#they have been going on for more than twenty years

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #may tries to write #oh lord #im not even going to tell you how long i spent drafting this bad boy #please join me in the brainrot please

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob x you #bob x reader

[nanivinsmoke]

Picture Perfect

just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .

toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader

we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?

summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.

warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…

“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.

“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.

you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.

you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.

the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.

as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.

“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.

sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.

he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.

“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.

his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.

your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu’s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.

“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.

your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.

you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.

“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.

shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.

you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.

while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.

“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.

you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.

the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.

and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.

“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.

a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.

you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.

you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.

shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it some again”

“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”

you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.

“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.

“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.

you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.

“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”

and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.

#toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk toji #dilf toji x y/n #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n #shiu kong x y/n #shiu kong jjk #shiu kong x reader smut #shiu smut #kong shiu #shiu x reader #shiu x toji x reader #shiu and toji smut #jjk shiu #shiu kong #jujutsu kaisen toji #reader x jjk #jjk smut #nanivinsmoke

[anthurak]

So I’ve been thinking more about one of the more subtle but striking questions brought up by Ruby’s tree vision:

Namely; to where or rather to who were Raven and Summer portaling to? After all, it’s been established that Raven’s semblance, Kindred Link, allows her to create portals specifically to people she has established a certain bond and connection with.

And this is particularly interesting, because of the people we thus far know have Raven’s ‘Link’, only ONE was otherwise not present in the flashback; Qrow.

And wouldn’t you know it; Qrow also happens to be one of the people we can definitively say DOESN’T know what happened to Summer, going off his talk with Ruby in Volume 7 where he mentions having no idea where Summer went or what she was doing on her mysterious last mission.

Now, as I’m sure some people will bring up, it IS possible that Qrow was actually present and is simply keeping quiet about it to Ruby. However, personally I seriously doubt that. As I simply don’t see the writers cheapening such a personal and important scene between Ruby and Qrow by later revealing that Qrow was actually outright lying to Ruby at the time.

So that seemingly leaves us with seemingly only one other option: That Summer and Raven portaled to someone else.

As to who that someone might be? Well personally, I think it would have to be someone we likely haven’t met yet. I know some people have suggested it could have been Ozpin, but frankly I don’t buy that one bit. Whatever happened to Summer is clearly meant to have MASSIVE implications, impact and general status-quo shattering revelations, all things it would make much more sense that Oz has NO idea to. Not to mention it’s kind of hard to imagine Raven forming a link, clearly a very close connection, with someone she seems to have always distrusted like Ozpin. Meaning that we’re left with a character that we simply haven’t be introduced to yet.

However, after giving it some more thought, I think there may be a THIRD option:

Raven and Summer DIDN’T actually portal to a person.

Remember just how we learned the mechanics of Raven’s semblance?

It was via Yang explaining it, via information she was told by TAI.

Here’s the thing though; Tai certainly knew how Raven’s semblance worked back when they were a team with Summer and Qrow. But it’s also been a LONG time since then. And wouldn’t you know it, these last couple volumes have ALSO introduced us to the concept of SEMBLANCE EVOLUTION.

So what if in the near-twenty-odd years since leaving her team, Raven’s semblance ALSO ‘evolved’? To the point where she can form her ‘Links’ with more than JUST people?

Perhaps now Raven can form a link with objects that have particular significance to her? Or, and this one I find the most compelling, LOCATIONS that are particularly important to her?

It’s funny that we’ve never actually known for sure where or to who Raven has been portalling to all the times we’ve seen her. Sure, in hindsight I think we’ve all been assuming it was Vernal in Volumes 2, 3, and 4, and to Taiyang at the end of Volume 5. But the funny thing is, we DON’T actually hear the characteristic sound of Raven’s portal opening in the V5 post-credits scene with Tai, only the flapping of wings. Implying that Raven may not have actually portalled to Tai directly…

Meaning that throughout the show, perhaps Raven wasn’t actually portalling to Vernal, but rather to the camp, the home which now has great significance and meaning to her. And at the end of Volume 5, she portalled not to Tai, but rather to the home she once had on Patch. Or, for the REAL spicy alternative, to Summer’s grave.

So what if at the start of their world-most-homoerotic-suicide-mission together, Raven and Summer portalled not to a person, but rather to a LOCATION that Raven was able to set up a link to?

(shoutout to @mikey-polo420 for the ask that got me thinking about this :D)

#rwby #rwby theory #rwby analysis #Raven Branwen #Summer Rose #rwby semblances #semblance evolution

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?” 

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

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[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy. 

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard. 

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong. 

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go? 

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one. 

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday. 

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors. 

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad. 

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry? 

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different? 

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all. 

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse. 

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.” 

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was  hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears. 

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble. 

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan. 

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

[bangficsx]

DON'T GO TO STRANGERS

CHAPTER 1

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Genre: slow burn, romance, angst, smut, college setting, corrupt families, revenge, bodyguard, lots of parties, reckless hookups, denial, etc

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Warnings : consensual protected sex, slight mention of masturbation

As the flight takes off, Jungkook's arm shakes matching with the turbulence of the airplane. He closes his fists tightly trying to calm himself and takes a deep breath.

It's not the turbulence that causes his anxiety, it's fuelled by the uncertainty of the mission he is leaving his country for.

He has protected far more dangerous things than you, and been rewarded greatly yet he feels as if nothing he does will ever suffice to efface the doubts of those who don't believe in him.

He knows he's capable but this time what he's supposed to protect is a living, breathing person with her own will and ability to move around. It's you. He's being sent to Harwell to protect you.

Sitting on the seat behind yours, it's difficult for him to catch a glimpse of you. The sitting arrangement had been meddled with deliberately to have you in close proximity to him.

He hears you talk after the take-off with the guy that sits beside you. If he tries to focus he can hear the conversation that you two have going on.

You talk about your bachelor's subjects then why you have chosen to do a master's, and what your plans are for after you get the degree. Soon the conversation segues into things like dating and exes and quickly becomes NSFW.

"Morning sex or night sex?" You ask him and he titters before answering. Says it's different on different days and situations.

A blonde guy sits beside Jungkook on the aisle seat who leans over to the front, and says, "Hoseok look at this bro" he shows him something on his phone and the guy beside you laughs.

"Crazy humour" He settles back in his place.

Jungkook side glances at him before looking away. He's not shy and wants to stay away from becoming too attached to people because he's not here for the college experience but on a mission.

"Read this" Jimin turns the phone towards Jungkook's face. It's some webtoon panel that has a scene so freaking funny Jungkook wants to roll on the floor laughing. He somehow manages to just let out a little giggle.

"You also going to Harwell for uni?" Jimin asks keeping his phone face down on his thigh. Feels an urge to befriend this guy who sits beside him. He can't fathom why the cool looking guy is keeping quiet.

"Yeah, master's." Jungkook answers. He makes sure to not tell him too much about himself.

"Me too" Jimin smiles. "Psychology," he adds.

"Sociology," Jungkook replies. Bites his tongue, to punish himself for talking again when he didn't even ask.

"Where did you get your bachelor's from?" Jimin asks. Jungkook utters a curse in his mind, wanting to yet not wanting to continue the conversation.

"Yonsei," he answers. Knows the guy's gonna be like oh you must be so smart but he hates how he didn't really deserve it, and went there as a result of nepotism and power misuse.

They talk about some other things before becoming silent.

Jungkook can still hear you talk with Hoseok. His assumptions start to break down into little pieces slowly and slowly. With each line that he hears, another fact about you reveals itself to him, he feels how wrong he was.

Thinks he'd underestimated you. You weren't all that naive and reserved. He could tell that much with the way you were openly flirting and talking about anything and everything with Hoseok.

Your father had portrayed you as an innocent delicate doll-like creature in his descriptions. Jungkook had ignored the fact that fathers barely come to terms with their daughters growing up.

If your father could control it all he would still like to have you as a five-year-old throwing pretend tea parties in your princess-themed bedroom.

But you aren't five anymore, you're twenty years and five months. You graduated college with honours and finally got the ticket out of your father's house after an ugly fight with him.

Two years of your adulthood, you spent still bound by your father's rules. Now you were out, ready to live your life on your own terms.

You want what your friends had, which you had to struggle to get, freedom, and independence. You want to enjoy your youth that only lasts an hour.

Now it dawns upon Jungkook all at once, if you've been able to do things hidden from your father, what you would do now that you are going away?

You already have the boy by your side being all giddy and needy for you.

He realises his hands are full. It's gonna be almost impossible to keep an eye on you at all times.

You and Hoseok watch a movie together. None of you say it out loud, but it's like a date in very peculiar surroundings. You had just met him in the waiting area. Found that you two had adjacent seats. And he took it from there, his friendly demeanour soon blended with his attraction for you. You are everything he likes in his women.

Your excitement for a new beginning withers away when you grow tired of the slow-moving time, your body feels cramped, butt numb from sitting for so long. Even after a trip to the restroom, it doesn't go away.

Hoseok drifts off to sleep as you choose to read a book after the movie ends. Your father had insisted on getting you a business class seat but you insisted on getting the economy class experience like other students who were headed to the same destination as you.

It is a government-funded programme. Your parents could easily pay for the expenses but you don't want to take anything anymore from them.

Jungkook had gotten his place again through corrupt practices just like his undergraduate programme. Only going there to protect you. He did get to choose a subject of his liking. Concluded that if he were doing a degree, he'd rather study something he likes and actually learn a little.

He stands and politely wakes Jimin up to go to the bathroom. As he passes by, your gaze falls upon him.

You wish for a second, he'd been the one to sit beside you. The tattoo sleeve and the piercings only amplify how perfect he is.

You watch as he walks away, observing his broad shoulders, his veiny hands, his shiny nose, his starry eyes, and his silky hair. He stands out.

Then your gaze falls back upon the guy who sits beside you. He's perfect in his own way. He made you laugh like you hadn't in years. Talking with him was better than many other dates you have had.

You do happen to like him but he doesn't ignite that burning desire in you which that other guy had just threatened to.

You don't notice but when he comes back to his seat. He glances at you too. Tries to stop his brain from recalling your face again and again.

He noticed too much than he intended to just in that one glance towards you. Your dark orbs, long hair, slender neck and perfectly manicured hands that flipped through the pages of the book you are reading.

The long-haul flight finally comes to a stop as you reach the land where you are going to live for a while and make memories, learn from mistakes and gather life-changing experiences.

As you walk out following behind Hoseok, a little fluffy bunny face charm that was tied to the strap of your backpack, falls off. You walk away ignorant of it.

Jungkook picks it up and reads the letters written on it in handwriting that seems to belong to a child — ROMI.

"Romi" He calls after you pretending to assume that it is your name.

You don't hear him at first but when he calls again, you're standing numb at your spot, confused and startled at who is saying that name. It isn't a common name at all.

It's the name that your little sister gave to her bunny charm.

