this crazy woman.
"I think half of the Capitol was in a similar condition. But I appreciate the gesture, Dr. Gaul." you say this with a polite smile as the woman looks you up and down. You're glad you're keeping yourself from trembling under her scrutinising, watchful gaze.
"Mr. Snow seemed to be particularly surprised. As soon as he returned to the lab, he came up with wonderful ideas for next year's Hunger Games." she boasts, and you smile fakely. It sickens you to think about what these two could have come up with for these poor children. But you don't show it. Instead, you chose to strike back.
"I heard that after Lucy Gray's disappearance, their... popularity dropped a bit. I hope things are going well with the sponsors? It would be such a shame if the project and ideas had to be... cancelled due to a lack of money."
"We're doing well. When Mr. Snow becomes president, I think the government will be more willing to fund them."
"IF Mr. Snow becomes president, Dr. Gaul." you correct her, slightly irritated. The woman smiles and nods her head mockingly.
"Of course... If." she says it with a wolfish, menacing smile.
You both stare at each other with hatred for a moment, both of you refusing to give up in your little battle. The atmosphere between you is tense.
You flinch when you feel a hand on your back. The delicate scent of roses begins to float in the air.
"Dr. Gaul. I am so happy to see you here. Y/N, you look amazing as always." Coriolanus says as he leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. You would wipe it in disgust if there weren't other people around you.
"Mr. Snow." Dr. Gaul greets him.
The mysterious smile never leaves her face as she watches the two of you. You remember what she just said. How Coriolanus was still so eagerly working with her on the Hunger Games. His hand on your back starts to burn you in an unpleasant way.
"Excuse me. I need to get some fresh air. It started to stink in here." you say, subtly implying that it's the scent of Coriolanus and his rose that bothers you as you walk away from them both.
You go to the roof of the penthouse, which is surprisingly empty, and take out a cigarette. You search for the lighter, thinking about what Gaul told you. Somehow you felt even more distant from Coriolanus... as if she emphatically confirmed what you already knew.
Your Coryo was completely gone. And there was nothing that could bring him back to you.
But why did you still care about him anyway?
"I didn't know you started smoking." you flinch when you hear his voice behind you.
You ignore him, trying to light the lighter, but to no avail. Apparently, today everything must have gone shitty for you. Seeing your struggles, he walks over to you. He takes a lighter from his pants pocket and holds it to your cigarette, lighting it.
"What the hell do you want?" you ask him madly, at which he raises his eyebrows, but he is not moving away from you.
"What? You won't even thank me? You know, I've helped you there. I could just leave you to talk with Gaul, but I walked in and took her attention from you." he says, stuffing the lighter and his hands into his pockets as he leans on the railing next to you, staring at the skyline of the Capitol below you.
"I didn't need a fucking hero. I could have left her at any time. Unlike you, I don't play vaseline, I don't humiliate myself, and I don't do anything I don't want to, just to please other people." you snort and blow a cloud of cigarette smoke at him. He coughs, looking at you offended, to which you just smirk.
"You know, I remember the time when you were doing everything in your power to please ME. In many, many ways, actually." he says, using his hand to wave away your clouds of cigarette smoke.
"Keep these memories close to you because they will never happen again. I'd rather be burned alive than ever sleep with you again." you say it with obvious disgust. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the furrow of anger forming between his eyebrows. "Don't frown. Or make-up artists will have a hard time covering your wrinkles."
"I have no idea why you are so aggressive and act madly when it comes to me. I didn't do anything to you." he responded firmly to your mocks, never taking those ice-blue irises off of you.
"That's the problem, Coriolanus! You think that you don't do anything wrong, when the truth is that you are taking actions that are terrible. I feel like puking just looking at you and thinking about how many children will suffer because of Dr. Gaul's and your crazy ideas." you burst out furiously at him. You are now standing opposite each other, both of you glaring at the other in a furious, defiant way.
"The Hunger Games are necessary."
"Bullshit." you interrupt him before he can make any arguments. You see him sigh, running a hand through his gelled hair.
You catch yourself subconsciously missing his curls and how you used to stroking them when he was lying with you on your couch and reading a set book for one of your classes…
"Have you ever been in the District? 10, 11, 12? No. You didn't. You have no idea what kind of people are leaving there. You live in the safety of the Capitol, and you have no idea how quickly these rats can start a civil war and rebellions. Did you forget what they did to us? How have we suffered? I lost my father, and my family went poor. I had to pretend that I was still a rich snob. Tgiris, my grandmother, and I starved more than once; they wanted to throw us out of the apartment. I had nothing but a meaningless name and family."
"You know, that was the time when you had everything. You had friends, family, and a girlfriend. My love and limitless devotion, respect, and admiration. Now what do you have left? Money? Power? Glory? Besides, people are not the same. They can be good, Coriolanus. The fact that you are too afraid to see or admit it is proof of how huge a coward you actually became." you say it disappointedly, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping on it.
"I am not..." he pauses as you look up at him, and your eyes meet. He thought that no one could silence him. But one look from you, full of resentment and sadness, makes him fall silent.
You make him feel weak. As if he was still that poor teenager who had to hide his family's terrible financial situation. Only now he's hiding the fact that your words are actually reaching him. That they actually hurt him.
He couldn't afford to have any weaknesses. He had to be strong, tough, and decisive. However, after one look at you, it was enough for him to begin to question everything he had learned under Dr. Gaul. To question everything he did after the fucking Hunger Games and Lucy Gray.
"Yes, you are. Everything you are doing and every bad decision you've made, you made out of fear. Fear of losing your life. Of losing your position. Of never coming back to the Capitol. You are a coward who desperately tries to play the brave man that matters in this world."
"You have no idea what it was like in the district! Or in the Hunger Games, when I had to get Sejanus out of there. You don't know what you would do in such a situation, so don't you dare stand there and judge me. Not when all I could think about in those days, what kept me away from absolute madness, was you." he says, desperately trying to present his actions to you as right, to make you understand his point of view and the reasons why he did all of these.
"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know what it's like. But I would never become the cause of the death of my best friend. You have his blood on your hands. I will never forgive you that." you notice him flinching at your words, but that's all you can see through the mask of indifference he suddenly decided to wear. But his eyes—his eyes and the emotions hidden in them—remind you so much of your Coryo.
"Do you think I have removed it from my memories? That his screams didn't haunt me in my dreams? That I simply forgot about him?"
"You are certainly on a good way to do it, Coriolanus." your soft whisper gives him goosebumps. You look at each other for a moment. When you realise he has nothing to say, you shake your head, laughing bitterly, mocking yourself for thinking for a moment that he really was more than just the cruel Gamemaker, and turn away.
You walk towards the exit, but suddenly you hear his quick footsteps behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist with one hand and holds your hands with the other, making sure you don't break away. He rests his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling your scent for a moment before whispering into your ear.
"Do you remember that place?" he asks, his nose stroking your cheek. "Our second date. Sejanus, let me take you to one of his parents' penthouses. They were supposed to be on vacation, but they came back earlier. We had to hide on the roof and wait since they would leave so we too could. We had a picnic here. I was holding you close to my chest, a little closer than I am doing now. It started to rain. I was furious because I wanted everything to be perfect for you, and as always, everything went terribly wrong. I wanted to look at the stars with you and run my hands through your hair while you fell asleep on my chest, cuddling up to me as if I were your teddy bear. I loved feeling the weight of you on me. In every circumstance. Anyway, we gathered everything and ran to your house. You let me into your room through the window. We took a hot shower together and..."
"And then happened the worst sex I've ever had." you interrupt him, trying to regain control of the situation. He only laughed at that, which made your heart skip a beat when, for the first time in so many months, you hear him laughing truly, not in a mocking, bitter, or fake way.
"The worst? Your moans and scratches on my back proved otherwise. Besides, considering it was the first time for both of us, I guess I did a good job. Your silky skin has haunted my dreams since that night. It never stopped. And judging by the way you are breathing right now, you also seem to think about that time fondly. We can do it again at my place tonight if you want. I am now in a much better position to truly make your nights unforgettable."
"I'd rather be bitten by one of Dr. Gaul's snakes, but thanks for the offer." you huff, getting out of his arms and pushing him away from you as you go to the exit of the Plinth's penthouse's roof.
"Don't tempt me. You know I can arrange it. Sucking the poison out of your delicate skin with my mouth is a really tempting alternative." he says, following you as you both return to the main hall.
"Disgusting pervert." you whisper over your shoulder so that only he can hear you in the crowd of elites and reporters who have gathered.
"Both of us, my darling. Both of us. But the point is..." he grabs your hand and helps you down the stairs as if he was a true gentleman. You would roll your eyes at this, but people have already noticed, you know, that you have hardened the mask of politeness on your face. "I remember everything. I am not losing my memory. I never will. Not about you. Not about us." he whispers, and you feel his blue eyes burning a hole into your temple with how intensely he stares at you.
"You must be mad to think that I will just go back to you. Besides, I don't have time for you. My voters are waiting for me."
He chuckles and gives you a mysterious, quizzical look that you can't read. But before you can analyse his stance, he pulls your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on it. His full lips tease your skin, setting it alight with the reminder of all the times he's had the opportunity to do this.
He pulled away from you as quickly as he leaned into your hand. He smiles, giving you a view of his pearly teeth. How pleased the devil is...
"We shall see, my little petal." he whispers. Your old nickname he gave you one day is sounding as perfectly sweet as it used to, and you are not sure how much strength you have left in you to not let him melt your heart. Then he walks away from you, leaving you in the crowd of other people.
And you stand there, rooted to the floor, and all you can do is stare at the back of his head as you try to snap out of the feeling of his lips against your skin, trying not to dream of experiencing all of him again.
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A week later, you were returning from another party. You managed to sneak out a little earlier than usual without anyone noticing. Relieved, you got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. You leaned against the wall and sighed, rubbing your neck, where you wore a diamond necklace. Your momentary alone relief didn't last long.
As usual, you smelled him first. The faint hint of roses hit you as the man leaned against the wall of the elevator next to yours, giving you some space. You glanced at him casually. This time, he didn't have a rose on his vest. He was also much paler.
"The makeup artists chose the wrong powder for you." you say, not knowing why you even initiated a conversation with him.
"Was Thomas so tired that he couldn't stay with you until the end? Was he too scared to hold on to the precious diamond that had fallen into his hands like a grain to a blind hen until the end of the night?" he responds to your taunt. You frown at the hint of jealousy in his voice.
Coryo has always been possessive and unsure of your relationship and whether you might leave him one day for someone better. Therefore, any man's attention towards you caused... unpleasant feelings for him. He obviously still had this behaviour towards you. Even though you were no longer together.
"He has an exam. Anatomy or some other shit. But don't worry, he will definitely accompany me when the election results are announced."
"Seriously? Are you now going to show off with that little boy-toy?" he asks you furiously. You can feel how his cold blue eyes are piercing right through you.
"Livia Cardew?" you scoff as well, opening your eyes to glare at him with an equally disgusted look. "But you know what? Actually, I'm not surprised. The biggest whore in Capitol. After you, of course."
"You slept with that whore 374 times. Which makes you equally slutty, little petal." he says with a cheeky smirk. You huff, folding your arms as you look at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe you were pathetic enough to actually count this."
"You're lucky I've lost count of the number of orgasms you've had because of me."
"And you are disgusting." you shake your head, impatiently waiting for the elevator to go down to the ground floor so you can get far away from him. You try hard not to think about all the times you had… done this.
But he doesn't let you go that easily. He leans down and brushes your hair back to give him better access to your ear to whisper.
"And you crave me as much as I crave you, my darling."
"Do you think that just because you started donating to charity organisations, I will suddenly fall into your arms or into your bed? You think I don't know you're doing this as part of a campaign? To get more votes? Are you that stupid to think that I will fall for it and believe that you are trying to be a better man for me?" you ask him, angry and defensive, mocking him.
"I'm starting to doubt my ability to do anything you could approve of. But it's nice that you still care about me enough to be interested in what I do."