Jungkook walks up to you and says, "This fell" he hands it to you.

"Oh, how did this..." You are confused wondering how it was there. Then assume your sister must've tied it to your backpack while playing.

"It's not my name. This bunny is called Romi," you tell him. His lips curl up into a small smile.

You notice that the queue ahead of you has already cleared up and quickly run ahead.

A bus takes you to the campus where you are welcomed and shown around a little.

A university representative counts all the students who have arrived and checks the details on your documents with the ones that all of you have provided with your application.

All the students receive their student IDs and a booklet containing necessary details about classes and the campus.

Soon after all the boring things end, you finally go to the apartment that your father had arranged for you.

After a nice shower, being jet-lagged you decide to take a nap. You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about how you were finally free. Obviously, you have to study hard but your freedom is exciting.

You don't have to worry about getting too drunk anymore, worry about how far a party is, look at the clock in fear you'll get home late or the worst, rush sex. You've had your share of sex but they've only been hookups so far. You know how much dedication and time, committing to somebody takes. And you just didn't have the liberty before.

Now you're ready to play the field. Find who you want to be with or who you definitely do not want to be with.

When you wake up and grab your phone to dismiss the alarm that was ringing, you find notifications from a text chain titled Oliver's Party.

Your number must've been shared by Hoseok.

The guy had sent details about a party at his apartment in the evening. He had asked for a response from whoever wanted to come.

You quickly type a Me!, thrilled by the idea of a party. Finally, an opportunity to enjoy yourself to the fullest.

You look at the other members of the group, there are some recognizable faces that you saw at the campus, then you find him. Him. The guy who sat behind you on the plane. The guy with a tattoo sleeve and a lip piercing.

You get to know his name, Jeon Jeongguk, it says on the screen.

His profile has a picture of him, a selfie with him pouting and making a peace sign.

You look at the picture for far too long than you know is appropriate. Stare at his lips and his doe eyes.

You shake your head goin back from his profile to the group chat and check the new texts. He hasn't replied so he might not be coming. He did seem a bit of a reserved type of guy to you. You didn't hear him talk too much, just once or twice with Park Jimin, he even denied Hoseok when he offered him chocolate, who is actually the type you think most people would like to talk to.

More than a guy, you also feel the need of a girlfriend when you are unable to decide what dress you should wear to the party. After getting into some and tossing them away, you finally opt for a white slightly oversized t-shirt and black skirt to be paired with boots.

You comb your hair nicely before you pick your purse up to leave. Switching off the lights, you check your phone for updates on the cab you had booked. You lock your door properly before going down the stairs.

There's an apartment across the hall from yours. You wonder who lives there. Most units in the building are occupied by students from nearby universities or young people who are singles.

When you reach your location, you find a group of girls moving inside together. They seem to be best friends, must've been together before they came here.

You don't wanna become part of a group because then you'll always be treated like an outsider somebody who doesn't know the fun times from the past or the inside jokes.

You want a loner who won't have many others to talk to. Somebody who if you lend an ear to them would lend one back to you.

You went through a friendship breakup at seventeen. She was your best friend since middle school. You only realised how one-sided it was once you grew older.

You heard her ran about her problems even at 2 am with full attention but if you told her about yours, she would make some excuse and change the topic or cut the call or pretend that she was busy.

You look around as you enter the house. You find those recognizable faces present, chattering away in different corners. Then your eyes fall on Hoseok.

He stands with a drink in his hands and a grin on his face. The people around him laugh. You recognise the blonde guy that was sitting beside Jeongguk.

You walk straight to him. Nervous about talking to strangers.

"Hoseok," You tap his shoulder and he turns towards you with a smile.

"Oh hey" He gleams when he finds you.

"I was waiting for you. Saw your text saying you wanted to come," You nod.

"Everybody came except Jungkook," Jimin says.

"Isn't it Jeongguk?" You ask. Thinking he must've gotten it wrong.

"Yeah, but he said he goes by Jungkook amongst friends," Jimin tells you.

"Oh," you tilt your neck slightly. He offers you a drink which you accept.

Taking a sip, you make small talk with them.

Your eyes wander, scanning the room for a girl you might want to befriend. After a few minutes pass by, you find someone.

You walk upto her as she stands near the counter where drinks were kept. You pour beer for yourself. One could take as much or as less as they want.

She turns towards you when you stand by her side. Hesitates before she asks, "Are these all alcoholic? I don't drink," she says.

"Oh no, they do have fruit beer. It's non alcoholic," you tell her.

"By the way, I'm Teja. Political science. And you?" She asks. You smile at her as she introduces herself. You can understand the hesitancy and nervousness in her tone because you feel the same emotions too.

You tell her about yourself and talk about some other stuff. Both of you share about your previous educational qualifications and other interests.

Soon you get her into the informal stuff. Ask her what she thinks about Hoseok. Her thoughts match yours. He's a decent guy, seems respectful and loveable.

You excuse yourself and go near him. He excuses himself too. The two of you stand in a corner to talk.

He tells you about how he met Jimin. They'd been in the same university, different majors but met through mutual connections and ended up applying and getting selected in the same uni for master's.

You think how lucky he is to have a friend accompanying him. It can be scary alone. It is for you somewhat, but you mentally prepared for months.

"I wanted you to come to the party so bad," He says.

"I knew you shared my number," you say and he agrees, nodding.

Hoseok keeps leaning closer and closer as you two talk. For a second, you fall silent, he looks in your eyes before he takes the final lean in and closes the gap.

His lips are on yours, you gently bite on his lower lip when you feel his tongue trying to push inside your mouth. You let him.

With his tongue in your mouth, you are pulling him in, grabbing his hair. His hand rests on your waist. He pulls back slowly. Looks at you. He's breathless.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asks getting all sorts of ideas he wants to execute.

You bite your lower lip before you nod.

"Before Jimin sees... let's go." He swiftly takes you outside. Asks, "mine or yours?"

"Mine," you answer. You trust him a little but not so much to be able to go sleep with him at his place. It's just the way you were brought up, you're always trying to protect yourself even when you are trying to have fun.

The cab ride to yours is silent, he passes a playful smile at you a couple times but mostly you two look out the windows, trying to learn and adapt yourself to the names of thed streets and such.

He rests his hands on your waist when you unlock your door. Turns you towards himself, once you two are inside and the door is locked.

"You are sure about this right? I mean you are a bit drunk so," He scratches behind his ears as he speaks.

"Hoseok, you have my full consent. I wanted to do it since before I got drunk." You reveal the secret to him. He smirks before kissing you.

Hoseok isn't the type to just sleep with anyone without knowing anything at all about them. It helps him that he does know something about you. Knows that the university does background checks and everything.

He isn't wanting to have sex with you just for the sake of sex, but because he likes you. Likes you far more than he should. Someone he's met less than twenty four hours ago.

There's just something about you that strikes right. You're just his type.

After a good amount of time spent kissing and stroking, you get down to business.

You're too aroused already. Thinking about how you don't have to rush anything. If you decide you can lay with him in bed later.

More so thinking about if he's gonna be the first guy to give you an orgasm. You always have to leave before it happens.

This time you don't have to.

It's not that you are a complete stranger to an orgasm, you have given yourself uncountable.

You look down at his cock wrapped with the condom. He's long, not as thick but long. You know he's better than the guys you've been with before when he asks you for consent again.

He's so sweet, you press a kiss on the tip of his nose. You pull your skirt up as you align yourself with him. He's sat on the chair by your study desk. You can't believe you're doing this here before you got the chance to sit on it and learn something.

Truth remains, you are here more for other things than studying. You know you'll do that too, because you are you. You are always on top of your work. Ace your exams. Complete assignments always at time. And once you start studying a topic, you don't stop until your brain can barely take in more information about it.

Hoseok moans as you slowly start to grind. It's been a while since he's had sex. Still he manages well to not just trip over the edge too soon. You feel good, too good. Your pussy, tight and warm.

There's a small square-shaped glass pane on the wall behind your desk. It gives a narrow view of the hall outside your room. It's one-way glass, meaning nothing can be seen from the outside but you can see a red colored view of the outside world.

The door across the hall opens and a guy steps out. You immediately recognise the tattoos that adorn his arm. He stands with his back to the wall and lights up a cigarette.

His all black outfit suits him better than the denim combo he was wearing earlier. He looks sexy when he pushes his hair back. Even sexier when he blows smoke out. You notice the flex of his jaw as he sucks in. His eyes have a hint of danger to them which has you clenching your jaw.

Well, something else clenches too, has Hoseok groaning, biting on your shoulder. Your pace increases as you finally feel yourself getting closer to a climax. And what's making it happen... you'd rather not acknowledge it.

You can barely believe he lives across the hall. Wish he is just visiting a friend. If he actually does, then you reckon, it's gonna be hell living in this apartment for you.

He stands there not just to smoke a cigarette. He knows that you've got a guy inside with you. He knows the guy's gonna leave. He's counting minutes before he'll have to make up something to check if you're still alive.

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jung hoseok #jung hoseok smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic recs #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts series #jeongguk

[gallawitchxx]

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

#welp - throws whatever this is at you #alskfjalkj #i realized that both of my kisses are at the very end of the ficlet & aren't actually described #lolol #maybe my next attempt should be 1K words of just describing the kiss #no actual context needed #just tongues #anyway THANKS DEANNA I LOVE YOU DEANNA #shameless #shameless fanfiction #prompt fill #ian x mickey

[moodymelanist]

Is There A Problem, Officer?

happy day 6 of @nestaarcheronweek, and happy birthday Nesta! I hope you all enjoy this… not so quiet birthday party 😉

Summary: Nesta wanted to celebrate her twenty-sixth birthday quietly, but her friends had… other ideas.

Word Count: 3k

♕♕♕♕♕

Nesta

“Happy birthday, Nesta!” Elain and Feyre said in unison as Nesta opened her townhouse door.

“Thank you,” Nesta replied, pleased to see her sisters. Elain had come bearing cake and Feyre had come bearing alcohol, both of them just as welcome as her sisters’ faces. “And thanks for coming.”

Nesta was turning twenty-six today, and instead of going out and getting drunk with her friends, she’d decided to do something a little more lowkey. She’d quickly learned twenty-five was the age her body had decided to turn on her, and she wasn’t exactly keen to repeat the vicious hangover she’d survived last year.

So instead of getting all dressed up and hitting the town, she’d decided to do something much more relaxed. She’d invited her sisters and some close friends over to order in some food, drink some wine, and otherwise have a good time ringing in Nesta’s birthday. Everyone had been more than willing to go along with it — even Feyre, who was always chomping at the bit to do something more exciting — but Nesta had been looking forward to seeing the people she cared about too much to really question it.

“Like we’d miss your birthday,” Feyre replied as she and Elain walked inside, somehow managing to shut the door behind her without dropping anything. “Even if it’s not as exciting as last year.”