"You can give up your candidature for president if you want to see me happy." he laughs at your words, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.
"And make it so easy for you? No way, my darling. We both know that only the two of us have a real chance of winning. You should finally surrender and join me. We both know this is where we'll end up. I, with you by my side, just as it has always been."
"Not always. I remember very well the time when it was only you and your songbird." the elevator is on the second floor when he aggressively presses the stop button.
You try very hard to hide from him the fact that you feel insecure in this situation. In a small space, with him practically at your fingertips, you don't know if you can control yourself. So you try to remember all the disgusting crimes he committed.
"It was just a game. A show for the Capitol. You know I had to win. It didn't end the way I wanted, but you know perfectly well that I had to do it." he says, placing his hands gently on your shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep your eyes on him and you standing still in your place for the time he talks.
"I've already told you this. There is always another choice." you growl in his face, furious, refusing to give up.
"You wouldn't even talk to me if I still remained a nobody. You would have dumped me the moment it became known to all Panem that my family was poor and that Snow's name meant nothing. And marrying you would only be a distant dream of a madman."
"As if you had any chance now." you mock him with a laugh. You somehow push him away from you and press the start button. The elevator starts moving down again.
"I have your parents' blessing."
"And my disgust and resentment towards you."
There is silence between you for a moment. He stubbornly stares at your face, trying to read some emotion there, but you give him nothing but a blank stare at the door in front of you as you impatiently wait for it to open.
"What do you do when you win?" his question catches you off guard for a moment. You look at him in shock.
"What?"
"What do you do when you win? Bring an end to the Hunger Games? Try to get me killed? Why are you doing all of this?" he asks, standing directly in front of you. Your chests rub against each other with every breath you take. You lift your head slightly, staring at him defiantly.
"So YOU won't win." you finally reply, shuddering as he takes your hand gently in his and starts tracing patterns on it with his thumb.
He leans towards you so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder if you wanted to. You shiver, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours and feeling his lips gently brush against your earlobe.
"Snow lands on top." he whispers, hot air caressing your ear as he bites the lobe of it.
"Y/L/N takes everything." you whine, digging your nails into his neck. He gasps in surprise, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he presses you against the elevator wall with his body.
"Or nothing. But don't worry. When I win, there will be no one who can stop me from marring you."
"IF you win, then I will be gone. You will never find me. Just like your little songbird." you can see the fury in his eyes at the mere mention of her. His grip on you tightens.
"She is not mine. You are. Accept it and end this. You don't want to be president. I do. There is nothing more powerful than you and me, so and this damn kind of punishment for me and accept your place as my First Lady."
"Maybe I don't want this… but it will be so funny to watch you fail," you say, tilting your head and watching him closely as his nostrils flare with rage at your stubbornness. "Besides, I'd rather shoot myself in the head than be your wife."
"There was a time when you wanted it. When it was all we dreamed of. You and me. Together. Against the whole world."
"That's how it was. When I thought you were worth something more, when you were my top priority. I thought you wanted something more than money and power, but it looks like I never meant for you that much to be as important to you as you were to me. Or maybe I didn't know you at all." you say, no longer hiding the hurt in your voice, and you press the button on the damn elevator to get away from him.
You promised yourself that you wouldn't show him how much he hurt you or how much you missed him. But apparently he wanted to make sure he destroyed not only your Coryo but you as well.
You look away from him, ignoring the fact that he suddenly went quiet next to you. All he did was look at you. And you avoided his gaze, afraid that you would melt in front of him and that you would show him your heart again.
The elevator opens, and you sigh in relief. However, it doesn't last long. You tense up when you see reporters downstairs, waiting at the exit.
"Smile for the picture." you say, and drag him with you towards the exit.
You quickly let go of his arm as he obediently follows you, and you try to ignore the fact that his fingers lightly brush against your hand as if he wants to grab it. You move away from him gently and quickly walk past the reporters and paparazzi.
You quickly get into your car and nod to the driver to go. You lean back in your seat and sigh deeply, placing a hand over your racing heart. You can't help but glance at Coriolanus.
Thanks to your car's tinted windows, he can't see you. Still, he watches your car with his eyes, and for a small moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all rotten to the core. Maybe, in his twisted way, he still cares about you.
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The first round of elections was behind you. As you expected, Coriolanus and you achieved the greatest results. The game for the presidency of Panem has begun to be fought solely between you two.
And you were about to play the first dirty card against him. Clemensia nods at you as you head towards the podium and the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone. Thank you very much for all your votes and the trust you have placed in both me and my, well, rival after all." people chuckle gently, you find Coriolanus' curious gaze in the crowd. "I am convinced that, no matter who of us wins the upcoming elections, Panem will be in good hands anyway." You see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he comes closer, moving freely through the crowd. The look in his blue eyes never leaves you for a minute. You would tremble, intimidated by his attention, if you didn't know, what would happen in a few minutes. "Without further ado, I would like to introduce someone who will certainly make this evening more pleasant. You have no idea how much I had to beg our star of the evening to agree to perform today. Ladies and gentlemen. At my ask and to your delight. The one and only Lucy Gray Baird!"
As you leave the stage, you glance at Coriolanus, seeing him staring at the woman with the guitar appearing on stage in shock and mild horror.
You stand further away from the crowd, on the other side of the room—as far away from Coriolanus as you can be—and watch him carefully, leaning against the wall.
You have to admit that Lucy Gray is stunningly beautiful. And the legend she has created around herself, her voice, and her skills only make her more perfect in the eyes of others.
You're not surprised that she charmed Coriolanus months ago and now. In fact, you expect Snow, too overcome with emotion upon meeting her again, to forget his façade and pursue her. With a bit of luck, maybe your people will be able to take compromising photos of him.
But you are surprised when, after watching her for a while, he shifts his gaze to the crowd of people, looking for something. You freeze when his eyes meet yours. You raise an eyebrow, not sure why, instead of staring at the girl, he stubbornly searches for your gaze. Or rather, you don't want to admit that you know the reason why, because that's exactly why you quickly leave the great hall of parliament and run away from the man who is now walking towards you.
And much to your misfortune, Coriolanus Snow learns from his mistakes. That's why you suddenly bump into someone a few metres from the exit at the end of the corridor leading to the elevator. You collide against a wall of toned muscles. His arms quickly wrap around you, keeping you from falling.
"Leaving so soon?" his whisper sent unwanted shivers down your spine, as did how close your face was to his.
"Get your hands off me." you snap at him and get out of his grip. You stare at the elevator, contemplating how to get past him and get in, but he sees your intentions in your eyes and blocks any escape route with his body.
"What game are you playing?" he asks, staring at you. You lift your head, returning his defiant glare. "I don't even care how the hell you found her. Why is she here? What do you need her for?"
"Shouldn't you try to catch your little songbird before she flies away again?" you mock, ignoring all of the questions he asked you.
"I am." he says, staring firmly at you, making you more confused by his actions than before. He should have been after Lucy Gray… why the hell was he keeping you pinned to the wall, blocking your only escape route with his body?
"What?"
"I am not letting you run away. We are solving this here and now." he says this, looking around the hall. You take advantage of his moment of inattention and try to free yourself from his strong grip, but he doesn't move even an inch in your struggle. Fuck his peacekeeper training.
"We have nothing to solve, get it into your stupid head!" you shout at him in frustration, unable to get out of his arms.
"You know what your main problem is? You don't allow yourself the idea that you might be wrong or that you don't know everything about me. I may be a monster, but I've never lied to you. About anything. Lucy Gray and I had nothing when you were with me. Whoever gave you these stupid rumours was lying. Ask her. She'll tell you that the only thing I did was kiss her. When I was drunk in District 12, exactly the day after I got there. And do you know why? Because I was convinced I had fucked up my life and I would never see your damn face again. And fuck, even kissing her couldn't get you out of my mind. All I thought was you. All I think about is you. I can admit it out loud. How about you?"
"I despise you." you growl angrily, struggling in his arms.
"Yes? Then why did you frame Livia for engagement to Festus? You think I don't know it's because of you that they were caught fucking in the garden together?"
"I wanted to discredit you. Show that your girlfriend is sleeping with anyone on the side. Besides, you made Thomas fail at university, and he had to retake his exams today, which is why he couldn't show up. I had to take revenge."
"No. You were jealous of me. You wanted to get rid of her and you did. Why are you playing the gardener dog? Why don't you just admit that you want me?" you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest to hold on to your internal irritation and fury at him. But it was a very demanding task, considering how his mesmerising icy-blue eyes were now watching you very carefully.
"I don't want you." you say, trying to sound firm but also a little indifferent, enough for him to believe you. But you can see by the way his eyebrow raises that you've screwed up something.
"Yes? Then kiss me." his sudden command leaves you extremely stunned. You almost lose the fight with yourself to keep your jaw from opening from shock.
"What?"
"If you despise me, if you don't care about me, then you will have no problem with kissing me and walking away like nothing had happened." he explains, moving closer to you, your noses brushing against each other, you feel his breath brush against your lips, and the warmth of his mouth is so close that it makes you feel as if you could actually touch him.
"Let me go. I'm not going to make a fool of myself for your own amusement. Those days are gone forever; we are not a couple, and we will never be together again. Get over it!"
"Then kiss me. C'mon. Prove your point. Kiss me as if you hate me. As if you despise every little part of me just as much as you claim. Prove that you have absolutely no feelings towards me despite hatred and grudges."
And God, you want it. You want it so much that it hurts you not to be able to press your lips to his right here and now.
You know that the moment your lips meet his, all your cold demeanour towards him will melt away like snow in spring. You know that you will easily return to his arms, giving yourself to him and proving nothing in your favor. And you've come so far—too far—to let him see past your facade now, to let him make you want him even more than you already do.
You shiver as he leans in so that his nose brushes yours as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. He doesn't make the first move. Of course not. This cunning snake tempts you to give in to your greatest, darkest desires, which you feel ashamed of for having managed to survive in the recesses of your heart.
"End this torment. For both of us sake."
Just a gentle touch, you think, hearing his whisper and feeling his body softly press against yours, complementing you perfectly as always. One taste of his lips. Just one...
Your heart beats fast, and your breaths are mingling in the small space still left between you two. With a trembling hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fucking eyes are all you can look at, the unspoken request shining so brightly in them that you can't mistake his desire for anything else. And you give in, tilting your head to place your lips so close to him...
A loud bang makes you both pull away from each other. A drunk senator staggers towards the elevator, nodding at the two of you. He mumbles something under his breath, and after a quick glance towards Coriolanus and a nod of his head, you decide that he will walk him away and make sure he doesn't tell (or remember) how outrageously close the two of you were just moments ago.
You walk back to the party, trying to calm down enough to let the blush fade from your cheeks.
You make sure that Clem sends Lucy to her hiding place after her performance, and you continue to politely smile and pose for photos, promoting your allegiance.
And the next day, when you are reading the morning newspaper, you notice in one of the photos that this bastard put a rose behind your ear.
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It was raining heavily.
It was late at night as you were preparing for your speech the next day. You walked around your room with a piece of paper in your hand, gesturing and practicing proper intonation and posture.
“Miss Y/L/N?” you stop when you hear the voice of one of your maids. "We have… an unusual situation."
"What? Did something happen?" you ask, confused at her uncertain tone of voice.
"It depends on how you interpret the situation, miss." you raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She points to the window. You frown in surprise, but walk over to the window anyway.
"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" you whisper, seeing Coriolanus standing in your garden. He was completely soaked. His hair and coat were soaked with water, clinging to him as he stared at your window, standing still as the rain hit him.
"David says he's been there for several hours. He tried to talk to him and get him to leave, but Mr. Snow… just stands there."
Your first instinct would be to close the curtains and pretend he wasn't there, but you didn't want to think about the scandal that would start if anyone found out that your rival was standing outside your window in the full rain like some lovesick puppy. It was obvious he had to be here for a reason. It was probably some dirty play on his part. Something that was intended to negatively impact your candidature.
But then you looked at him. Even when you showed up, his gaze was... disturbingly empty. He couldn't fake it that well. It was not like he could completely hide his reaction to seeing you.
"Does anyone else know about this?" she shakes her head, and you sigh. You have no idea why he's standing outside your window in the heavy rain. You're just thanking fate for him choosing the day your parents left the Capitol to behave so strangely. You just hoped no meddlesome paparazzi saw him. "All right. Make sure it stays that way." you ask her and walk out of your room.
Walking downstairs to get to your coat and umbrella, you wonder why the hell he's standing outside in front of your mansion, staring at your window, risking getting sick with all the rain pouring down on him furiously.
It has happened before that he was standing under your window. Before this whole Hunger Games thing started, Dr. Gaul and Lucy Gray he would often sneak up to you through your window to talk about what was bothering him.
But that was a long time ago. And now you had no idea what he was doing out there and in all this rain.
You wrap your coat around yourself and take an umbrella as you go outside. The rain somehow seeps through your shields, hitting you unpleasantly. Water droplets start to soak into your clothes. You wonder how he stayed there for so many hours.
"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?! Is this another one of your sick tricks against me?!" you shout, walking towards him. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on you as he stands there, motionless. You notice that his eyes are bloodshot from crying, and his hands are shaking slightly, as well as all of his body. You don't know if it's from the cold or from crying. "Coriolanus?" you ask, starting to seriously worry about him.
He trembles even more, not looking at you. He fixes his gaze on your shoes. What worries you is that he is completely oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. As if he didn't feel anything at all anymore.
“Alright, come on.” you say, pulling him by the arm towards your mansion. You hide him a bit under the umbrella, but it doesn't change the fact that he's soaked like a dog. Maybe even worse.
His silence, the lack of any emotion on his face, worries you. You haven't seen him like this before. So… empty.
You enter the house through the back entrance. You put the umbrella down and turn towards him. Seeing that he's still not reacting to any stimuli and acting like he's on some kind of autopilot, you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his coat.
He doesn't comment on your behavior. Neither do you say anything. You just want to get him out of all those wet clothes so he won't get seriously sick... You have no idea why you worry or why you care. Maybe you are on some kind of autopilot too.
As you lead him to your room, you are involuntarily reminded of all the times he snuck there with you. When you were still the closest people to each other in this world. When you came to each other for comfort. When you were each other's only shelter.
"I should still have some of your old clothes here. You should go change and take a warm bath. There's no way you wouldn't get sick after this." you say, walking over to your clothes chest and looking for some of his old shirts and pants.
"Grandma'am is dead." he says it in an empty, emotionless tone of voice. You freeze in shock and slowly turn to face him. He still stands where you left him, his gaze blankly fixed on the space next to you.
You don't say anything. You don't know what to tell him anyway. You just stare at him, waiting for him to say something more. It bothers you how he just… doesn't do anything. Acting as if all that was left of him was an outer shell, a facade that barely held together.
You walk up to him and take his cold hand hesitantly into yours. You stare at them for a moment and look up, meeting his icy, bloodshot eyes.
"I... I am so sorry, Coriolanus." his bitter laugh at your words might be a good sign after his disturbing behaviour earlier, but somehow it worries you even more than his silent attitude and blank stare.
''You will never forgive me, will you? You will always see me only as a monster? As a murder and nothing more?" he asks, hearing that you still call him by his name, even at a time like this. The version he hated, instead of the sweet nickname he hadn't heard in a long time. Which even Tigris stopped using.
"Thta's not..." you start, concerned at the calm tone in which he says it. As if the truth of what was happening between you was starting to dawn on him.
"This is exactly what I am to you! A heartless monster! But you know what?! I AM NOT! And you... you are a hypocrite." he starts getting angry and pushes your hands away from him as he paces around your room.
"Me?!" you scream at him, disbelieving. You step in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to face you.
"YES! You! You may not be a murderer, but you do something much worse. Your indifference, your hatred, and your aversion towards me—do you think it doesn't do anything to me? You've been killing me and hurting me day after day since I left the fucking Capitol and was sentenced to exile. And since I came back, your face, your voice, and your memories haunt me more than ever before. Missing you is killing me. Watching you from afar is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is killing me. You said you could confidently say you're not a murderer. I do not agree. You kill me every day, and each time in a more cruel way. But all I can do is follow you like some faithful puppy, waiting for you to change your mind and give me a chance to show you that I'm not lost, that I'm not a monster, and that I didn't WANT any of this to happen! I spend every sleepless night, when I can't pass out in bed due to exhaustion and lack of sleep, thinking about you! And even now... when my life is falling apart around me, all I can do is... come to you. Just like I've always done."
He's shaking with emotion, and you think you've never seen him so moved or so shaken before. You wonder if he might have gotten drunk, but those thoughts quickly leave you when he suddenly leans down and wraps you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to shiver. His wet clothes start to soak yours, but all you feel is his breath on the skin of your neck.
"I miss you so much, petal…" he whispers, and you stroke his wet hair, unable to tell if it's his tears soaking the collar of your shirt or his wet clothes or skin from rain. In fact, it doesn't really matter to you at all right now.
"Why did you come here? Of all places…"
"And where else could I go?" he interrupts you, his eyes looking at you so… pleadingly. As if there really was no other place on earth he could go in such a situation, where he could wallow in his grief and despair.
"I don't know… to Livia or…" he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are terribly cool against yours, but it only enhances how amazing you feel as he caresses your lips tenderly with his. 
He slowly steals the warmth from you, which you're strangely happy about while he's deepening the kiss. You press yourself against him, slowly warming him up, his wet clothes uncomfortably transferring their wetness to yours, which you ignore in favour of kissing him. Just like the drops of cold water dripping from his hair onto your forehead, which doesn't sober you up and doesn't make you move away from him. If anything, you place your hand around his neck and pull him closer.
Eventually, though, you both have to pull away, gasping for air. You both take shaky breaths, his forehead resting against yours, as your senses slowly begin to come back to you. But you're secretly glad that his hands don't leave you as he uses the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek, your lips, your cheekbone, anywhere he has a chance to touch you, as long as he doesn't take his hand away from your face.
"Only you saw me in my fragile form. Only you saw my shattered heart and the shell of myself. I... only allow myself to be vulnerable with you." he whispers with his eyes closed, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, trying his best to hold on to you as if you were his only anchor.
"Being sad, mad, or vulnerable doesn't mean being weak. Don't be ashamed of having emotions. I... all I ever wanted... was for you to... to be something more than all of these people in the Capitol. To be someone more than what Dr. Gaul tried to mould you into. You are a good man, Coryo. Please show me that you can still be that man. That my friend and lover is still there."
You don't talk to each other anymore after that. You don't know whether he has heard your request or is even considering granting it. All you know is that you lost that night. That the rational part of you had gone to fuck itself, seeing him so vulnerable and hurt, just as you were.
So, when he tries to break away from you and walk away, you grab his wrist tightly, stopping him.
"Stay. Don't go." you whisper. You don't know if it's a request or an order. He doesn't think twice about it either, turning back to you after a moment and pulling you into his chest as he holds you tightly in his arms and buries his face in your hair.
And he stays. You manage to get him to take a hot shower and some medicine in case he catches a cold.
This night, you fell asleep in each other's arms. Every now and then you stop stroking his hair, his back, and drawing patterns on his chest to use the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the tears that sometimes fall from his gorgeous blue eyes.
And in the morning, when all that remains from him is a scent of him, of his cologne, and a dent on the pillow, you can't help but feel disappointed and silently hope that maybe your Coryo is still alive.
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You haven't had a chance to be alone with him since then. You both are too busy running your campaign and the ongoing rivalry between you two.
However, you notice that he has stopped sending gifts, late-night phone calls, or other ways of getting your attention. Whatever relationship you had was purely political. You didn't know whether to be happy or cry.
Tigris stopped talking about him. You don't know if it's a good change, but she doesn't mention her cousin anymore. She was quieter after her grandmother died. The black clung to her wardrobe and skin, highlighting her paler than usual complexion.
It was the evening they were supposed to announce the election results.
You took the elevator to the top floor of the Snow apartment, picking up Tigris and Clem on the way and heading to your house to either celebrate your success or failure.
You sigh tiredly, leaning against the elevator behind you. You close your eyes and listen as it moves up to the next floor.
You open your eyes when you hear a soft, buzzing sound. Things have changed a bit since you were last here. The interior was, of course, renovated and more elegant, but somehow... more emptier.
You try to shake off the feeling as you go further.
"Tigris?! I'm here!" you shout as you enter the living room.
You look around curiously, waiting for the blonde. You walk over to the bookshelf, looking through its contents. You choose one of the books and sit on the couch, but before you open it, you notice a framed photo on the coffee table.
You take the frame in your hands and look at an old photo of you and Coryo at the end of one year at the Academy. You cup your hand around his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you press a kiss on his cheek.
You smile as you remember the circumstances of taking this photo.
Sejanus found an old camera among his father's belongings. He insisted on taking photos to celebrate the end of a difficult year of study for all of you. You didn't know that Sejan developed the photos and gave them to Coriolanus.
And you certainly didn't expect him to keep them.
“I'm afraid Tigris is not here.” you place the photo on the coffee table and slowly turn towards Coriolanus. His hair is not combed with gel; it is slightly messy, and he has those adorable, damn curls on his head again. "She left a few minutes ago. You must have passed each other."
"Oh. She probably went to Clem's." you say, standing there slightly awkwardly and looking at him. He's wearing a black shirt and pants. Slightly wrinkled for your taste and definitely too wrinkled for his. "Are you alone?" you ask, unable to stop yourself.
"I am." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, walking around the couch so that he's now standing next to you, and picking up the book you were planning to read before Tigris came downstairs. "I guess your Thomas is waiting for you at your home."
"We... kind of broke up. Well, we weren't together, but… our paths diverged." you admit, taking the opportunity to have his back turned to you as he walked over to put the book back on the shelf. You can see his shoulders tense slightly. You've never wanted to run your hands down his muscular back more.
"What a pity. Right when I remembered his name…" he murmured. You take a few steps towards him, the click of your high heels echoing throughout the empty apartment.
"You always knew it, you were just too offended and angry to use it." he chuckles at your words and turns to face you, leaning his back gently against the bookshelf.
"Maybe." he hums, nodding his head, his eyes studying you intently.
"Maybe." you repeat after him, warmth rising in your chest as you see a stray strand of his hair fall onto his forehead.
"You should go back. I believe they will announce the results soon." he moves past you to grab the photo from the coffee table and places it on the chest of drawers next to the chair next to the bookcase. In the meantime, he turned on the TV, and he was right—they were going to report the results soon.
"What will you do if… you don't win?" you ask him, and he freezes for a moment. He sets things on the shelf, trying to arrange everything perfectly as he ponders his answer. You are getting a little nervous since you can't see his eyes or facial expression.
"I'll think of something for myself. Don't be happy. You won't be able to dance over my grave for a long time." you snort, shaking your head in amusement at his answer.
"I believe that in this case, it will be you who will be dancing at my funeral. And quite quickly."
"Stop it. You know damn well that I would never hurt you." he snaps at your answer as he turns to face you. You have been taken aback by his sudden reaction, but your defense system quickly kicked in.
"Sejanus..."
"I regret it every fucking day. Every day I wake up in the morning and don't see you on the other side of my bed. Every day I spend time surrounded by people I can't trust. Every day when I see Tigris' betrayed look and your disappointed, hurt gaze, it haunts my dreams as much as his screams. And maybe I'm a monster because I really don't care if he lives or dies, but I REGRET IT. Honestly. By you. Because of you. Because I lost you. I... I had lost you." he whispers the last sentence, as if it's only now dawning on him what really happened. It breaks your heart to see him like this, especially after what happened a few weeks ago.
"Coriolanus..." you say this and reach out to grab his arm, but this time he's the one pulling away from you. And the treatment you've gotten from him, just the same as you've once treated him, is tasting bitter.
"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol.
You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now.
'Coriolanus... I..."