“Sorry I don’t want to spend the next morning puking my guts out again,” Nesta answered as they made their way to the kitchen, rolling her eyes. Feyre’s boyfriend at the time had been surprisingly willing to come take care of her, so she’d been spared most of the aftermath.

“As the person holding your hair back, I’m a big fan of your decision,” Elain agreed with a little laugh. “No offense, Nesta.”

“None taken,” Nesta responded, snorting. She helped Feyre and Elain unload their goodies and the three of them took a few minutes to properly arrange everything on the counter. “Okay, that’s fine for now. Come say hi to everyone else.”

Keep reading on AO3 here!

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust

#nestaweek2024 #Nessian #acotar #acosf #nesta archeron #Cassian #pro nessian #pro nesta archeron #pro Cassian #moodymelanistwrites #Nessian prompts

[jelzorz]

176.

Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.

It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.

He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.

"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."

Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."

"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"

"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"

Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"

"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."

Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."

"Big assumption," snorts Soren.

"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"

He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."

"Good gods."

"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."

Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"

"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."

Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."

(And he does).

#inspired by that one post of Soren and his toy dragon <3 #i also know that callum stitches an antimagic blanky so i imagine he can also fix a plush dragon #also also i specifically did not name the mother of sorens children but if you know you know #(the twins belong to raayllum) #rayllum #(tangentially) #in anticipation

[penkura]

last forever [1/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Notes: Hello, this is a fanfic I've been working on for a few months now. I'm still not done, but I figured I would go ahead and start posting it here as a cross post with Quotev and AO3. Sometimes I find this, Zoro and the story, hard to write, but I'm trying. This will NOT be a one-to-one rehashing of the arcs but will have more focus on Zoro and Reader's relationship as it progresses. The first two chapters are written in past tense, everything afterward is present tense, sorry about that. I've been having more fun writing present tense instead of past tense. I have the first three chapters completed, I'm still working on chapter four, but hope to have it done for Monday, and I intend to update mostly on Mondays for this one. Zoro and Reader call each other husband and wife at times, it's in italics on purpose. Hope you enjoy this one.

You were so grateful you couldn't stop crying and thanked him numerous times, never once telling him you hoped you'd never have to get an annulment with him. Your feelings for him were still new, he was a year older than you, but he'd protected you well in the time you knew each other. Of course, you could hold your own as a swordswoman yourself, but Zoro always tried to leave the recon to you while he took out your bounty targets.

Never did you think or imagine your wedding day would be like this. In a courthouse in a backwoods town with no real witnesses, to someone you'd only known for about a year and a half now. This wasn't even out of love for him, he'd only agreed to prevent you from being legally forced into marriage with a man several years older than you who had two other wives already.

No, you and Roronoa Zoro weren't in love, but he was trying to help you out so you didn't end up in a bad situation or with bodyguards chasing you down to force you back to your home village. When you had told him the story, he was honestly disgusted hearing how your family was treating you like an object to be sold, instead of as your own person. The whole reason you'd run away from home was to avoid this, but a letter brought to you by your family's personal carrier bird a few weeks ago changed that. As soon as you turned eighteen, if you weren't married or engaged to someone else, you'd be forced into marrying the creep that agreed to this when you were just fifteen. While you broke down in tears out of fear, Zoro told you he'd marry you to keep you from being taken back home. You told him he didn't have to, but he brought up that after your family heard, if they dropped the arranged marriage, you could get an annulment and it would be like this marriage never happened. You'd be free from your family and the creep, still able to travel and live your own life.

So, a week after you turned eighteen, once you reached a small town with a courthouse, you both immediately went there to get this sham of a marriage completed. The clerk looked you both over several times, asking your ages and you lied, claiming you were both twenty-one when she said you'd need parental approval if you were younger than twenty. She didn't ask for proof, instead mumbling something to herself about how it seemed people were getting married younger and younger every year. No more questions about witnesses, parental approval, or identification to prove your ages, the older woman just filled out the paperwork and had you two sign it for processing.

While it was being processed, she sent you to the other side of the room to sit and wait.

"Thank you."

Zoro just shrugged, wishing the old bat would hurry it up so you could find a hotel and get a room so he could go to sleep. "You don't have to keep thanking me."

Nodding, you bit your lip. It was weird to think you'd legally be husband and wife, despite not being in love with each other, but part of you hoped that maybe over time Zoro would come to love you, and you him, so you'd be a few steps ahead of the curve.

The clerk called you both back over a few minutes later, stamping the papers in her hands and pulling a few more. "You're legally married now, congratulations. I've given you an extra copy since you requested it, and here's an annulment form if you've decided you made a mistake. You have six months to fill out and submit it, at any courthouse, otherwise you'll have to get a divorce."

You nodded and thanked the old woman, who told you two to be careful as you both left. You weren't entirely sure why, but if Zoro knew, he kept his mouth shut about it. Once you left, Zoro started looking for a place to stay while you found somewhere you could have dinner. Neither of you planned to stay in this town for more than a night, so you weren't worried about cashing in any bounties that day.

After finding a place to eat, you stayed nearby while you wrote a brief letter to your family and sent it to them, with your marriage certificate, by your family carrier bird. You really just hoped and prayed that they would accept this information and not still demand you return home, whether they wanted to meet Zoro because they believed your letter, or they wanted you to annul the marriage immediately to marry the creep that agreed to it first. Either way, you had no plans to follow their demands or return home.

You and Zoro didn't meet up until it was about dinner time, not a word about your marriage being spoken but your plans to leave the next morning and head to the next town were the main subject. You split off again after dinner, Zoro giving you the second key to your hotel room while he took a walk, in case you wanted to go and shower or go on to bed. You did so, taking a long shower to keep yourself distracted before choosing one of the two beds as yours for the night, laying face down with your face in the pillow. By the time Zoro did return, you were nearly asleep until he woke you when he opened the door.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine…I wasn't sleeping yet."

You weren't sure if it was just you, but things felt awkward with Zoro now. It probably was just you, because he went to bed like nothing was different, telling you that he wanted to leave as soon as possible in the morning. Shells Town was the next destination for the two of you, since a Marine base was there you figured new bounty posters would be available.

You spent the night half awake, unsure of what you were feeling anymore, but you knew one thing.

It was definitely not the kind of wedding day you ever expected to have.

+!+

What do I do, what do I do??

Pacing around the Marine fortress, you didn't know if you should even try to break in and free Zoro or just wait for the month he agreed on with Helmeppo to be up. All of this because he protected a little girl from the brat's dogs and punched him in the face, the spoiled boy using it as an excuse to bring Zoro in like a criminal, and you just weren't sure what you should do. He'd told you not to interfere and when Helmeppo tried to include you in it, you were surprised Zoro threatened him further and said you had no part in the matter.

Stopping, you sighed and crouched, holding your head in your hands and whining. "What do I do…?"

"Hey, you okay??"

The voice above you sounded kind, and you looked up to see a boy with a straw hat and a scarf under his left eye, with another young boy who had pink hair and glasses. Both looked concerned, wondering why you looked like you were fighting a headache outside of the Marine fortress.

"I'm fine…"

"You sure?" The boy in the hat grinned at you, wanting to really make sure you were fine, getting eye level with you while the other boy looked nervously around. "You don't look fine!"

"Luffy!"

You laughed, sighing a bit and standing up, the boy called Luffy following suit. "Yeah, I'm…I'm sure. My friend just…the Marines got him, I'm not sure what to do."

Luffy and the other boy, Koby you learned, both questioned you until you revealed it was Zoro that was your friend, causing Luffy to get excited as he climbed the wall to look into the yard, while Koby was even more nervous than before. He couldn't even believe that you were friends with the notorious pirate hunter Zoro, let alone traveling with him.

"Hey so that's him??"

Koby climbed up with Luffy and nearly fainted, almost falling off the wall when he saw Zoro. You were so focused on the two boys you didn't notice the little girl, Rika, climbing in and over the wall with rice balls in hand. You could hear her offering them to Zoro despite him telling her to scram, before Helmeppo showed up and had her thrown back over the wall, Luffy catching her and surprising you.

"Hey, I'll take her back to her mom's place!"

Luffy nodded and gave Rika to you, letting you run off with her. You got Rika back to her mother's restaurant, making sure she was alright when Luffy and Koby arrived. Luffy told Rika that Zoro actually ate the rice balls Helmeppo ruined, which didn't really surprise you. He had a soft spot for kids, you'd noticed over time, and always tried to help them if he could.

When Helmeppo came back around and started bragging that he was going to have Zoro executed in a few days, Luffy did the same thing and punched him in the face. The three of you ran off, Luffy jumping over the wall to tell Zoro that if he helped him out, he had to join his pirate crew, but Zoro didn't get a chance to fully agree or deny before Luffy ran off to the fortress to find his swords. Koby and you attempted to untie Zoro, but he was arguing against this due to the deal he made with Helmeppo.

"Come on, I only have to last a couple weeks more!"

"He's not gonna let you go! He's gonna have you executed tomorrow!"

"What?!"

Zoro looked at you, wondering if you had heard that or if Koby was lying to him, even though the younger boy had no reason to lie to him.

"I heard every word, that's exactly what he said."

The Marines, including Axe-Hand Morgan, came after the three of you and attempted to fire at you and Koby, but you knew how to use your sword well enough to block them from hitting Koby or you with their bullets.

Luffy returned finally, blocking another set of bullets about to hit the three of you, showing off his rubber powers which actually kind of freaked you out. Zoro, finally having his three swords back, was able to get free and stop the Marines from attacking all of you any further, calling Luffy Captain after agreeing to join his pirate crew. Another shock for you, one that you'd have to deal with later on.

Luffy was the one to beat Morgan, the other Marines all cheering once they realized they were free from the tyrant's reign.

The whole thing made you smile, glad things had worked out, even as Zoro nearly passed out from hunger, making you laugh and shake your head.

"You're so lame sometimes, husband."

+!+

"So why'd you call him husband earlier??"

Face turning red, you looked at Zoro who sat next to you in Luffy's small boat that just barely comfortably held the three of you. Your husband was fast asleep, arms behind his head, but you waved your hand in front of his face to make doubly sure he was asleep, before hearing a light snore come from him.

Scooting across the boat, you sat right next to Luffy who gave you a confused smile.

"Look, Luffy…you can't tell anyone else you recruit."

"Huh?"

You were trying to keep your voice down so Zoro didn't wake, but Luffy acted like he couldn't even hear you.

"Zoro and I are married."

"You're WH–"

You threw your hands over his mouth, looking over to Zoro barely moving, but still fast asleep. You'd quieted Luffy just in time so he didn't wake your swordsman.

"We're married, but it's only because he's helping me with something. We're not in love, we're not a couple. It's…a marriage of convenience okay?"

Luffy nodded, like he understood everything you just told him. He didn't really, but he at least understood you and Zoro weren't in love, just married.