"And the president of Panem becomes… Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations, Madam President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. You won. You became president.
Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. But not that you can't handle it. Not that you'll have a lot of new responsibilities, or even how many people you'll have to deal with from now on. NO. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore.
You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you.
"Congratulations." his words snap you out of your shock and numbness. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to take it and shake it. But you can only stand there, staring at him as you try to sort out your feelings. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Madam President?"
You shake your head.
You hear him snort, laughing bitterly at your action, believing this is another example of your stubborn behaviour towards him. He drops his hand, obviously hurt, and is about to respond when you suddenly take a step towards him, cup his cheeks in your hands, and pull him in for a kiss.
He is surprised. Probably the same as you, but he gets over it rather quickly as he automatically responds to your kiss, caressing your lips with his as fervently as ever.
At some point, you end up on his couch, your hands moving from his neck to under his shirt. Your touch breaks him out of the trance you put him in. He takes your hands in his and moves them away from his body.
"I don't want your pity." he huffs, pulling away from you as he stands in front of the couch. You pull him towards you by his shirt so that he's straddling you, and you kiss him again, effectively silencing him as your hands land on the buttons of his shirt.
"You've never had it." you mumble between kisses, trailing your fingers over the bare skin and muscles of his back, and he moans softly into your neck, leaving a few hickeys there along his way to the buttoms of your own blouse. "It was always either my love or grudge."
"And now?" he asks, moving away from you again. His blue eyes stare intently into yours, and you know your answer depends on how this evening goes. And you missed the comforting feeling of his skin against yours too much to worry about his morality, of which you were apparently the sole soul that wanted and was able to take care of.
"Both of them." you reply, licking your lips. Maybe he was right from the beginning? Maybe you were destined to end up together? Maybe you were really the only thing that could keep him on the right path? But were you willing to devote your life to keeping him in check?
"I can work with that." you moan as he kisses you while lifting you off the couch. Your blouse falls somewhere on the floor as he carries you along the familiar path to his bedroom.
His lips caress yours gently like never before. His hands are practically everywhere, gently stroking every bit of your exposed skin. He pins you against his bedroom door and sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey. You moan again, causing the same reaction from him.
"Please, don't ever leave me again." he whispers into your mouth before trying to devour you again.
"Then don't give me a reason to do it." you whisper back, combing his hair as he pulls away from you enough to open the door. He kisses you all the way to his bed, stroking your waist gently.
He lays you down on the bed, his mouth moving to your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a few marks there as his hands moved down to the button of your pants.
"Wait. Wait." he listens to you immediately. He freezes, lifting his head to look at you with concern and a worried expression on his face. "You're not mad that I won?" he gives you such a beautiful smile and laugh that, for a moment, all you can do is watch him.
He was so ethereal... breathtaking in every sense of this word. You have no idea how you managed to stay away from him for that long... even knowing what he did.
"I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I'll get over the fact that you won't be my First Lady."
"Well... you can be my First Lord... or something like that..." he laughs at that and leans in to kiss you. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him closer to you. You moan into his mouth as his bare skin touches yours.
You whine in protest as he pulls away from you. He looks deep into your eyes and caresses your cheek tenderly with his hand.
"You sure?" you smile slightly and nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you closer to him again. "We shall create a dynasty, my beautiful little petal." he promises you, placing soft kisses on your collarbones. You run your hands through his blond locks, pulling his head and lips to yours. "My most precious diamond." he plants another kiss, this time on the corners of your mouth, undoing your bra. "Mine."
"Coryo..." you moan, and he responds in kind, happy to finally hear his nickname falling lovingly from your lips like it used to.
You don't care what happens next. What will happen the next day? What will happen when you take over as president? Will he try to gain more influence than you? Will he continue working for Gaul? Or maybe you will unite your forces and create a presidential couple that Panem has never seen before. You do not know. All he cares about is his touch, his mouth, and his body against you.
And in the morning, when you wake up wrapped in his arms as he places kisses on your temple and tenderly, lazily draws patterns on your back with his fingers, you realise how good it was to be back where you belonged.
You realise how good it felt to wake up in your Coryo's arms again. Even if neither of you were the same person you once were. And you will certainly have more than one fight, dramatic breakup or silent fight for influence and power.
But after all, love was stronger than any grudge you could feel towards your Coryo... or at least as long as he still was him.
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audrey-emeralds · 4 months
Text
Smashing Diamonds
Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader
Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex
A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!
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Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.
However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.
" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.
~~~time skip~~~
After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.
" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.
" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.
" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.
" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "
You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.
Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.
You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.
" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.
" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "
You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.
" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.
" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.
" In that case, drink the fuck up! "
Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.
You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.
Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.
" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.
" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.
" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.
" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.
" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "
" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.
" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.
The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.
Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.
Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.
As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.
The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.
Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "
Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.
His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.
You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "
" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.
" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.
" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.
" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "
He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.
You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.
You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.
" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "
" Is this what you came for? "
You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "
Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.
As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.
" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.
" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.
" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.
" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.
" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.
" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.
He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.
You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.
" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.
" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.
" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.
Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.
" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.
" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "
" We will see if you will. "
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strang3lov3 · 6 months
Text
Halloween Special
Summary: You dress up as Joel for Halloween, and Tommy helps you enhance your costume. Joel fucking hates your costume. God, you're annoying.
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Warnings: smut, arguing, oral (f receiving) male masturbation, joel jerks himself off while eating u out, southern phrases, unprotected piv, rough sex, Joel stuffs your mouth with part of his costume to shut you up, creampie, secret Ron Swanson (Joel dresses up like a pirate the way Ron Swanson does), yee haw mothafuckas
A/N: This story absolutely can be read as a standalone, but if you like these two and would like to see more of their antics, they the Mall Rats and you can read more about them in my masterlist ! thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️❤️ btw it is my birthday🎂🎉🥳i'm 21 today! And if you were feeling so inclined i wouldn't say no to some birthday wishes <3
“Why do all of these women’s costumes look like they’re from Victoria’s Secret?”, you ask as you and Joel rifle through the pile of twenty year old Halloween costumes. You’ve just gotten back from an old Spirit Halloween store with Joel, and now you’re sorting through costumes for the people of Jackson at his house. Some are salvageable and in good condition, some are old and moldy. 
Halloween doesn’t make much sense post-apocalypse. If there’s any candy left, it’s all rotten. It’s not practical for kids to trick-or-treat for baked goods and apples, the few sweets Jackson has to offer. So instead, Maria and Tommy are hosting a Halloween potluck at their home. All are invited and encouraged to dress up, bring food. The party’s tonight.
“Who knows,” Joel mumbles, “Just how it was.”
“Did you dress all slutty too?”
“‘Course I did. Turned all kinds of tricks back in my prime.”
“Then here–”, you toss Joel a nurse costume, “Be a slutty nurse for the party.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
You snicker to yourself as you sort the piles. You’ve got girls’ and boys’ costumes sorted by size, and along with mens’ and women’s. “What are you gonna dress up as, then?”
“I dunno. Do I have to?”, Joel asks, “I don’t even wanna go.”
“Too bad, you have to. And you have to dress up, too. It’s mandatory.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “What are you going as, then?” you shrug in response. Joel tosses you a costume, the guy in the picture seemingly wearing a sort of hat shaped like a thumb. “Knucklehead’, it reads. So fucking stupid. “Get it?”
“Ha-ha,” you throw the costume back in his direction. The costumes are all sorted now, so Joel bags up each pile to take to Maria. “Do you want any help with those bags?” you ask. 
“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.” 
“Will I see you tonight?”
“Depends. How slutty you dressin’?”  Joel opens the door and grabs the bags of costumes.
“You know, the usual. Lingerie and cat ears.”
“Mmm. Definitely stayin’ home, then. Get the door for me?” Joel asks as he’s standing in the doorway with the bags in his hands. 
“Sure,” you nod. And as Joel leaves and you shut his door, his flannel draped over a chair catches your eye. You have the best costume idea. 
You get to Maria and Tommy’s around six. Tommy greets you at the door, hair slicked back and wearing a cape, his usual toothy grin enhanced by plastic fangs. There’s red makeup resembling dripping blood from the corners of his mouth. “Hey you,” he says. “What do we have here?”
You clear your throat and speak in a lower affectation, “Shut up and quit smilin’,” before breaking into a fit of giggles. 
Tommy laughs too. “Joel?”
“Bingo,” you reply. You’re wearing Joel’s flannel and a simple pair of jeans, with an exaggerated scowl. 
“Costume is spot on, ‘cept for one thing,” you raise your eyebrows and Tommy continues, “You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.”
“Oh, stop it,” you blush and smack his arm. “Speaking of, Joel here yet?”
“Oh, yeah. Off in the kitchen or something. He’s gonna hate your costume, darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ hate it.” 
“Good, that was the plan,” you smile mischievously. 
“I like how you roll, sister,” Tommy drawls. “An’ in fact…” Tommy looks around himself before moving a hand to your waist and stealthily guiding you to a nearby bedroom, his baby’s nursery. 
“What are we doing, Tommy?”
“Shh, be cool, be cool,” Tommy tells you. He loves your costume, but he’s got an idea. A great idea, a way to improve it. He picks up a bottle of baby powder from the changing table and sits you down, then sprinkles some in your hair and combs it through with his fingers. “Now we’re cookin’,” he says. “Gotta get you that silver fox look, like Joel.” 
 “Ahh,” you hum in agreement. Should have thought of that one. That’s good.
“And–” Tommy continues, “You gotta talk like him too. You know how to do that?” 
“Sure,” you clear your throat and speak in a low tone again, mocking Joel. “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you–”
“Oh, very close,” Tommy laughs, “Nah, you gotta get southern on his ass, sweetheart. You know what I’m sayin’?” you shake your head no. “That’s okay. M’gonna teach ya.”
Tommy spends the next ten minutes running through a list of southern words and phrases, teaching you how to speak in a southern accent. At the end, you’re both in a fit of giggles. “God, sweetheart, I love ya. Joel’s gonna shit a brick.” 
You come out of the nursery with Tommy and make your way into the kitchen where Joel’s sitting. He’s at the counter, alone, snacking on some carrot cake. You’re still trying to compose yourself, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Howdy, pardner.”
“Uh, hi,” Joel eyes you and Tommy suspiciously. He does not like the way you’re both smiling, definitely causing trouble. “The hell are you two so happy about?”
“Nothin’.” you say, looking at Tommy. He subtly nods in approval. Don’t pronounce the ‘ing’ at the end of those words. It’s ‘In’. Nothing, nothin’. Fucking, fuckin’. Something, somethin’. “Uh, Joel, what’s your costume?”
“What’s it look like? I’m a pirate,” he grumbles. He’s got an…interesting take on a pirate costume. He’s wearing a plain button down shirt, striped pajama bottoms, and a long red tie tied around his tummy. You’re pretty sure there was a men’s pirate costume in the pile that you had sorted from earlier. 
Tommy brushes your hair from your ear and whispers something. You smile, then speak to Joel. “Well, don’t you look cuter than a dimple on a bug’s ass.” 
“Did you just have a stroke?” Joel squints at you, “Wait a fuckin’ second–that’s my shirt.”
You look down at your shirt in mock surprise, “Well slap butter on my ass and call me a biscuit! I guess it is your shirt, Joel!”
Joel’s blushing, redder than a tomato. His flannel is ill fitting, but to Joel, it looks perfect on you. He swallows thickly. You’ve got one less button closed than what he wears, and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes fall lower. “Where did you even–never mind. You - I told you - God dammit, this ain’t–”
“This ain’t funny,” you interrupt, matching his tone perfectly. 
Tommy’s giggling like an idiot next to you, then faces his palm up by his hip for a high five. You slap his palm and this enrages Joel, who glares at Tommy. “Don’t encourage this. The fuck is the matter with you?” Goddamn little brothers. 
“What, don’t y’all like my costume? I’m you.” 
“‘Course you are,” Joel grumbles. “Though a witch would be more fitting,” He looks at you closer, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?”
“I’m a silver fox just like you, Joel.”