Weird, but he thought he got it.

"Please, don't tell anyone. I'm waiting to hear from my family before we annul the marriage."

That part confused him, but Luffy decided to agree and promised he wouldn't tell anyone, he didn't question you further. He thought you and Zoro were close, he wouldn't have been that surprised if you said you two were in love and together, but if you said you weren't, that this was just a friend helping another friend, he'd believe you.

That, and as soon as his stomach started growling he forgot anything else he wanted to ask.

"Do you have any food, Luffy?"

"Nope!" Luffy grinned and your face paled, looking at Zoro who just snored again and you had a feeling of dread.

"Oh lord what have we done?"

#one piece #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #one piece x reader #last forever

[laura1633]

Have you ever written secret omega for lestappen?

I have written a secret omega lestappen but it was also an alternative universe with Charles as a secret omega F1 driver and Max as an alpha cuddle therapist. I actually removed it off ao3 as I wanted to work it into a longer story so I can't link it but I have included it below the cut.

Max could still very vividly recall just how surprised everyone was when he presented as an alpha. He too had long suspected that he was an omega. It was a reasonable assumption, he seemed to possess all the qualities people liked to associate with omegas and very few alpha traits.

His dad had been overjoyed, apparently alphas were strong and far more likely to succeed in business. He tried his best to look at the positives, his father was technically correct, society seemed to have some very outdated views about omegas in the workplace. At least presenting as an alpha gave him more opportunities in life. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

During his teenage years he tried to fit into the mould that had been laid out for him. He was boisterous which at times spilled into anger and aggression. He tried to go into everything full on without fear and take what he wanted. For the most part he got away with it. When he picked fights people wrote it off as just something young alphas did, when he argued people mostly backed down or backed away. It never came naturally though and as he got a little older his behaviour started to feel more erratic and out of control rather than strong and stable.

A complete misjudgement in his early twenties changed the course of his life for the better. After a few too many drinks he had gotten himself into a fight with a much, much larger alpha and had ended up in hospital. When he was eventually discharged, still battered and bruised, he decided to stop pretending to be something he wasn’t and set out to become the alpha he always wanted to be. He let himself be vulnerable and display his emotions openly, he softened and calmed. The best part was that the more he settled into his new ways the more he realised that everything he had learnt about omegas and alphas was based on oversimplified ideas.

Whilst his new outlook may not have impressed his father it did lead him to his job and he loved his job more than anything because he was finally doing something good in the world.

The alpha buzzed the apartment for his newest client. Today was the first meeting, a time to reassure and explain all the benefits that came along with cuddling. It was also a chance for the client to set their boundaries and really think about their needs. Max was realistic, he knew a lot of people did not understand the virtues of cuddle therapy but he one hundred percent believed in it. He had evidence to back it up too, he had helped so many people.

Yesterday he had spent the morning cuddled up to an elderly omega who had lost her husband a year prior and just wanted to feel some level of intimacy and warmth without the guilt or hassle of trying to find someone new. Then there were clients who were dealing with stress but had no-one else to turn to, he would feel them settling into his arms and slowly relaxing. Then there were omegas who had had traumatic experiences with alphas and needed reassurance. When it came down to it most people had a basic need for comfort and kindness but didn’t always have a support system in place to provide it and he was more than happy to be there to help them through the tough times.

This client was his first ‘celebrity’. Not that they would be treated any differently. Each client was special and unique and the sessions were designed around their individual needs. It did however mean he had had to sign a very lengthy non disclosure agreement, and that was how he came to discover that F1 World Champion Charles Leclerc was not an alpha but an omega.

Max knocked on the door and patiently waited, when Charles eventually answered he looked a little hesitate but let him in.

“I don’t know how we start..” Charles mumbled, clearly a little stressed.

“We can just talk first” Max smiled reassuringly.

“You can’t tell anyone any of this can you? I just, if people find out then I will not be allowed to drive” Charles chewed on the sleeve of his oversized jumper.

“No I can’t and I would never. The whole point of this is for you to relax. Why don’t you tell me what you are hoping to get out of this?”

“Honestly, I just… I just want to be held. I have to spend all my time pretending that I am something I am not, sometimes I just want to lie in an alpha’s arms” Charles felt his face blushing red.

“That is understandable”

“It is?” Charles looked up hopeful.

“Of course. Human interaction is so important, genuine human interaction”

Charles smiled, “See this is what I mean, I can get a friendly hug or a pat on the back but I just.. well I am off my suppressants for winter break and I just.. I just need…to be myself and feel nice”

“We can do that” Max assured, he knew a little about trying to be something you weren’t. He may not have had to go on suppressants but he had certainly suppressed his true self for years. He would never push Charles to reveal his true designation but he would certainly give him as much comfort as he could.

“Can we just .. I mean I would prefer not to talk much”

“That is fine, this is your time, whatever you need” Max reassured. He preferred to talk first, to find out what the client needed so he could plan appropriately but some clients just wanted physical contact straight away, which was fine, he found those same clients opened up eventually.

“Do you do it here or like on a bed or in silence or ..”

“It is however you are most comfortable. We can of course cuddle in bed but I find most clients prefer something a little less intense the first time. Maybe cuddle here, in front of a movie if you would prefer”

“Sure, yes that would be good” Charles exhaled deeply, already flicking on the television and finding something inoffensive to put on.

“Okay I am going to hug you now Charles, let me know if you want me to move away or if anything is uncomfortable or overwhelming”

Charles nodded, he wasn’t entirely sure how a hug could be overwhelming but then again he had never actually snuggled up to alpha properly before. He had pretty much given up intimacy for racing. He took breaks in his suppressants and lived as an omega in the confines of his home during winter break but he could never chance a hook up or a relationship.

The omega shuffled a little closer into the alpha’s arms and tried to settle against their chest. Max’s body was warm, his chest broad and soft, his arms large and muscular. It was exactly what Charles was hoping it would be. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of cedarwood that blended so beautifully with his own sweet scent.

As Max wrapped his arms around him and held him close Charles felt himself drifting in and out of sleep, each time waking up to hear himself purring contently until he felt like he was floating. The omega took steadying breaths, moaning softly as he concentrated on Max’s chest rising and falling and the sound of his heartbeat.

“Are you okay Charles?”

“Yes, I …I…” Charles suddenly realised he was crying, Max’s t-shirt was wet where he had been resting his head, he moved away quickly, completely embarrassed, “Sorry I am not sure why I am crying”

“It is normal” Max tentatively soothed an arm up and down the omega’s arms and ushered them back closer to him, “It is just a lot, yes?”

“Yes” Charles mumbled, he really hadn’t expected such a physical reaction to being held but it truly was overwhelming.

“Just relax Charles, I’ve got you. You are safe”

“Okay” Charles tried to let go of the tension in his body, thinking about each of his muscles in turn until he felt weightless again, only being held down by the alpha’s strong grip., “It…. It feels nice”

“Good, would you like me to talk to you?”

“Maybe” Charles looked up to meet the alpha’s eyes, “And say what?”

“Just the truth” Max smiled, “That I think you deserve only good things. That you deserve to be able to be yourself”

“I wish” Charles hummed contently at the thought of finally being free, of finally letting everyone know that their precious alpha world champion was actually an omega.

“Perhaps one day” Max held Charles tightly, the omega’s body relaxing more and more as they held each other.

“One day” Charles closed his eyes and relaxed. One day he was going to do it, he was going to turn up as his true authentic self, was going to pave the way for other omegas. Today though, today he was just content to be in Max’s arms.

#Never have I ever game #Lestappen fanfic

[v1xyboy9]

4Me 4Me - Matt sturniolo

♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱

♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱

Summary: completely ghosting your ex boyfriend definitely helped you get over him…right ??

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI !!!, use of alcohol, weed, and nicotine, language, tiny bit of smut, switch!matt x Switch!reader, uses of pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, pretty girl), not proof read, lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 5.8k

You and Matt dated for a year and ended up on bad terms due to your jealous toxic behavior and Matt’s possessiveness. For the first 2 months of the break up yall stayed in contact and still acted like a couple until you got a fucking grip and completely ghosted him on the 3rd month. You started going out a lot more and making new friends even flirted with a couple guys but nothing was truly helping that bit of emptiness that you still felt without Matt.

It’s now been 10 months since you and Matt broke up and 8 months since you’ve completely cut contact. You stopped going out as much you really just focusing on yourself and fixing your bad behaviors making yourself a bit cold and distant with everyone in your life, your friend even calling you “heartless” at one point. And maybe also you know tattoo therapy….

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Tara invited me to her party that’s tonight and of course I said yes, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her or even went to a party period.

Its was currently 8pm and I’m contemplating going now that I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror or a bit to long

“Yeah no I can’t wear a dress”

Everything about it was just unflattering and too feminine I change into some baggy dark wash jeans with one of those black rave star halter tops that literally only covers your boobs and the rest of it is straight up string

I accessories with a black BEBE belt , black and white tie dye beanie, studded cuff bracelets, and to finish off the look some black and white DC shoes. I also make sure to lift my thong a tad bit so you could see it poking out of my waistband

“Okay now I feel better”

I definitely started dressing less fem and more masc over these couple months but honestly it’s a nice change I personally think it’s made my style better

I check the time it’s 8:30pm and my Uber should be here in 5 minutes. I grab my phone, my vape, my penjamin, and my house keys. Lock the door and happily go outside and get in my Uber

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Pulling up to Tara’s party you got a bit of a qweezie feeling in your stomach but just brush it off texting Tara letting her know your here and step out of the car thanking the Uber then head inside.

It was loud and surprisingly dark you try to look around and see if you recognized anyone…..JAKE ! It was always easy to spot him due to his height. You head in the direction of Jake but also looking around to see if you know anyone else, you see Tana in the distance with her bf, Johnnie awkwardly standing next to Sam while he talks to Colby. It was nice to see your friends again you couldn’t lie you missed being out like this.

You finally get to Jake lightly tugging on his jacket for him to notice you, Jake looks down in confusion but breaks into a smile once he sees you

“Y/NNNNN nice to see that you escaped prison” he chuckles and embraces you into a hug

“Please don’t make me seem like a criminal Infront of people that don’t know me” chuckles “but thank you I really have Tara to thank though, speaking of her where is she ?”