Joel rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do not call me that. I can’t even look at you right now. Jesus Christ.” He eats the last of his cake, then stomps off, away from you and Tommy. 
“You,” a voice interrupts. It’s Maria, dressed as a black cat. She’s so cute. “You two are playing with fire. Tommy, leave this girl alone. Joel’s gonna wring her neck.”
Tommy shrugs. “It was her idea.” 
Maria doesn’t care. She smacks Tommy upside the head and ushers him towards the living room leaving you all by yourself. Tommy turns back to you, busted, he mouths. So you look for Joel. 
You make your way through the living room, check the porch. It’s only when you’re in a hallway that you feel a strong hand grip your forearm and drag you to the guest bedroom that you realize where Joel stormed off to. “What in tarnation?” you exclaim, and Joel locks the door. “This bedroom ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 
Joel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and take off your pants. Do it now,” he grunts. You smirk and begin unbuttoning your - Joel’s - shirt. “Pants,” he scolds you, annoyed. “You keep my shirt on for this.” 
You quit unbuttoning the shirt, “Thought you don’t like my costume?”
“I don’t,” Joel replies. You can see the tent in his pants, how achingly hard he is. You smirk. He’s all pissed off and worked up, a brutal combination. Your favorite combination. All because you’re wearing his shirt. Not really, though. You know the gray hair and the southern accent are what’s really pissing him off. You wearing his shirt is just fine. 
In a fit of giggles, you can barely get the words out, “You’re hard as a match–wait,” you pause, unable to control your laughter. You catch your breath before continuing, “Shit fire and save matches, you’re hard as a r–”
“Don’t have time for this,” Joel grumbles. In one fell swoop, he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, tossing them elsewhere. He shoves you on the bed before kneeling at the edge, pulling you by your hips. The cold air has your skin erupting in goosebumps that are then soothed by his hot breath on your thighs, as he presses sloppy kisses into your skin. “You have no–” he kisses your other thigh, “Fuckin’ idea,” then drags his tongue up your soft flesh, “What you’re doin’ to me, wearin’ my shirt like that. M’gonna devour you, sweetheart.”
Joel startles you by licking a long, fat stripe right up your hot and slick core, groaning as he tastes you, “Fuck,” you moan, fingers carding through Joel’s hair. You know this is getting tired. Seriously. Time and place. But even with his head between your thighs, you can’t stop. You struck gold. “Heaven to Betsy, it seems I have a visitor!” 
Joel sighs as he pulls away from your core and stares at you, unimpressed. “You done yet?”
“Darn tootin’,” You get no reaction from Joel. “Yes...I’m done.” 
“So fuckin’ sick of you. S’not funny. I don’t talk like that.”
And he’s right back where he was. First he’s inhaling you, your sweet scent, he licks another long stripe up your pussy, his tongue soft and firm against your core. He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning into your skin and savoring the way you taste.  He keeps one arm wrapped around your thigh while the other is pulling down his striped pajama bottoms just over his cock, the waistband resting beneath his balls. Joel spits on your pussy, then drags his thumb up and down your core, collecting the mixture on his fingertips before spreading it on his cock. He grips himself tight, stroking himself up and down as his tongue teases your entrance, exploring your sex.
You can feel his shoulder jerk with every movement of his hand on his cock. You wish you could see it, his shaft shiny with your slick and the head red and swollen.
“Good lord,” Joel whispers against you. He eats you like he’s starved, eyes closed and lips wrapped around your clit. His fingertips dig into your thighs at a bruising pressure, his nose is buried in the coarse hair that covers your mound. “Fuckin’ good…so fuckin’ good,” Your skin, your musk, your arousal. He’s addicted to it, addicted to the taste of your pleasure. And Christ, the way his flannel drapes over your stomach, peeking over the tops of your thighs. He could die a happy man right here, between your thighs. 
“Joel,” you cry, rocking your hips against his face. You’re moving too much. He bites your thigh and holds you firmer, his bicep flexing against you under the soft fabric of his shirt.
He alternates between lapping at your dripping core, sucking your sensitive clit, and fucking you on his tongue. Whatever he wants to do to you, because this is his treat. His.
“Yeah Joel, right there,” you whimper. You can feel it in your thighs, your gut, that familiar closeness is back. Under Joel’s tongue, you’re unraveling, coming undone for him. “M’so close.”
“This ain’t about you,” he growls. “Y’got yer kicks already, didn’t you? Teasin’ me in your little getup. Pokin’ fun and bein’ mean t’me.” 
“No, Joel, I wasn’t–”
“I don’t care, sweetheart,” Joel says softly as he works himself. You hear the slick sounds of his fist slapping against his skin. “I don’t care. This ain’t about you. M’doin’ this f’me. Don’t you dare come.” 
But you do. Not out of defiance, not to piss him off further. You just can’t help yourself. The way he purrs and growls into your skin, the way his arm holds you in place so firm. And his tongue, working pure fucking magic against you. Your orgasm ripples through you violently, taking you by storm. It feels hot and electric, intense and overpowering. Generously, he works you through it, licking and lapping at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body that he can get. Static rings in your ears and you’re limp, pliant on the bed, eyes closed in pure bliss.
When you finally open your eyes, you realize Joel is standing above you, breathing heavily. Cock still achingly hard in his fist. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he breathes.
“It was an accident,” you reply.
“Accident, my ass.” You bite your lip to hide your smirk. Joel knows that look on your face. Mischief. He reads you like a book, knows that you’re not done with your little act as you pull him onto the bed, flip him on his back and mount him. He knows exactly what you’re planning. Something about saving a horse, riding a cowboy. Of course you are. God, you’re exhausting.
You reach between your bodies and line his head up with your entrance, then sink down on him. Slowly, savoring the way he stretches you out. It hurts. He didn’t use his fingers on you. But you’re committed to what you have planned.
“Joel,” you breathe, rocking your hips slowly against him. “I have something to tell you.”
“What could you possibly need to tell me now, motormouth?” That devious smirk on your face…he knows what you’re about to say, answering his own question. He rolls his eyes, exasperated, “For the love of god…Go on, then. Get it out of your system, numb nuts.”
“YEEEE HAWWW!” you squeal, and Joel lunges forward to wrap a hand over your mouth. He did not think you were gonna be that loud. The party’s loud, but not that loud. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “The fuck is the matter with you? You cannot scream like that…Christ almighty.”
He flips you over, pulls out of you and rips the tie off of his belly. “My fuckin’ turn, now. Drivin’ me to drink,” He stuffs it into in your mouth, “Can you breathe?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he retaliates. He wraps your legs around his waist and lines up with your entrance once more, burying himself to the hilt in a quick shove with his hips. You gasp, your voice muffled by his tie.
He finds his pace quickly, pistoning into you at a devastating pace. Hard and fast and deep, like you love. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he pants. “You’re impossible. You know that? Impossible.”
You can’t smile, can’t speak. With your mouth stuffed full you can do is look at him with wide eyes, and all Joel can think is god, you have no business being so pretty and so fucking irritating at the same time. Joel’s shirt is buttoned halfway up your body and he watches your tits bounce under the fabric with every thrust of his hips. Your nipples taut and hard, the shirt falling away from your torso and framing your body just so, like you’re a painting, just for him.
“God,” Joel grunts. You wrap your legs tighter around him, hold his forearms that cage your head. You look into his eyes as he fucks you, his usual sparkling brown eyes nearly black with lust. And it might get you into trouble, but you need more. Need to feel him, taste him. Pulling the tie out of your mouth, you lift your head, kissing and sucking up his neck and all the way to his jaw and his cheek still slick with your own arousal. You taste yourself on his skin as you kiss his face, lips just centimeters away from meeting his own.
Joel makes all sorts of strangled noises as he pounds into you. His muscles tense and you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen inside you, and with his last few strong and deep thrusts, he spills into you. He comes hard, painting your walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.
He catches his breath on top of you as you trace lazy patterns into his back and his scalp, his head resting against the mattress. Completely drained of his energy. You can feel him going soft. “Joel, I need a rag or something before I make a mess on this bed.”
“Oh, yeah,” He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees his tie in his peripheral vision. He takes it, 
“You weren’t s’posed to take this out of your mouth,” he says, “Least you stayed quiet for once. Maybe you could be quiet the rest of the night, hm?” he mumbles as he pulls out of you, wiping you down gently with the tie. He folds it up to keep the mess of his spend contained. “You do that for me?”
You smile. If only you weren’t all out of the sayings that Tommy taught you anyway. Joel helps dress you in your pants and underwear again, straightens out the buttons on your flannel. He tells you that you don’t have to give it back to him as you comb your fingers through his hair, taming it. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon.”
“You really didn’t like my costume?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiles for the first time tonight, and exaggerates his own southern accent. “Bless your heart.”
You tilt your head, confused, “What’s that one?”
 “What, Tommy didn’t teach you that one?” You mumble a no and Joel hums. “S’a classic.”
“What’s it mean?”
“Well, I’d tell you to ask Tommy but you’re not allowed to hang out with him anymore,” Joel says. “Fuckin’ corrupted you. An’ it’s a shame, ‘cause I was startin’ to like you. God, he’s an asshole,” he complains, “And you are too, for that matter.”
You smile to yourself, then kiss Joel’s cheek before getting up to leave. Before you open the door, you turn to Joel, “Your costume sucks, by the way. Not even close to a pirate.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he replies. “Now get lost, you.”
When you leave, Joel adjusts his clothes. He clutches his tie in his hand, then leaves the bedroom, crashing into someone. It’s Tommy, wearing a shit-eating grin. Joel sighs, “What’d you teach her now?”
Tommy smirks. “Nothin’,” then slaps Joel on the ass, and Joel turns beet red. “Yee-haw, cowboy.”
Please please please reblog, send me asks, comment, let me know what you thought! Love your thoughts. It keeps me going and motivated to write for you all.
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sm-baby · 10 days
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Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?
More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3
I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕
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I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.
The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!
Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!
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You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!
More on them later at the end! :3
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Dream sequence theory
Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!
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Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.
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And then she wakes up, freaked out!!
Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!
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This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3
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also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!
Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!
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Whats up with Jax?
hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...
We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!
I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.
...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner
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If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,
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Then It escalates
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This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.
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Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.
I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!
I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.
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BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!
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tapakah0 · 5 months
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Okay! I don't know where you got the idea from and my best guess is that your brain is connected to mine via bluetooth but.
Me and Hoddie have a royal au and your animation made me think of it again.
Nothing crazy special, but...ah...I should probably give a little context yeah...hmm.
Uh, okay. There's a kingdom. whose king and queen have died, leaving behind several possible heirs who are not their direct children. Right now, the king's first general is sitting on the throne, because the power of the army is, you know, a pretty powerful argument in a fight for the throne, right? This creepy regent is Cass. And Cass came to power thanks to Hoddie, who's basically the king's heir too, but she's pretty distant and her chances of the throne are quite slim. This has made her a professional rat and back stabber. The whole palace is busy weaving intrigue and destroying each other in a competition for power. Contests in cunning and sneakiness. A maximally intellectually uncomfortable environment in general.
Until Hoddie finds the true heiress. The king's blood daughter, to whom the throne should rightfully belong.
Problem? The problem is that the heiress needs to be two years older to be old enough to rule. And Hoddie and Cass' goal is to make sure she lives to that age in an environment where every other person wants to frame or kill her.
That heiress is you, Tap. But we couldn't think of what you'd look like in this au ahaha.
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MHHMMM I SEE ONCE IN A WHILE BRAIN BLUETOOTH IS A GOOD THING you left me a window for my part and I grabbed this opportunity with sharp teeth Since there was no mention of my part, I have the audacity to add my own version. Did I understand correctly that my existence as an heiress was not known? It would be strange if the king was not looking for me, if I was the only heir (by blood), which means they were hoping for a new child, or already had plans for an indirect heir, or wanted to hide me. What other power is there, besides the king and the army, that holds the common people? Church. The king could have sent me to be trained as a priestess in order to gain support from them (either I was not considered worthy of receiving the throne in the future, which is why they preferred to hide me, or the king so badly needed their support that he was ready to sacrifice his only blood daughter) . Thus, from a young age, the beauty of a non-existent world somewhere beyond the heavens was drummed into my head and, in general, “God speaks all our actions.” I have an inconspicuous appearance, a position above a simple servant, but such priests are usually considered to be the daughters of high nobles, but not the king himself, which is why not everyone could know who I really was. Thus, they forgot about my existence ~ After the death of the king and all the heirs, the church quickly realized what to do next, and crushed me to itself, hiding me from the world until I reached the age of succession to the throne. (But children could take the throne under a regent. Could Hoodi become my regent as one of the older contenders for the throne?) So, back to the turmoil. Hoodie found me at church. Since childhood, my worldview could have changed greatly under the influence of the church, so, well, you will have to hammer a lot into my head, in addition to the throne’s education (You know... it's bit complicated to make a human sona not as a stupid little ball XDD... it literally can't get a shape at this point... maybe you will place a real bunny as the new king? It will be eating cabbage 24/7 and everyone will be happy)
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c0eu4 · 5 months
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LN4 | Tits
Request: inspi ration (he said tits in the blurry part)
Summary: Lando meets Y/n at a club and she asks him to sign her tits. A few days later, Lando is looking for her and they become friends. So she surprises him by coming to see him in Las Vegas.
Warning: Lando signing tits? Lando jerking off himself, needy Lando but no smut
A/N: I'm so so so so so sorry but I accidentally published the story when it wasn't finished and I had to delete and redo everything and I don't have the request!!
part one - part two - part three
MASTERLIST requests are opens
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His glass in his hand, he moves to the rhythm of the music. The lights of all colors blind him slightly and the music is so loud that he can't hear people talking around him. He takes the last sip of his drink, disappointed at having to move from the dancefloor to get a drink.
He warns Max (Fewtrell) and heads towards the bar in the center of the club. He doesn't take the time to sit down and walk next to a young woman, leaning against the counter.
He signals to the bartender and asks him for another drink. As he waited for his drink, the young lady next to him patted his shoulder, ''Uhm excuse me?''
He turns around, giving her a charming smile. He can't help but let his eyes slide down to her plunging neckline, waking up her chest. ''I can help you?''
The young lady blushed slightly, ''Uhm are you Lando Norris?'' He chuckled, ''Himself'' Her eyes widen softly, ''May I ask you an autograph?''
Lando can't help but smile even more. He doesn't know why, but he's not annoyed when she asks him that. Normally, he accepts like anyone else, even if it annoys him to be disturbed.
''Of course, do you want me to sign something in particular?'' She thinks, asks the bartender for a piece of paper, who tells her he doesn't have any. Then suddenly, an idea crossed her mind.
''Can you sign my tits?'' Lando's eyes widened, his cheeks getting slightly red. He chuckled as he took the pen the bartender offered him.
She pulls down her dress a little, revealing her breasts even more. ''Should I sign both?'' He can't take his eyes off of her breasts. He feels like he's a growing teenager again, filled with uncontrollable hormones.
''Yeah please.'' He uncaps the pen, puts a hand on her shoulder for support and tries to write but can't. He sighed, dreading his questions. ''Can I touch it? It would be easier.''
She chuckled, her now hugely revealed breasts moving slightly along with her little laugh. She still wonders if he isn't trying to touch them on purpose. But hey, after all, it's not every day you catch Lando Norris's eyes.
''If you want that much.'' He can't help but laugh, his warm breath tickling her bare collarbone. ''What's your name?'' He placed his hands on her right breast, ''Y/n.'' he tried to stretch the skin to allow the pen to work better. He signs it and adds 'for y/n, with love' He reproduces the gesture on her other breast, not hesitating to let his fingers slide a little lower.
His signature is perfect. As in the photos. ''Thank you'' He winks at her and she chuckled softly, probably nervously. He takes his drink and goes back to see Max who's now a bit away from the dancefloor and talking with some people.
Lando approached them and immediately, Max whispered something in his ear, ''Mate you're hard.'' Lando's head turns red as one of his hands slowly goes in front of his bulge, hiding it.
_ _ _
A few days later, Y/n is still in Lando's mind. He can't stop thinking of her. He even tried to search her on Instagram but it wasn't conclusive. He still sees her reddened cheeks, her nervous smile, her pink lips and her breasts.. oh my god. Just thinking about it makes his pants feel tight.
He readjust himself in the bed, his hand slipping under his boxers. He couldn't help it, she was so beautiful...and good. He imagines his cock between her breasts accelerating the movements of his hand. And it doesn't take long before he's cumming in his pants, imagining Y/n touching and licking him.
What a dirty boy he can be. Seriously, jerking off while thinking about a fan's tits.
He gets up after catching his breath and clean the mess he makes. His phone buzzed and he looked at Max's message.
''Mate you're not gonna believe me''
His text was accompanied with a picture.. of y/n, drinking a coffee, alone.
''Isn't that the girl you're looking for?''
''Where is she?''
''The cafe we usually went to'' ''You want me to do something?''
Lando doesn't answer, already putting on his shoes and jacket. He went outside, walking pretty fast to his car. His mother would kill him if she knew how speedy he drives.
He enters that café, his eyes wandering all the people in. His gaze freezes on her. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and her black turtleneck hid her collarbone, at the risk of disappointing Lando. Her laptop is open in front of her, next to two empty cafes.
He doesn't know what to do. Should he go see her? Or just observe her? He can also offer her a coffee and write his number on it, like in the movies.
He gathers his courage and orders two coffees. One for her and one for him. He decides to play it cool and sits across from her, putting the coffees on the table. She looks up from her computer and smiles nervously. ''Mister Norris. How can I help you?''
Her cheeks turn slightly red probably just like his. ''Maybe by giving me your number?'' He surprised himself with his overconfidence. She giggles, writes something in her notebook and gives the piece of paper to him.
Deep down, she knew that during that evening, something had happened between them. But she never thought he would look for her.
_ _ _
Since that day, they haven't stopped talking to each other.
Lando is an extrovert. Y/n is an introvert.
Lando likes to talk. Y/n likes to listen.
Lando doesn't know how to hide his feelings. Y/n doesn’t know how to show them.
They complete each other. They are made for each other. Their discussions are natural, Lando loves talking to her, even until late at night. And he knows she will always be there to listen to him. Meeting her was the best thing that could have happened to him.
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Y/n feels bad to have to lie to him. She walks back into the airport, readjusting her sunglasses. She passes through the secure gate without any hassle and barely has time to land to wait for her plane that Oscar called her and she picked up the phone.
''What did you tell him?''
''That I can't come.''
''I heard him crying in his driver's room.''
Oscar had agreed to help her to make a surprise for Lando and come see him in Las Vegas. But knowing that Lando's cried for her makes her heart breaks.
''Aw I feel so bad.''
He chuckles.
''Don't worry, he'll be so happy. I'm sure he'll kiss you.'' Oscar always thought that one day or another, they would end up together. Not that it bothers Y/n, but Lando is her best friend and she's afraid of ruining their relationship.
''Stop saying silly things.'' Oscar laughed again, but more loudly this time.
''Yeah yeah.. ahhh.. we do like we say, huh?''
''Yep, I'm going to enter the plan in a few minutes, be sure to be there when I land.''
''No I should let you at the airport.''
''Funny but you'll have to support the upset of Lando during the whole week.''
''You win on this point.''
''I let you Ozzy, see you in LA.''
''Have a nice plane.''
She thanks him and hangs up. She gets on the plane and sits in her seat. During the twelve hours of flights, Y/n finds something to occupy herself by watching a trilogy, sleeping and reading.
Once arrived, all that remains is the most complicated part. She has to collect her suitcase, leave the airport and join Oscar without being recognized. She readjusts her sunglasses and the black mask that hides the lower part of her face. With her hood on her head, she walks with her head down and hurries to collect her suitcase.
She leaves the airport in less than thirty minutes and quickly finds Oscar's car. She puts her suitcase in the trunk and gets in the passenger seat.
''Hey, nobody saw you?'' He asked her as she took off her sunglasses, mask and hood. ''Hi, I don't think so.'' He doesn't wait any longer to start the car and drive straight to the hotel.
She preferred to surprise him by waiting for him in his hotel room rather than at the track.
''I got a copy of his room card.'' He gives her the card as she quickly puts on her makeup.
It doesn't take long for them to arrive at the hotel. He helps her with her things and they hurry to the hotel room. Due to traffic jams on the road, they lost time and Lando should arrive more soon than expected.
She places her things in a corner of the room and sits down on the bed that he didn't even take the time to make.
''Tell me if he kissed you.'' Said Oscar before leaving her alone. He didn't let her have the time to respond and she just scrolled on her phone to pass the time.
She looks in the mirror, checking that her outfit is okay. She made the effort to take a twelve-hour plane with a rather uncomfortable dress, even if she was wearing one of Lando's sweaters over it.
She readjusts her hair and receives a message from Oscar telling her that he ran into Lando in the hallway.
She sits on the edge of bed and stares at the front door. She hears a noise, then a 'beep' meaning the door is open.
Lando walks into the room, not even noticing her, too busy looking at his phone. He places his bag on the ground and finally looks up from his phone.
His eyes open wide and his mouth is parted, not knowing what to say.
''Happy birthday, Lando.'' She smiles at him getting up from the bed.
Lando doesn't know what's going through his head, but he walks towards her, places his hands on her cheeks and presses his lips to hers.
Shit. Oscar was right. But it doesn't stop her from kissing him back, moving her lips along with his. She wraps her arms around his waist to pull him even closer to her.
''What the hell are you doing here!?'' He finally breaks the kiss, still in shock.
''Don't you still know that I'm a very good liar?'' He kissed her cheeks, his hand slowing on her hips.
''Fuck I missed you so much.'' He kisses her neck, already nibbing on it.
''Wow wow wow Lan', slowly.'' He stops it and his lips go back to hers.
''I hate you.'' She arranges the strands of hair that fall in front of his eyes.
''No you don't.'' He kissed her again.
''Be my girlfriend.''
''Did I have the choice?''
''No.'' He doesn't give her time to respond as he kisses her again, addicted to her lips.
Lando will no longer need to imagine his cock between her breasts. He's already planning to experience it tonight.
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s-4pphics · 5 months
Text
click! 1 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 
two. three. four.
A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall
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“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 
Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 
“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”
Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 
“I got that internship— “
All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 
“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 
Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 
Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 
“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 
“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “
“Maya.” 
“Hm?”
“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 
You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 
People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 
Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 
It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 
“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 
Oh God. “What?” 
She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “
The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  
“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 
Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 
“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 
“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 
“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”
When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 
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DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 
DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 
DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 
It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 
Why are people… so odd? 
The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 
Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!
All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 
Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 
They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 
You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 
ELLIE WILLIAMS. 
Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 
temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 
… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.
At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 
She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 
But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 
You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.
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“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 
Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 
Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 
A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 
“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 
You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “
“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 
“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 
Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 
“You’re so fucking extra— “
DING!
Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 
“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 
Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  
“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 
You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 
“The wettest. Go.” 
You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 
You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 
“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 
“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 
Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 
“Alright.” 
More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 
“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 
“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 
More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 
“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 
She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 
“What’d I say!” 
“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Oh yeah what.” 
“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 
A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 
Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 
Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 
… Cute. 
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You’re going to fail statistics over a random.
Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 
She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 
Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 
Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 
The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 
Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 
“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 
“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 
She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 
You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 
Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 
“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 
A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 
She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 
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“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 
Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 
“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 
Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 
“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 
The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 
“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 
“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 
“Sike.” 
You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 
“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “
You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”
“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “
Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 
Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 
“Right.” 
“I do, what the he— “
“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 
“Hm?” 
“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “
Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 
“Wait— “
“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 
Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 
Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 
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Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 
When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 
You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 
At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 
“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 
Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 
“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 
She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 
Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 
“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 
“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 
She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 
“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 
“Damn… My fault.” 
“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 
“Go out! Find somebody!” 
You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “
“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 
You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.