“I actually do not know but maybe the bar knowing her”

Chuckles “yeah you’re right”

You turn in the direction of the bar and sure enough you see her tiny self

“God damn y/n how many tattoos did you get within these past couple months, your more covered than me”

You look around confused for a second then realized you never posted about your tattoos when you got them

“Oh shit right dude honestly um I thinkkkk twenty, cause I have 28 in total right now and when we meet I only had 8”

“Your crazy”

“Says you you also have a fuck ton of tattoos”

“Yeah but mine are small patch work you’res is like HUGE”

“If you think any of these are huge then you should see my most recent tattoo it goes down my whole leg”

“Your actually insane now go see Tara cause she has something for you”

He lightly pushes the small of your back in the direction of the bar which you moved heading to where Tara is your anxiety spiking for some reason you take a hit of your vape and continue

Tara sees you coming her way and started squealing in excitement and runs to hug you and you hug her back of course

“Ughhh you don’t know how much I’ve missed you you really went all ghost on everyone for so long” she looks you up and down “like look at these tattoos most of these weren’t here a while go” she chuckles “you look so hot though maybeeee might get a guys number you neverrrr know”

You laugh at her teasing blushing a little bit

“Nono I’m really not here for that I just want to have a good time you know that”

“Hehe okay we’ll take a shot with me pleaseeee”

“Just one”

“Three”

“Two”

“Fine two”

“Give me a chaser bro I am not taking these straight”

Tara laughs handing you her Diet Coke “Go first”

I throw back both of the shots then chug down the coke

“Uhhh fuck I hate alcohol so much”

You Take a hit of your vape and pen

“Smoking is also bad for you, you know”

“Yes but I much rather kill my lungs then my liver thank you very much, also Jake said you have something for me what is it”

“Oh yeah um it’s not a gift or anything but more like someone gave me this to give back to you, open your hand”

You give Tara your hand while she places something in it

“Promise me not to get upset”

“I can’t promise anything Tara but I won’t make a big deal out of it”

“Okay”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She moves her hand, it’s a ring and bracelet…. Matt’s ring and bracelet that I gave him when we first started dating.

“Well that sucks it’s the one thing I wasn’t expecting coming from him, give it back to him they’re his not mine”

“Give it to him yourself y/n it’s been 8 months”

“Yeah I guess right…”

Tara smiles a little

“Okay well let’s not worry about that now let’s have fun”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Nick pov

“MATT YOURE COMING INSIDE”

“NO IM NOT I BROUGHT YOU AND CHRIS HERE NOW GET OUT”

“I’m tired of your depressed self you never have fun, ever since y/n broke up with you, you’ve been MISERABLE and I’m tired of it, it’s been 8 months officially, tighten the fuck up and get over it”

“Matt you even got ready JUST GO IN you act like we’re gonna see y/n, I tell you all the time that women has CHANGED for the better at that. she doesn’t go out anymore she’s a homebody and on her work grind dude”

“I don’t understand why you still talk to her”

“She didn’t want too for the longest but I made her stay my friend cause I didn’t wanna lose a good friend cause of my brothers possessives and his own problem’s”

“She also had things wrong with her”

“NO SHIT MATTTTTTT SHES THE ONE WHO NOTICED THAT AND DECIDED TO END IT”

“Matt come on dude you’ll be with us the whole time”

“I do not wanna go”

“You are not about to miss ANOTHER Tara yummy party now get your ass out of the car, NICK GRAB HIM”

I hop out of car and open the driver door and pull Matt out the car while Chris pushes him out, Matt is extremely pissed off

“OKAY JUST GET THE FUCK OFF ME”He straightens himself out

“Okay we can go inside yall are so annoying”

“Wait Matt where is your ring and bracelet?”

“I guess I just forgot them”

“You fucking idiot”

I could tell he was lying it’s not hard to tell he always wears them and he was fidgeting with his hands way to much

My phone vibrated in my pocket it was from y/n

“Nick are you at Tara’s party ?”

“About to go in why !?”

“Im coming outside”

“WAIT YOURE HERE ?!?!?”

“Um yeah Tara invited me??”

“Stay inside”

“Now why the fuck would you tell me to stay inside?”

I look up from my phone to see y/n coming towards us with a confused look on her face

“Oh fuck”

My eyes dart to the side looking at matt for the second, she turns her head to look at him then tilts her head

“Oh That’s why, well I came to give you Matts bracelet and ring back but since he’s here”

She walks to him and places Matt’s bracelet and ring in his hand

“Next time don’t send someone else to do your dirty work Matthew I know you’re not weak like that”

“Y/n I-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself Matt I don’t need to know, it was good see you three, I’ll be going inside now if you’ll excuse me”

We watched as y/n walked back inside

“Now if I must say y/n has only gotten more attractive, holy fuck even the way she composed herself”

“Chris shut the fuck up” I start “well is that what you wanted Matt”

“Her tattoos…holy fuck”

“Oh my god your not even paying attention”

“I am I am but what the hell why did she only get more attractive and I’ve gotten less”

“Your not ugly your a very handsome boy”

“Yes a very attractive young man”

“Okay yeah but COMPARED TO THAT no dude I just fumbled”

“I mean not really yall where toxic asf nearing the end of it”

“Yeah but she’s changed”

“And you haven’t soooo let’s move on with this conversation and get THE FUCK inside please and thank you”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Y/n pov

I run back inside to find tara and grab her by the arm

“Matt is here I ran into him by accident”

“Girl huh how?”

“Nick told me he was outside so I went to give him Matt’s stuff but he was literally right there I just gave Matt his stuff of course but I spoke to him but I feel like I was super harsh with it”

“Girl breathe… talk to him literally what is the harm it’s been 8 months I’m sure he would understand also it’s not like you like him still”

Bats eyelashes blank stare

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me y/n”

“IM JOKING IM JOKING but I do wanna apologize to him for everything cause it was mostly my fault”

“Okay but wasn’t he like overly possessive”

“Yeah… but I always pushed his boundaries with that shit and was always insecure and made him not have any privacy like I definitely need to apologize to him more than he does to me”

“Instead of telling me that why don’t you just go”

“Heeehhh let me go hotbox the restroom and enjoy my first thennnn I’ll go talk to him later in the night”

“Might as well get another shot in while you’re at it”

“Ugh fineeee just because I know your gonna bother me about it anyways”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Its 10:35pm now your a bit more drunk then you would like and you where also a tad bit high as well.

You feel all sweaty and crammed now kinda wanting to go home now but you still wanna talk to Matt so you go to find him. you stumble apon chris first though he was sitting and talking to colby and his girlfriend Malia

“Hmm chris have you seen matt?”

“I havent actually why”

“I wanna talk to him”

“y/n youre drunk”

“Yes i know chris im not gonna do anything stupid trust”

“Hmm dont know if i should”

“He going into the bathroom right now” colby spoke up

“Hehe thank you colby also Malia you look absolutely gorgeous”

“Thank you y/n” she giggles

“Hmm of course”

You very joyfully head to where that bathrooms are and stand there and wait for matt to come out, getting more nervous you hit your pen

“You waiting for someone beautiful”

You look up and meet eyes with a guy youve never meet before, you look at him confused

“Random flattery wont work on me”“Awe come on you wouldnt dress that way for no reason”

“What are you implying exactly huh”

“You know what i mean look at you” he goes to grab your waist and you back up

“Hm okay well imma give you two options now. 1. Leave and dont bother me again, or 2. Continue to harass me and i make a scene”

“Awe come on a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be threatening no one” he went to brush your hair behind your ear but you slap his hand away

“Try some stupid shit again dawg”

“Awe what you think you all tuff i bet i could bend you over right here and fuck that attude out of you”

You spit in his face “lmao the fuck you think you are”

“YOU BITCH” he pushes you hard against the wall winding you

Just in the blink on an eye you see matt grab the dude by his collar his slam him against the wall “watch your fucking mouth and if see you put your hands on any women again ill wont just slam you against a wall next time, patchetic excuse of a man” matt lets go of the guy looking over at you worried then comes over too you

“Are you okay ?”

“Yeah i didnt feel it tbh im a little to drunk”

“Um can i jus-”

“Wait no dont say anything can we talk outside i really need to talk to you”

“Um yeah lets go to the van”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You both head outside and get in the van at first it’s just silence between yall until Matt clears his throat so you speak up

“it’s been a while since I’ve sat up here”

“Yeah it’s one think Chris doesn’t have to worry about anymore”

“He must of loved when I stopped coming around huh”

“Only for the part he didn’t have to fight anyone for front seat, he misses messing with you he really sees you as a older sister y/n”

You didn’t even hear him you were too much in your head which lead to word vomit

“I’m sorry for everything, I was a pretty shitty girlfriend I never had trust for you even though you gave me no reason to feel like that I had a lot of mental health issues going on and I pushed everything onto you and it just became more and more toxic cause my jealously and insecurity’s only grew… I truly am sorry for everything”

There was a moment of pure silence which scared you a bit until Matt let out a light chuckle

“I see that you’ve gotten way better at talking about your feelings”

“Yeah it’s called get on anti depressants and getting help”

“Oh shit sorry..”

“Nono oh my god I was joking about the anti depressants, I am on ADHD medications now though” you laugh and how easily he believed you

“You’re an idiot”

“Youre a bigger one”

“Shut up”

“Hey, don’t catch an attitude with me Mister” you grab him by the chin making him look at you then let go

“Okay I’m sorry I take it back, but I do wanna say I still can’t apologize to you about how possessive I was cause well it hasn’t changed, I thought it was cause well I haven’t had any interest in anybody but no… seeing you again especially with other guys it gave the same feeling in the stomach that it did back then as well”

“Matt can I ask you something”

“Yeah of course ?”

“When we were together what was i for you”

He looks at you confused but then just sighs

“Everything. You made everything just feel so perfect nothing was bothersome anymore all my thoughts would leave my head I was just happy… anytime I was away from you all I was waiting for was you to text or call me once you weren’t busy anymore or asleep, everything revolved around you because I wanted it too, you felt like my true safe place… and when you ghosted me it honestly ruined me.

“Matt…”

“I thought it was some kinda sick joke at first but even Nick and Chris couldn’t get through to you.. it felt like my whole world crumbled down. After the first week I got a little better since Nick forced you not to break contact with him and Chris just because of me, I’m pretty sure neither of them told you this but sometime when you would call them they would have the phone on speaker just so I could hear your voice…it was the least they could do they said cause they felt bad”

“I’m sorry Matt I didn’t know it affected you so much…but I do remember on the 4th month of having no contact with you Nick called me at like 3am asking me if I could just get back with you could shut up but I didn’t know what he ment at the time”

He looked confused for a second but then it clicked

“I woke him up one night cause I couldn’t sleep and just complained about how much I missed you”

“You know I unblocked your number on the 4th month right?”

“Huh no what ?!?”

“Yeah I unblocked your number a while ago totally not to see if you would call me or something…but since you didn’t I just assumed you were over it at that point, it lifted a weight off my shoulders but now knowing that wasn’t the case, I’m sorry”

“Hm don’t apologize you didn’t know”

“I still feel bad” you pout

“Wipe that pout off your face you look ridiculous”

“Ugh you’re still so mean when I pout”

“Uh yeah your not a kid don’t baby yourself”

“I don’t even mean too you know that”

He laughs resulting in you taking a hit of your cart and exhale in his face, he waves the smoke out of his face

“Rude”

“YA MOTHER, actually I take that back I love your mom so much”

“She actually asked about you last week well she asked Nick not me”

“Awe did she really?”