“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 
Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 
“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 
“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “
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Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 
You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 
It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 
Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 
Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 
Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 
You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 
Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 
When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 
Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 
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The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 
A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—
“I’m here,” She states plainly. 
“… Why?” You croak.
Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 
“To move in.” 
“… Why?”
Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 
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Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 
“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 
“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “
“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 
Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 
She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?
Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 
“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 
Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”
Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 
What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...
For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 
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tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane
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Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee
I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.
~
When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.
Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.
It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.
Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.
But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.
Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.
And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.
Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.
He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."
You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."
That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.
Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.
Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."
Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.
But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.
You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."
"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."
But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"
Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.
Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.
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exhaslo · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 20- Roommate!Miguel x Reader
*Requested by Reader ;) *
        It was your third year of college and you had decided to get one of the dorm houses right next to the college. Finally! No more small apartment in a large dorm hall; no more random fire alarms because someone didn't know how long to cook popcorn; no more being locked out of your dorm room because you were in a shared bathroom; and finally, no more loud and obnoxious roommates. Having this house meant that you picked your roommate. You had your freedom.
        What better than a roommate who is going to have their heads stuck in the books or at the library? You interviewed so many people, but only one caught your attention as the perfect roommate. 
Miguel O'Hara
         The man was not only eye candy, but one of the smartest students on campus. Correction, he was the smartest student. You were surprised when he was in the hunt for a roommate. The two of you got along and you decided to go with him. All you ever heard about him was either girls wanting to fuck him, or that he was a hardass who kept his head in the books. A perfect roommate.
         Things were going smoothly for the first few months. You barely saw him due to your conflicting schedules, but he kept his part of the house clean. There was never any loud noise from his room, nor was there any reason to complain. The only little issue you were having was that he was too fucking sexy.
        Lord did the impure thoughts start when you saw him exit the shower one day. You swore drool was coming out of your mouth as you stared at him. You would have never thought that Miguel was so fit. No wonder why all the girls on campus wanted to date him. The man had a body of a god!
"Perhaps I should charge a fee," Miguel said, waking you from your trance. Your face was flustered,
"Sorry! I was just surprised!" You admitted, hiding your embarrassment. 
"Surprised it took you long enough to know why I like to hide here instead of the library?" You could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face, "Midterms are coming up. Let me know if you need help...studying."
        Oh man, you were embarrassed. Since then, Miguel had gotten a little more snarky with you. In a playful manner. Honestly, it felt like he was pulling st your heart strings. The man was smart, hot and a menace to your thoughts. You were ashamed to say that you had thought about your roommate a lot at night as you played with yourself.
        You weren't the only one. Miguel was pumping his dick in his hand every night to the thought of you under him. You were pretty dangerous to be around. Walking around in your underwear and a shirt; laying on the couch; hell, Miguel was even aroused by you cooking dinner. In his eyes, you were already his. He just hadn't sealed the deal yet.
"Argh, I hate men!" You cried out, planting your face onto the couch. Miguel was sitting on the side chair,
"Including me?" He asked, not straying away from his essay. You huffed, face him,
"No..."
"Good, now who do I have to beat up for annoying my precious roommate?"
"Hahaaa, just one of my classmates. We were doing a project and he had the gall to tell me I had no idea what I'm doing. I fucking major in the subject!"
       As you were venting, Miguel was staring at you. He found it cute how red your cheeks got when you were angry. How tight your clothes were against your body. Miguel wanted to see you strip. To get lazy and comfy. It was something only for his eyes to see. He moved his laptop over his bulge, wanting to hide the fact that he was getting turned on from just staring at you.
"And then he had the absolute nerve after all that to ask me out! Like, why would I want to date a rude snob like him?! After I said hell no, he called me a bitch and went to shit talk me to his friends!" You whimpered, tears threatening to spill. 
        Miguel immediately went to your aid. He brought you a box of tissues, sitting beside you now. You rested your head against his shoulder, trying your best to not cry.
"I can beat him up for you, amor. (love). You can do so much better."
"Haha, thanks Miguel."
---------------
          After that, you went back to your hard studies since Finals were around the corner. That boy who had bothered you prior stopped bothering you completely. In fact, he avoided you. It was strange, but you were happy about it. All you needed was to pass your classes. Miguel helped you study for midterms, perhaps he was willing to help you again for finals?
        You were sitting in your shared living room, waiting for Miguel's class to get out. You were getting frustrated from trying to figure out stuff from another class. Glancing at the time, you inhaled deeply. There was still plenty of time before Miguel came home, you could use a little destress. Laying against the couch, you spread your legs and began to rub your clit was massaging you breast.
"Mhm, Miguel," You closed your eyes, imaging that it was Miguel toying with your body.
        Raising your hips, you started to feverishly rub your clit. Whines coming out as you desperately wanted Miguel to touch you. You lowered your fingers to your aching hole, doing your best to finger yourself.
"Miguel!" You whined.
"Fuck," Miguel groaned as he walked through the door. You gasped loudly, fixing yourself, 
"M-Miguel!? Y-Your c-class-?!" You panicked. Miguel hurried to your side,
"Don't you fucking stop now." He groaned, his hands making haste into your shorts, "Fuck, hearing your moans when I walk in. Cómo puedo contenerme? (How can I hold myself back?)"
       You gasped as Miguel had you pinned to the couch. His hands quickly replaced yours and he entered two digits into your wet cunt. You moaned, arching your back into the couch as he pumped his fingers roughly. Your pussy clentching down against his hand whike your hips moved against his palm. His fingers were so thick, bigger than some of your toys. He was already stretching you out.
"Hah, ah, M-Miguel..." You whimpered a moan as he curled his fingers. Miguel licked his lips,
"Qué hermoso. Tu cuerpo se está desmoronando por mi culpa. (How beautiful. Your body just falling apart because of me.)" You trembled as you reached your first orgasm, "What a naughty roommate. Teasing me so much."
        You panted heavily, never experience an orgasm like that before. You followed Miguel's gaze, watching him undo his pants as he licked his fingers. His pupils almost looked blown once he had a taste of you. It made you wetter. Finally, all of those wet dreams you've had of fucking your roommate was about to come true. Miguel cussed lowly as his belt got in the way.
"I never seen you this stressed," You teased, helping him undo his pants, "How long have you been wanting this?"
"Why do you think I became your roommate?" Miguel watched your reaction towards his large dick, "You?"
"Before midterms,"
        You stroked his dick with both hands. His low rumbling groans were turning you on more. You brought your lips to his tip, licking the precum that had started to drip. You winced at the salty taste but continued to suck him. Miguel's hand rested on your head as you bobbed your head against him. It was difficult and you could not take him fully, but Miguel seemed to enjoy it. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes as Miguel forced your head lower.
        Muffling against his dick, Miguel stopped, allowing you to breathe. You crawled over his lap, positioning his dick over your soaked hole. Miguel held your hips and placed you on your back before entering. The two of you moaned in unison. Miguel held your legs up as he stretched you out. Miguel was destroying your pussy and he hadn't even moved yet. You gripped the couch's blanket, raising your hips as he kept pushing himself inside.
"Looks like you need help with your finals," Miguel groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick as he finally fit his whole length, "Let me start by teaching this naughty pussy a lesson."
"Mhm, p-please," You begged. Miguel pulled back then slapped his length into you with force, "Ah~!" You cried out.
"Qué compañera de cuarto más cachonda. ¿A punto de romperse después de un solo empujón de mi polla? Tu coño fue hecho solo para mí. Mira lo mojada que estás, sólo para mí. (What a slutty roommate. About to break after just one thrust of my dick? Your pussy was made just for me. Look at how wet you are, just for me.)"
"M-Miguel!" 
        You gasped for air as he fucked your brains out. Each thrust was bringing your orgasm closer and closer. Miguel grabbed your breasts, playing with them as he sucked on your collarbone. His dick pounding you relentlessly. He had his body pinned against you like an animal in heat, refusing to let you go. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear as you reached another orgasm. Miguel shivered in delight and decided to reward you. He slammed his cock a few more times, filling your womb with his cum.
"Looks like you're going to need a lot more lessons, cariño (sweetheart). But don't worry, I won't charge my dear roommate."
"Y-You better not." You huffed. Miguel smirked as he gave you another slap of his dick, "W-Wait~ Mhm, d-don't...d-do that." Your whines turned into moans as Miguel kept abusing your poor cunt.
"After waiting this long, you really don't think I'm not going to fuck you dumb? Gotta make sure I keep tutoring you."
"Hah, hah, y-yes," You replied, throwing your head back in pleasure.
        You did not care how many times you needed to ask Miguel for help. You knew that he would tutor you seriously. It was your payment that you really looked forward too. Anytime either of you were stressed, you two had some of the best sex. When it was time to renew your lease for the house, both you and Miguel did not hesitate to agree. Miguel was the perfect roommate. Perfect boyfriend. You were not letting go of him, and neither was he of you.
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celandeline · 3 months
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Not Your Boyfriend, Baby
Farleigh X Reader, SMUT - tw for cheating, reader both cheats and is cheated on
part two
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Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules. 
Always stand to his right, so that he can hand you whatever he’s holding without having to think about it. Let him pull you into his lap whenever he wants, even if you’d really rather just sit next to him - always sit next to him. Laugh at the jokes he makes, even if they aren’t funny. Help him with his coursework when he asks, pretend that you need help with things that you know he’s good at so he doesn’t feel stupid. Pretend that he can make you cum. Pretend you don’t know he’s cheating on you.
Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules - but the perks are worth it. 
The necklace he got you for your birthday costs more than your first car, and if you ever sell it, will easily cover rent for at least a year. Designer clothes have a habit of appearing in your dorm room unannounced, always in your size - just because Felix likes when you look good next to him. No clubs are too exclusive to get into, there’s always a booth in the back of the pub reserved for you, people bend over backwards just for the chance of being in Felix’s vicinity - so naturally they’ll do anything for you. 
You’re using him as much as he’s using you - it’s mutually beneficial. You get to live within his innermost circle, he gets to have someone to bring home to his parents so they don’t start looking into arranged marriages after graduation. You have no intentions of actually marrying him, god no - you’ve heard him talk about how many kids he wants, there’s no way in hell you’re pushing out six - but you’ll take what you can get. Felix is a comfortable rung on the social ladder you’re trying to climb. 
“Right, love?” 
Felix’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and back into reality - the warm lighting of the pub casts everyone around your table in a warm golden glow. You’re pressed against Felix’s right side - always his right side - his arm perched on the back of the booth around your shoulders, casually possessive. It’s a little funny how possessive he is, considering how often he cheats on you. On his other side, Annabel nurses a pint, her overlined eyes locked on Felix, utterly enraptured. 
Across the table, India looks at him with the same hunger, even though her head rests on Farleigh’s shoulder. Farleigh looks how you feel - utterly bored, his eyes wandering the room as he idly smokes a cigarette. He’s always been prettier than Felix. More interesting too. If you weren’t trying to climb the social ladder high enough to marry rich and not have to work a day in your life, he’d be who you’re pressed against instead of Felix. There’s something about him that’s always given you the sense that he sees right through you, but it’s exciting. You know he knows why you’re here next to Felix, with a diamond he bought you around your neck. But Felix has no idea - he thinks you’re in love with him. 
It’s laughable, how in his own head he is. 
Still, you feed into the delusion, that practiced sugary-sweet smile playing at your lips as you look up at him. “Mhm.” You hum, picking up your pint and sipping at it. 
Felix grins wide, and turns back to Annabel. “See?”
Annabel rolls her eyes, leaning around Felix to pin a look at you. “You weren’t even paying attention.”
The animosity that every other girl within a fifty mile radius directs at you is the one drawback of being Felix’s main piece. Your smile turns a little sharper. “Yeah.” You admit easily, setting your pint back down. “But I know Felix enough to know that he was probably right.”
Across the table, Farleigh snorts. 
Your eyes slide over to him, and he meets your glance. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head, a dry smile playing at his lips - a silent, really?
You tilt your head in the same direction, mocking - yes, really.
Felix turns back to Annabel. “I’m always right, Anna - best get used to it.”
She rolls her eyes again, but this time it’s playful - flirty, even. You can already see how the rest of tonight is going to play out - Felix will make some excuse about drinking too much or not feeling well or whatever else his idiotic brain can come up with, and disappear back to his dorm room to fuck her. Tomorrow, of course, you’ll act like you’re none the wiser. In two weeks time, when the guilt starts to get at him, a new pair of heels or a Dior skirt will find its way into your closet. 
Simply the way of things. 
Pulling away from Felix’s hold, you make to get up. He glances at you, concerned, but you only smile, and kiss him on the cheek so that you can slide out of the booth. “Gotta use the loo.”
You brush your hands down your skirt as you stand up, and start towards the back of the pub, where the bathrooms are, tossing a look over your shoulder back at the table. You catch Farleigh’s eye, and hold it for a moment. His lips curl upward around his cigarette. With Felix likely going home with Annabel, your schedule for the night just opened up…
Maybe tonight’s the night you do something - someone - just for yourself. Set your plans for the future aside for once, and just have fun. After all, you’re confident Felix will be none the wiser - you know exactly what not to do after watching him fumble around with any and every other girl that’s caught his eye. 
You disappear into the bathroom, Farleigh’s gaze still on you. 
The noise from the pub is quieter here, just a dull hum seeping in through the walls. You lock the door behind you, and inspect yourself in the mirror. You smudge the dark eyeshadow around your eyes a little more, and fluff up your hair so that it doesn’t sit so lifelessly against your head. Your sex appeal back in place, you splash some water on your hands and pat them against your skirt before you leave, stepping back out into the pub. 
As expected, Farleigh is waiting for you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, finishing off his cigarette. A quick glance back at the table lets you know that you were right - Annabel and Felix are gone. India’s moved onto Jack now, laughing a little too loud at something he says. 
“Felix said he wasn’t feeling well, all of a sudden.” Farleigh drawls, bringing your attention back to him. “Annabel’s walking him home.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice that you appreciate - he knows just as well as you do what they’re off to do.
“Shame.” You say, not bothering to try and sound actually sad at all. It wouldn’t fool Farleigh anyway. “Got tired of India?” You snatch the last of his cigarette from his fingers, finishing it off in one drag and dropping the butt to the floor, stamping it out with my boot. 
Farleigh watches you, his eyes half-lidded. “Is there such a thing as not being tired of India?”
“She’s not all bad.” You say. 
He tilts his head, that wry smile coming back to his face. “She’s not trying to fuck you.”
You can’t help but grin at that. “Touche.” You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of India’s flirting - but if Farleigh’s boredom is anything to judge by, she must not be very good at it. 
Silence falls between us, and you let yourself look at him, eyes tracing down the lines of his neck until you reach the hollow at the base, and then back up to his lips.
“So.” Farleigh says. 
You meet his eyes again. “So.”
He grins, foxlike and charming. “You wanna get out of here?”
The walk back to campus is short, but it feels longer with how much you talk about with Farleigh - school and America and family and money and Felix and a million other, less important, things. It’s the most intellectually stimulating conversation you’ve had in a long time, and the most you’ve genuinely laughed in a while too. It’s everything you’ve been missing with Felix - and it makes the war between your want for fortune and fame in the future and your want for genuine connection rage all the more. 
It comes to an end all too quickly for your liking, as you reach the steps to your dorm. 
You slow to a stop, and Farleigh stops as well, looking down at you, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Does it ever bother you?” He asks.
“What?” You reply. 
“That he cheats on you.” Farleigh clarifies. 
It’s a complicated question to answer, so instead you turn it around on him instead. “Does it ever bother you that he’s fucked India?”
Farleigh rolls his eyes. “That’s-”
“He does it to literally everyone.” You press on. “I stopped caring a while ago.”
Something contemplative washes over his face, and he just looks at you for a moment, eyes searching yours for something. His next question is quieter. “Who would you pick, if you weren’t stuck with him?”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not stuck with him.”
Farleigh looks at you, obviously amused. “I can see you trying not to roll your eyes every time he opens his mouth.”
You shrug. “The pros outweigh the cons.”
“So cynical.” He taunts, stepping closer. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious who I would pick if I wasn’t with Felix.” You say, letting him back you up the steps until your back is against the door. You look up at him, and meet his eyes. 
He grins. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”
“It’s you.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it would be anyone else-”
He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, a moan leaving him as you deepen the kiss without waiting, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and vodka and it’s made all the more delicious by the little noises that keep working up his throat, elicited when you grab him by the belt and pull him closer so that you’re chest to chest. He groans when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip and pull away, tugging him with you by the mouth. When you release him, he still follows after you anyway, chasing you for more. 
Fingers still dancing on his belt, you smile. “Come up to my dorm with me?”
“Yes, fuck, please.” He already sounds debauched, and it sends a spike of heat straight down to your core. Felix would never deign himself to beg. 
You push open the door to the dorm building, and start up the stairs, Farleigh trailing only a half step behind you. You fumble with your keys once you reach the door to your room, and Farleigh latches onto the back of your neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin that send a shiver up your spine.
Once you get the door open, you drag him inside and kick it back shut, locking it behind you. 
Farleigh’s back on you in an instant, mouthing under your jaw. You wind a hand into his curls, pulling his head back from your neck. “Don’t leave any marks or Felix-”
He rolls his eyes, and cuts you off. “Duh.”
Without any more preamble he dives back into your neck, kissing along the length of it until he makes his way back up to your lips. You meet him in a kiss greedily, pushing off the door behind you and walking him back towards your bed. He hits the bedframe and breaks the kiss to sit on the edge. With a grin, you’re climbing into his lap and gently pushing him down until his backs flat against the mattress. 
He’s so pretty like this - curls splayed out across your duvet cover, hands gripping onto your hips like you’ll float away if he lets go. You run a hand under his shirt, rucking it up so that you can see the way his stomach flexes when you touch him. Slowly, you dip your head down to lick a trail up his abdomen, never breaking eye contact. 
He tips his head back with a shaky groan. “Oh, fuck.”
You grin, shifting forward so that you can nose under his jaw, lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. “What about you? Will India get mad if I-”
“Don’t fucking care, I want you to do it anyway.” He says, a little breathless. He’s so responsive - every little groan and whine shoots heat straight to your core. If sex with Felix was like this, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him. 
You sink your teeth into his neck just below his ear and he keens, his hips knocking up into yours. His fingers dig into your hips, bunching the fabric of your skirt into his fists like he’s holding on for dear life. You take the opportunity to start the slow roll of your hips as you work a chain of hickeys across his neck, scattering them artfully around his collarbone. 
Deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your spine until you get the message and pull it off yourself, flinging it somewhere in your room. Farleigh wiggles out of his own shirt underneath you, pushing the offending garment off the edge of the bed. Freed of your shirt, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra as well, tossing it in the same direction. 
Farleigh’s eyes fall to your tits immediately, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate. “I see why Felix keeps you around-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say with a smile. Even when you have him in your bed, he’s the same old Farleigh. It’s a breath of fresh air after having to pretend you like when Felix calls himself ‘daddy’. 
Your skirt is next, and then the tights you’d had on underneath it as Farleigh works on his trousers, kicking them off the end of the bed. Only your underwear left, you resume grinding against him, watching as his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he uses his grip on your hips to work you over him harder. 
“How do you want me?” You ask, leaning down to press more kisses along the length of his neck. 
You expect him to respond - to tell you to turn over on all fours or ride him reverse cowgirl - but he only sighs in the back of his throat. “Whatever you like, baby.” 
You press your lips to his in another greedy kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the moans that slip past his lips. He’s not making it easy to think about going back to Felix after this. Felix, who calls himself ‘daddy’ and manhandles you around however he likes and hasn’t made you cum a single time. You can feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your underwear from how malleable Farleigh is underneath you - how he looks at you like he’d gladly do anything you ask him to. 
You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and shuck them down his legs. Your own underwear are next, and then you’re grinding on him again, spreading your wetness up and down his length. 
Farleigh’s grip tightens, and he tips his head back again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he moans. “Mm.” He picks his head back up enough so that he can look at you. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go down on you but - mm - I don’t think you need it- oh fuck!”
Rising up on your knees, you line him up and slide down him in one drop of your hips, lodging him inside of you. He’s longer than Felix is, but skinnier too so the stretch doesn’t sting as much. God, it’s like he was made for you, with how easily he reaches right where you need him to without even trying. You start to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage and tossing your head back, losing yourself in the feeling. 
Farleigh whines, a high pitched breathy thing that sounds like it’s been forced out of him as you start to move. Gently, you pry his hands away from your hips and pin them down over his head, just because he lets you do it. It’s a rush - that he’ll let you do whatever you want and take it happily - and it goes to your head. He strains against your grip but you don’t let up, working yourself up and down his cock just to watch his eyes roll up into his head. 
“What- ahh, what are you doing?” Farleigh chokes out, straining against your grip again. 
“Whatever I want.” You croon, whispering against his lips. 
He snags you in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth hungrily as he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting so that his hips meet yours on every downstroke. A sharp gasp forces its way out of your throat as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten, and you can’t help but smile at him. It’s almost a novelty, the way he works with you instead of against you like Felix often does. 
He grins back up at you, and tilts his chin upward to kiss you again. Breathy, he says, “Felix is an idiot.”
You choke on a moan as a particularly hard thrust jolts through you. “Why’s that?”
“He doesn’t know what he has.” Farleigh says. “I’ve fucked India and - fuck - Annabel and they’ve got nothing on you.”
You laugh and moan at the same time. “You don’t have to - mm - be nice just so I’ll let you cum in me.”
“I can be nice.” He breathes. 
You ghost your lips over his neck. “You’re never nice.”
“I can be nice.” He insists, turning his head so that you can litter kisses along the length of his neck. You trail upwards until you reach the lobe of his ear, biting gently at the skin. “To you.”
“Careful.” You say. “Better stop now or I might think you’re in love with me or something-”
Farleigh tenses up beneath you, as a long groan escapes from his lips as he throws his head back. He thrusts three more times before he stills, slumping back down to the mattress, panting hard. His eyes flutter open, blown wide as he looks up at you. 
You can feel a smirk playing on your lips. “Did you just cum?”
He has the decency to look a little ashamed. “Maybe.”
You laugh, and kiss him. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”
“I’m good.” He insists, working his wrists free of your hold. “I can still- here, just-”
He pulls you to his chest and rolls on the mattress so that you’re underneath him now, and resumes fucking into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. The change in position makes the feeling all the more potent, and a moan slips out from your lips. 
Winding your arms around his shoulders, you rake your nails up his back, and feel him shiver against you. “Farleigh…”
“Don’t fucking do that.” He laughs. “I’ll cum again.”
You toss your head back against the pillow as he speeds up his thrusts, obviously trying to get you to cum before he’s too spent to keep going. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the feeling of him against you, the tickle of his curls against your neck, the breathy moans that slip from his lips into your ear, the feeling of his teeth against your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin-
“Farleigh-” You start, only to cut yourself off as the coil finally snaps and pleasure shoots through you. “Oh fuck-”
He groans, and shoves his face deeper into your neck as his thrusts slow to a stop. He slumps again, flopping on top of you with a long sigh.
When you come back to your senses, you tug on his hair until he grumbles. “You are such a dick.” You say. “I said no marks.”
“Sorry.” He mumbles into your skin. 
“No you’re fucking not.” You retort. 
He lifts his head out of your neck, that foxlike grin on his face again. “No I’m not.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask. 
He pulls out, and flops back down on the bed next to you, nosing back into the crook of your neck as he slings an arm over your chest. “Makeup. Wear your hair down.” He shrugs. “It’s Felix - he’ll probably think he did it.”
You rest your chin on the top of his head, the aftershocks of pleasure running through you. “‘M never having sex with you again.”
Farleigh snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
You smile into his hair, because he’s right. Of course he’s right. There’s no way in hell this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence. 
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