“Yeah she asked when you would come to visit her in Boston”

“What yall tell her?”

“Nick told her that he would ask you”

“He never did ask”

“Oh well um when would you wanna go see her and dad?”

“Next time yall take the trip out there I’ll go with yall”

A huge smile plasters across Matts face, he uses his hand to cover his face trying not to seem more happy then he needed to be

“Yeah okay, I’ll let Chris and Nick know and we’ll figure out a week to go”

“Okay perfect, I’m actually kinda excited I haven’t been in forever”

“Does this mean we’re back to being friends?”

“Absolutely” you give him a bright smiles “just make sure to not go back into bad habits, I’ll make Nick go off on you”

“Yeah yeah whatever”

“I’m serious Matthew”

“I promise I won’t go back to my old bad habits”

“Pinky promise”

I hold my pinky out so Matt can interlock his but got distracted by the feeling of the car door opening behind me, it was Chris

“UGHHHAHHHHHH MOVE”

“Chris back now don’t even start”

“She just came back and I already have to sit in the back”

“She’s a women she gets front, go”

“Ughhh”

Chris dramatically closes the door with a big huff then gets in the back with Nick

“Sorryyyyy”

“You’re not sorry you have a full smile on your face”

I couldn’t help but giggle, I missed this to be honest.

“Okay let’s get y/n home and then call it a night huh”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Almost 4 months have passed since the party, you started hanging out with the triples more often even if it was just to sit in there house and do work, Nick wanted you up and out of your house even making you run errands with him and Matt just like yall use to. You were mostly with Nick and sometimes Chris for the first 2 weeks but gradually starting hanging with Matt more often weither it be watching a movie together or just talking about a topic over a meal.

After a month has passed yall started going on night drives together sometimes it wouldnt even be days you were at the house he would just randomly come by your place and tell you to come downstairs. Matt always knew you enjoyed listening to music and driving around at night and it was a nice way to catch up more, matt even opened up a bit more about his insecurities and internal struggles

Now going into a new month the boys planned a trip to Boston to visit their parents and of course you’re going along, you’re currently all packed and waiting for Matt to get to your place your legs bounce with anxiety but also excitement, you haven’t seen there parents in a while

Soon enough Matt texted you that they were here, you quickly headed downstairs seeing the van putting your luggage in the back you could hear Matt screaming at Chris to get in the back, Chris gets out of the front with a huff and gestures at you the get in

“Let’s go passenger princess we don’t have all day we have a flight to catch”

“Chris just shush”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

It’s now 6pm, trip there was nice no difficulties or anything except for Chris trying to scare you while on the plane resulting in Nick and Matt silently yelling at him cause he made you scream super loud by accident. once getting through all the airport security and whatnot yall where finally able to get outside, Nick ordered a Uber for yall while yall waited. You’re still a little tried leaning your head on Matt’s shoulder

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhm just still tired, sorry”

“It’s okay, you can take a nap in my room when we get to the house yeah?”

“Can we eat first?”

“Mom knows we’re coming she said she’s making us dinner so you’ll eat don’t worry”

He tucks your hair behind your hair and kisses the top of your head, only recently he started being physically affectionate with you again and your fine with it he knows your boundaries

Soon enough the Uber gets there and yall head to the sturniolo household

Once there the boys head in first and you follow behind them, Mary Lou ignored the boys and engulfed you into a big hug

“Ohh honey how have you been”

“I’ve been good, how have you been?”

“Oh honey you know the same old same old nothing new around here, I’m glad to see you again I thought I wouldn’t see you again after Matt told me yall broke up”

“I thought the same thing to be honest but everything is worked out now, I’m glad to see you again and doing well”

“Same to you”

“Ayeeee look who it is, my daughter in law that’s technically not my daughter in law anymore but still definitely is to me”

You laugh at jimmys comment before he gives you a small squeeze

“It’s nice to see you again sweetheart”

“Same to you”

“Okok whatever y/n isn’t important what about your sons?”

Of course Chris had to speak up, you see Matt rushing back downstairs you didn’t even see him go upstairs

“Your stuff is in my room if you need anything”

“Thank you Matt”

“Mhm of course”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

It’s been 3 days since yall have been in Boston it’s been a lot of family time and catching up, you’ve been sleeping in Matt’s room on his bed while he continues to protest to sleep on the couch in the living room even though youve told him multiple times that its okay for him to sleep with you.

Its currently 8pm on a wednesday evening its just you and matt in the house chilling in the living room. mary lou, jimmy, chris, and nick went out to a small get together with friends. Matt didnt wanna go out which is common, you stayed because well your not from boston and dont know anybody theyre going out with plus you really wanted to catch up on your reading since your behind.

You get up from the couch to stretch

“Imma go take a quick shower”

“You showered yesterday though?’

“Imma just wash my body off not like im washing my hair”

“Hm okay have fun”

“I guess??”

You giggle as you walk away genuinely wondering why he seemed annoyed by you going to take a shower. You clip your hair back then grab some jammies and your hygiene stuff then go to the restroom to take your quick shower. You lied about the the quick shower you actually ended up doing an everything shower minus your hair cause you felt like it, it still wasnt super long only 20 minutes. After drying off you slip on your black lace panties and your junji ito PJ pants over them, tossing on a black spagettii strap not bothering to put a bra on, You also do your skin care then clean up and head back to matts room putting your dirty clothes in the basket you and matt are sharing for the time being.

You grab your headphones, penjamin, reading glasses, and book from your bag then get comfortable on matts bed putting in your headphone and connecting them to your phone choosing your reading playlist, opening your book placing the book mark next to you and put your glasses on, finally taking a blinker cough your lungs out a bit and now ready to get completely immersed in the book.

Its been 20 minutes since you finished showering matt figured you would comeback downstairs once your done but youve been gone for 40 minutes now and it was bothering him so he went upstairs to his room to see you peacefully reading on his bed not even noticing that he walked in, he decided not to bother you and just grabbed clothes so he could go shower as well leaving you be for now until he was done.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

I picked up my phone to check the time its 7:27pm youve been reading for a little over an hour now, you take a quick stretch then sit back down to continue reading

“Damn you still reading?”

“Oh hm?”

I look up from my book and see Matt shirtless with grey sweatpants on and damp hair. I could feel my face heating up

“I came In here earlier and you were reading I figured by the time I finished my shower you would be done, didn’t know you wear glasses though when did that start”

“Oh. Um they’re just reading glasses I’ve had them for a while now but I never really read but now I use them all the time”

“Can you look at me and point your finger up”

Confused but curious I do as he says, he takes a picture and starts laughing

“You’re so cute”

“Oh shut up, let me see”

“I’m being serious”

He walks over to me showing me his phone with a stupid smile on his face

“I look so stupid”

“Erm actually looking ahh”

“SHUT UP”

“I’m kidding I’m kidding, I think you look very beautiful with your glasses”

He places his hand under my chin making me look up at him threw my glasses

“Don’t look at me with those eyes sweetheart”

“Maybe keep your mind out of the gutter, I’m just looking at you Matt”

He chuckles and lets go of my chin

“Well I’m headed back downstairs enjoy the rest of your night”

“Matt for the love of god can you just stay up here with me”

“Naw naw I don’t wanna bother you”

“Matthew Bernard sturniolo please stay with me”

I don’t know why I’m begging, but I just wanted to be with him I wanted it to feel like old times I don’t want him to put that space between us anymore, I just want him again.

“Are you sure?”

“Matt I swear to god-“

“Okok I get it I’ll stay”

“Okay, I’m almost done with with book though so give me like 5 minutes”

The moment I pick up my book he takes it from my hand and places it in a higher spot where I can’t reach

“You’re done reading cause I’m bored and cause I said so”

“Fine”

I take off my glasses as Matt crawled into bed with me, cuddling closer to him he wraps his arm around me and plays with my hair

“What’s going on sweetheart, what’s going through your head”

“Nothing why do you think that ?”

“Well it’s just that this is the first time we’ve done this In a long time so you know”

“I just wanna be close to you I don’t know, I’m comfortable around you”

“Glad I make you feel comfortable”

He kisses my forehead continuing to run his fingers through my hair, I drape my arm over his chest scooting myself closer to him

“Matt.”

“Yes?”

“Is it bad that I don’t wanna let you go ever again”

“No, cause neither do I. You’re so important to me on so many levels just those 8 months alone went to show me that I was miserable without you”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, you did what you had to do and guess what you learning and progressing also helped me out you know”

Just watching him talk made you smile, Matt in general makes your heart feel warm

“Matt can you kiss me?…”

“Woah..y/n I-“

“Nevermind sorry that was to mu-“

Matt cups my cheeks and places a small peck on my lips then looks at me for reassurance, I nod my head. He pulls me into another kiss it’s slow but passionate just like it’s always been, I began to move myself from my side to the middle to straddle him, my thighs on either side of his body directly placed above his slowly but surely growing erection. I break the kiss, Matt places his hands on my thighs looking up at me

“Are you sure about this”

“If I wasn’t I would tell you”

“Hmkay just making sure baby, is it okay if I mark you”

“Only if they’re hidden”

“Can I make just one of them noticeable?”

“If you buy me the pair of shoes I’ve been wanting”

I said it as a joke cause Osiris NYC 83 skate shoes are 1. Expensive and 2. Lowkey hard to find especially the color ways I want. Seeing a smile spread across Matt’s face told me that he already bought me the shoes and I should have come up with a better deal.

“Whatever your thinking in your pretty little head in correct”

He flipped us over him now being on top of me

“Safe word is meatball”

“Matthew you’ve gotta be kidding me”

He chuckles and kisses my neck

“I’m joking sweetheart gosh, you know it’s always been strawberry nothing has changed”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

He carefully takes the clip out of your hair throwing it across the room, he kisses the side of your lip slowly going down peppering kisses over your neck he lightly bites down on your collarbone earning a whimper out of you

“Ow Matt”

“Sorry baby”

He kisses where he bit soothing his hand over it with his other hand slipping it under your shirt

“Can I take this off?”

You nod your head

“Words sweetheart”

“Yes”

“Arms up”

He easily slips your shirt off again tossing it across the room

“No bra?”

“Shut up”

“Yes ma’am”

He kisses down your chest to stomach leaving marks every once in a while, coming back to your lips giving you a small peck

“My pretty girl”

Your face heats up in embarrassment making you cover your face with your arms

“Awe come on don’t do that baby, let me see your pretty face”

You put your arms down

“There’s my beautiful girl”

“Matt just fuck me”

He chuckles “your so impatient I’m just admiring you honey, it’s been too long also just look at these beautiful tattoos on you”

He traces the stars that go down your left ribs, you squeeze you thighs together at this point everything Matt is doing just feels like teasing

“Do you really need me that bad”

“Oh shut the fuck up”

Matt slides his finger under your waist band

“When is the last time you’ve came y/n”

“Matt don’t make me answer that”

“No I wanna hear the answer”

“Matthew”

“Yes sweetheart”

You sighed knowing damn well he wasn’t gonna let it go

“The week before I ghosted you”

“Hm that was also the last time we had sex isn’t it?”

“Yes now shut up and just fuck me Matt please”

“At least you said please”

He quickly pulls down your bottoms panties included, Kissing down your stomach once again until reaching your pussy giving it a light peck

“Already wet huh?”

You close your legs around his head, you notice his eyes scanning over the tattoo on your under right thigh

“Yeah and what your gonna do about it ??”

“Eat you the fuck out”

(I would write full smut for yall but I’m genuinely so bad at it..)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Now naked cuddling in bed together watching SpongeBob while Matt plays with your hair making you doze off a little

“You tried sweetheart?”

“Kinda”

“Let me get some clothes on you then we can sleep yeah?”

“Yeah”

Matt grabs you a pair of his boxers and a shirt of his

“You got it or want me to do it”

“I’ll do it just throw on some boxers please, I love you and your body and your dick very much but please cover it up”

“Repeat what you said”

“Throw on some boxers please”

“After that”

“I love you?”

“I love you too”

He puts on his boxers while you slip on your as well and put his shirt on, he lays back in bed tacking you in the process

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

“Don’t rush it pretty boy ask me again in the morning and I’ll say yes as of right now though let’s sleep”

“I love you so much”

“I love you too Matt, I won’t leave you again I promise”

“You better you know much I hate when you leave, just stay”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Ragghhh hihiiii um this is kinda an authors note i guesss sorry if this is kinda wack shit I had writters block for 8 months and this is my first writing coming out of it so be nice 3:

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #Spotify #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #smut

[slaymitchabernathy]

Society Smiles

| this story was inspired by the song 'Good Luck Babe!' by Chappell Roan |

| “when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, with your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife” |

"The most attractive thing about a woman is her smile."

Those words have been engrained into Soarynn's mind since she heard them one day at school. One of her classmates had asked their male Professor what he deemed the most attractive quality of a woman. The room had filled with snickers as everyone prepared themselves for a somewhat sexist answer. He'd chuckled and paced the front of the room for a moment before coming to a conclusion and uttering those ten words that changed Soarynn's entire perspective.

She remembered looking over her shoulder at Coriolanus Snow who sat in the back of the classroom with his friends. He was slouched in his chair, his legs spread wide as he leaned back. He'd given her a smirk and she'd felt butterflies in her stomach.

Since she was sixteen all Soarynn had thought about was getting married. Some girls didn't. Some girls had large ambitions and wanted to be doctors or politicians, to really change the world.

But not Soarynn.

Her father always supported her dreams, he was pleased to find that his high society daughter had taken a liking to their customs that some deemed "old fashioned." She attended cotillion classes, and learned how to be the perfect upper-class wife, the society darling.

Eyes bright, chins up, smiles on.

Soarynn was quite possibly the most well-mannered girl under the age of twenty-five in the entire Capitol. She laughed at every joke, smiled for every photograph, dressed effortlessly for every occasion, and above all, she knew her place. She never strived to be an overachiever or to be neck and neck with her male classmates.

So it was no surprise when Coriolanus Snow chose her to be his wife.

They began their relationship after graduating from the Academy. That summer before University was the time when Soarynn got properly acquainted with the personality of Coriolanus Snow. She found out exactly how he liked his coffee, how he liked to be addressed, greeted, treated and, above all, respected.

He expected perfection from her in every way. Neither of them could afford to falter, not when they were at the top. They attended galas and banquets together and he proudly showed her off. Coriolanus became a constant source of stability for Soarynn. If she ever had any doubts about how to act, he was quick to correct them.

He was quick to mold her.

Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like if she chose to go in the other direction if she craved more independence. She didn't linger long with those thoughts though, she couldn't afford to, not when there was a husband to make happy and people to please.

Coriolanus proposed a month after they graduated from University. Their wedding had been a high society wedding with all the bells and whistles. Soarynn had been positively glowing at all the praise their wedding received. Several news outlets commented on their wedding and it only fed both of their egos.

'Coriolanus Snow swoops up the Perfect Bride' 'Soarynn Snow was the Picture Perfect Bride' 'The Perfect Example of Capitol Wealth' 'Snow Lands on Top as Coriolanus Snow secures the Perfect Wife'

That type of praise meant everything to Soarynn. She'd clipped out the headlines from the newspapers to frame in their penthouse. If society deemed her perfect then she had to be perfect, right?

Soarynn felt herself questioning that way of thinking as she slipped on her dress for tonight's party. The Heavensbees were throwing an extravagant party to celebrate another year of the Hunger Games so the Snows had of course been invited. Coriolanus was good friends with Hilarius Heavensbee which meant they were always guaranteed an invitation.

Appearances mattered at things like these events so Soarynn had spent the entire day preparing herself to be the perfect society wife she was always meant to be. Her soft blonde hair was perfectly styled, not a hair out of place thanks to her favorite hair stylist. Some might see her getting her hair professionally done once a month as an extravagant expense, one that was not required. But Coriolanus had certain standards that Soarynn had to live up to and he was more than happy to pay for all her beauty treatments as long as he was the one to reap their benefits.

Soarynn got her nails and hair done monthly, not to mention the clothes she had custom-made for her and all the skin treatments she did as well. She was perfect.

Once she sat down in front of her vanity, she carefully applied a bit more powder to her face as the finishing touch for her makeup, not wanting to look like she was trying too hard. Because she wasn't, obviously.

Coriolanus walked in and tore all her pestering thoughts of out her mind the second she laid eyes on her husband. He was entirely too handsome for his own good and he knew it too. He was charming, sophisticated, hard-working, and above all, he was a Snow.

Being a Snow came with certain privileges that not everyone was given. It elevated your status almost to the one that the President possessed. Soarynn had marveled at how differently she was treated once he slipped that wedding ring on her finger. Coriolanus was used to this type of treatment by now but thought it was adorable how she'd reacted at first.

Soarynn was more than used to her new status by now and always expected to be treated with the utmost respect.

He walks over to his side of the closet, pulling open the drawer that holds all of his neckties. Most men in the Capitol are limited to a certain wardrobe. A nice suit, black leather shoes, and a white button-up to go underneath. But Coriolanus managed to spice such a simple formula up with things like neckties and cufflinks and set off quite the trend amongst the elite men.

“What earrings are you wearing tonight darling?”

Soarynn hears him but doesn’t quite register his question as her thoughts begin to creep back into her mind. Why did they even go to these things? Who cared about things like flaunting one’s wealth?

“Darling?”

Soarynn looks up to find Coriolanus standing right in front of her, a concerned look on his face. “Oh. Um, my earrings? I’m not quite sure yet,” she says, turning to face her vanity mirror again, “is there a certain pair you’d like me to wear?”

Soarynn knew her husband all too well to know that he loved getting to decide what she wore. And it helped that he had relatively good fashion sense. “I was thinking…these,” he says, pulling out a red velvet box from his pocket. Soarynn eyes the box through the mirror and her heart beats a bit faster that premice of a gift. When they were dating Coriolanus showered her with gifts and that’s continued throughout their relationship and into their marriage.

Sometimes it was a new handbag, other times it was a shopping spree. Soarynn’s favorite gift had to be her darling cat, Petunia, who Coriolanus claimed looked just like her when he was choosing which kitten to take home. Petunia had been a gift for their one year wedding anniversary and Soarynn adored the cat with all her heart.

“I assume these earrings will match your cufflinks,” Soarynn says playfully, turning and gently taking the box from his large hand, into her small and dainty one. Coriolanus chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, “You know me too well.” She certainly did. Every moment, every breath, every smile and laugh was perfectly curated to please her husband and Soarynn’s husband was always pleased.

Soarynn smiles up at him before opening the box and she lets out a soft gasp. The earrings are beautiful. It looks as if a gold wire has been fashioned around itself over and over again until it was large enough to hold the large-looking pearl that hangs from the gold wiring. It’s stunning, really.

Soarynn runs her fingers over the jewelry, “Oh, it’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”

Coriolanus places his hand on the top of her head, smoothing her hair down, “Well I’ve been more than pleased with you lately, and good behavior ought to be rewarded where I’m concerned.” The comment isn’t lost on Soarynn, that she’s been well-behaved. He could’ve said that it was a token of his affection or that he simply thought of her when he saw the earrings but he didn’t.

He bought them because she was well-behaved.

And she knew that her husband loved her. He said it at the altar, in front of friends and family, and he said it when they were alone. But did he mean it? Did she mean it when she said it to him? Perhaps they were more in love with the ideas of each other rather than the actual person.

Still, she can't afford to linger in her pessimistic thoughts right now, not when they have somewhere to be. Coriolanus hates being late.

꧁ ꧂

"I honestly don't know what he expects," Livia says with a sigh, her red-colored lips turned down in a slight frown, "it's not like I don't want children. And yet Urban seems adamant on placing all the blame onto me." Soarynn nods as she listens to one of her good friends speak about her problems with getting pregnant. Livia Cardew married Ubran Canville two months before Soarynn married Coriolanus and they've been trying for a baby for quite some time.

Soarynn knows that Coriolanus wants children, expects children. But not right now. He'd even shut her down when she had asked about removing her birth control implant before their wedding day. "I can't afford any unwanted surprises," he had told her. Still, she'd love to have a child of her own someday and Livia does as well. "It's not your fault Liv," Soarynn says softly, "he's simply upset. You both are."

Her eyes travel along Heavensbee Hall until they settle on her husband, standing tall among the other Capitol elite men. It seems he's already been watching her because her blue-gray eyes meet his piercing blue ones for a moment before he looks back at Festus Creed, a close friend and associate of his.

"Well it's not about him, now is it?" Livia snaps, the alcohol making her tongue all too loose. Soarynn only drank socially and she made sure to keep a watchful eye on the level of her consumption through the night. She wouldn't want to embarrass her husband with a drunken scene.

Soarynn sighs and shakes her head, "No, I suppose it isn't about him. But do be patient, these things take time you know." Livia hummed but didn't seem too convinced, thankfully, the announcement was made that dinner was ready to be served. Soarynn was quick to find Coriolanus who placed a hand on the small of her back as they found their seats and then pulled out her chair for her. "Thank you," she says sweetly, watching as he takes his own seat.

He nods, "Of course darling. And have I told you how wonderful your hair looks tonight?" Soarynn is practically glowing from his words of praise. She'd gotten her hair done three days ago and it looked perfect. It was just the right length, color, and shine for a Capitol lady like her. "No, but you do seem keen on flattering me tonight," she teases, placing a hand on his knee. Coriolanus shoots her a grin before their attention is brought to Hilarius, their gracious host who is standing up to make a toast.

"Family and friends," he says, raising his glass, "tonight serves as another reminder of who we are. The best of Panem." A grumble of agreement passes through the room, everyone in this room is here for a reason. Because they're the elite, on top. "There's no other way I would want to celebrate another successful year of the Hunger Games than with the best company Panem can provide. To the Hunger Games." Soarynn repeats the phrase as she lifts her own glass up although the sentiment is slightly lost on her. She doesn't really care for the Games the way that others do.

Dinner is brought out in several courses and Soarynn remains ever delightful and polite whilst talking to those around her. "Did you see the girl Tribute from District Three?" Clemensia asks Soarynn as she cuts into her food. Soarynn shakes her head, "I don't believe I caught a good glimpse of her. Why? Was she offputting?" Most children from the Districts came to the Capitol covered in dirt and ridden with diseases. That's why they were kept in the money pen at the zoo.

Clemensia scoffs and puts down her fork and knife before she leans towards Soarynn from across the table, "Worse than that. She was actually somewhat attractive! If she was given the proper styling then she could've passed for a middle-class Capitol citizen." Soarynn furrows her eyebrows at that claim, and it's a rather bold claim in her opinion. Soarynn clears her throat, "Well, I'll have to watch back and see what she looked like."

The grin on Festus Creed's face lets Soarynn know that she's in for a rather vulgar set of words about this Tribute. "She made me want to hop into the arena for a few minutes," he jokes, pulling some laughs from the men around them. Including Coriolanus. Soarynn eyes him but says nothing, it's not the right place or time. "She was rather attractive," Coriolanus admits before taking a sip of his wine, "but looking like a heap of bones certainly wasn't helping her chances."

While Soarynn won't say anything, she can always count on Livia to speak up and she does without fail. "You do realize that you're talking about a child right? And one from the Districts no less." Festus rolls his eyes and shoots Urban a look, "Perhaps you aren't used to the way men talk when women aren't present Livia, but this is skimming the surface of the topics we discuss when we're alone." Soarynn frowns and sets down her cutlery, no longer hungry.

Does Coriolanus talk about her this way? Or other women for that matter?

She's done everything right to keep him interested, to keep him happy. Is it not enough?

꧁ ꧂

"You always know how to make my good nights a great night darling," Coriolanus grunts as he thrusts into her again. Soarynn gasps and her back arches off their bed, her nails digging into his shoulders, "Thank you," she whispers. He'd been in a great mood after the party, probably because he spent the majority of it talking about the attractive qualities of other women. Soarynn had smiled through the entire ordeal, her professor's words ringing through her head, "The most attractive thing about a woman is her smile."

She held onto those words like a lifeline tonight, desperately attempting to stay above the water. While the men openly discussed women's bodies, how they wanted them to look, to act, Soarynn was the quiet and obedient wife her husband always expected her to be. She was perfect even though it killed her inside.

She can feel his thrusts beginning to grow more erratic and she knows he's close, "Fuck," he grits out, his hands squeezing her hips tighter than before, "your cunt does it for me every time Soarynn." Soarynn lets out a whimper and it's not from pleasure as he husband finishes inside of her. Normally, she loves it when they have sex, when he finishes inside of her and says all sorts of things to her in the heat of the moment. But not tonight.

Coriolanus pants above her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Let me finish you off." Soarynn is quick to shake her head and plaster on another smile, "It's alright," she tells him, "I think I'd rather just wash off and go to bed." Coriolanus has always been a good lover in the bedroom, making sure that she always reached her peak as well but she's not in the mood to be touched and manipulated tonight by his fingers or his cock.

He frowns and gently cups her face in his hand, "Is everything alright? Did I hurt you?" Soarynn sighs and shakes her head again, "No, everything was perfect as always. I'm just a bit tired is all." That seems to be enough to convince him because he nods and helps her into the bathroom where they shower together, washing the day off of them. "Livia certainly has a mouth on her," Coriolanus mumbles as he wraps his arms around Soarynn, resting his head on her shoulder. Soarynn hums and watches the water wash down the drain, "She's just more outspoken than other women." She's dealt with enough beratement of women tonight and she won't see one of her good friends fall victim to it as well.

His hands splay out across her stomach, "Makes me glad you know how to behave. I bet Urban set her straight the second they got into the car. I can't imagine having to deal with that behavior on a daily basis." Soarynn pales at the words he so carelessly uses when talking about another human being. Rarely does Soarynn ever get snippy or bratty with Coriolanus, and when she does he's quick to put her back in her place. "Well it's a good thing we get along so well," Soarynn says softly, her stomach now in knots. Coriolanus presses a kiss to her neck, "My thoughts exactly darling."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn dreams that she's a Tribute in the arena.

It's down to her and that girl from District Three that the men wouldn't stop talking about. Clemensia was right, she's quite pretty all things considered. Both girls are battered and bruised and Soarynn can hear the crowd screaming out for them to finish each other off. She looks up at the crowd and spots Coriolanus along with several of their friends, all their gazes scrutinizing as they look down at her and her current state. Her bottom lip quivers as she realizes that she's been reduced to the likes of a District citizen and all for their entertainment.

"Well," the girl calls out, a spear in her hand, covered in blood, "it's just you and me then." Soarynn frowns and looks back up at Coriolanus. Why isn't he helping her?

The girl notices him in the crowd as well and she laughs. She laughs so hard that she begins to cough up blood, "He...he doesn't care about you," she wheezes. Soarynn shakes her head, her fingers tightening around her own bloody spear, "You're lying. He's my husband." The girl tilts her head and a cruel smile spreads across her dirty face, "Then why are you in here and not up there with him?"

Soarynn feels her mouth drying as she searches for an answer and the girl nods, "See? You're just entertainment for him, something to show off and fuck whenever he's bored." Soarynn shakes her head fervently, "No I'm not. He loves me." The crowd grows louder and louder, eager for bloodshed. "Get on with it!" Someone shouts, "Prove your worth you dirty girl!" Soarynn doesn't know who they're talking to but it spurs her into action and she takes off running towards the girl. Their spears clash against each other as they fight to the death. Soarynn shoves her spear harder and throws the girl off balance.

"KILL HER!" The crowd screams.

Soarynn pulls her spear back and runs it through the girl's abdomen, watching her fall to her knees before she falls over. Soarynn pants as she looks up at the crowd, for Coriolanus and his nod of approval but instead finds him laughing, mocking her. "The winner of the Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow's wife," the announcer's voice booms throughout the arena as the crowd cheers.

Soarynn falls to her knees, was that all she was? His wife? She just won the Hunger Games and yet Coriolanus was given more credit than she was. The girl coughs up some more blood as the life slowly fades from her eyes, "I told you so," she whispers before she takes her last breath.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn wakes up with a gasp, clutching the sheets as she looks around the dark bedroom. Coriolanus is sound asleep next to her, not a care in the world. Soarynn feels sick like she might throw up. She hasn't had a dream like that ever in her life but she feels horrible. It felt so real.

She thinks about waking up Coriolanus, asking for words of comfort and kisses and hugs but she decides against it. He'd only tell her what she wants to hear before rolling over and going back to sleep.

A single tear falls down Soarynn's face as reality begins to hit her. Whether in the Capitol or the arena, she's only of value as long as she belongs to him. As long as she's his wife.

With her head in her hands, she's nothing more than his wife.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #slaymitchabernathy #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #soarynn snow #coriolanus smut #staywithmealways #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x soarynn #coriolanus imagine #original character #coriolanus fic #coriolanus oneshot #coriolanus x oc #oneshot #oc #stay with me always

[bambamramfan]

Discourse knows, there have been too many articles in the UMC publications about polyamory, and I apologize for adding to the bonfire of think pieces. At least this one linked above is less obnoxious than most of them.

(The most obnoxious one is referenced in this article, the Atlantic piece saying that polyamory is bourgeois identity politics distracting from material change.)

And what gets me is that for a bunch of supposed Marxists decrying how polyamory is just cultural superficiality irrelevant to the superstructure of material conditions.... none of them can bother to write a Marxist analysis of polyamory! It's just throwing different names at each other, no discussion of material incentives.

And it's so fucking easy to write one, isn't it. Here's our starting points:

Marriage (and the relationship models that lead to it) is an economic institution.

The change in modern polyamory fads is, like most fashion, coming from the upper-class.[1]

I think we can all agree on these basic premises, and they provide a great deal of grist for economic analysis.

For instance, the middle class in America is falling apart. Especially if you are a recent college graduate. It's easy to get an internship that might be on track to a very lucrative career, especially in a big city. It's a lot harder to start a stable middle-class job somewhere between the coasts. So you can't really start planning for baby until you're 30 and after 5 different careers you maybe have one that will last more than a year, and can put a down payment on a home at maybe 35. (Housing costs rising, especially in cities, has really exacerbated that.

Does this apply to everyone? No. Does it apply to more people that in the past? Big yeah. So, what does a young educated something do in their twenties and early thirties?

But the upper class - I suppose we are supposed to say upper middle class, but c'mon programmer earning $250k you're fooling no one - is booming. It's easier to enter it, especially if you're smart, than ever (note that increasing from 1% mobility to 10% mobility is a big change, even if on the absolute scale it's still unfair.)

Polyamory - or extramarital sex - has always been popular among the rich. Because marriage isn't really an economic necessity for them. If a couple splits, well there's enough money to go around for all the kids to live in nice houses. Mormon bigamy flourishes when a male breadwinner is so ultra-successful they can support for 5 wives, and geek group poly houses flourish when one systems engineer can pay for the whole house on their own too (maybe there's one kid everyone chips in babycare for in the house, but no one is even thinking about enough children in the group house for a fertility rate close to 1:1.)

So if you cut out the ladder from the middle-class-monogamy path, and widen the highway for upper-class-laissez-faire-culture, then cultural norms are gonna flow from the former to the latter.

The thing about relationship norms that makes the change really noticeable is their NETWORK EFFECTS. Being the only polyamorous person in a monogamous community is basically irrelevant, right? Who you gonna date? Similarly if you are in an entirely polyamorous community, my sympathies if you happen to be monogamous and so everyone you want to date has incompatible norms.

But once you start getting away from the edges, they S-curve up real fast because there's finally the option to try the minority relationship style, and for the agnostics who are okay poly or mono, they start seeing people they think are cute in the other camp, and hey, why not try it out.

So combine the collapse of the middle class, the proliferation of upper class hedonism, and network effects and a poly-explosion seems almost inevitable, doesn't it?

...

Of course, I haven't presented any hard evidence, this marginal change at most applies to less than double digits percentage of the populace, and this isn't even how the story feels from inside my head (as a poly converted person.)

But it was. At least. An attempt. To do. Materialistic analysis!

Why are all published Marxists so bad at this.

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[1] Polyamory, or extreme family/relationship/household flexibility has always flourished in the underclass. But the NYT isn't going around interviewing trailer parks in Appalachia to ask them about their exciting new lifestyle.

#polyamory