#REALLY FUCKING INTERESTING CHARACTERS. CAN YOU. CAN YOU. CAN Y

[writingcold]

Chapter Eight - Internal flaws and internal conflicts will lead the way

Content Warnings:  I need to put this here - this is a work of fiction. There will be imagery of violence, character deaths, inequities, poverty, heavy angst, and adult sexual situations throughout the story. Please read at your own discretion. All characters are fictional, though some of the big events that are shown are historical, but may not be historically accurate. 

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help as my all mighty beta for this fiction. She listened to me drone on and on about it for months on end. She really took a bullet for this one! She created the banner for this story as well! Also thank you to @katuschka for her amazing skills in bringing our hero Jakub to life. Divider art by @ firefly-graphics.

The Dead

Jake X Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight word count: approximately 6000 words

Warnings in this part: Sibling arguing, feelings of self doubt, grief.

Chapter 8.1: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “Spill it,” Owen said as he stared directly into his phone.

      Fighting the urge to laugh, I found distraction in yanking the pan of eggs from the stove before they burned. “Spill what?”

      “Gran says that you’re still in Frankenmuth.”

      I nodded as I plated up my breakfast. “So?”

     “I don’t know when the last time you were in a single place that long just to do research,” he jabbed. “If you wanted a dude in lederhosen, I could’ve flown you here to-”

     I grumbled, bobbling my plate and coffee to the table away from the phone. “It’s just more than I planned on. That’s all.”

     “Still not talking about the story is what is bothering me,” he admitted, turning back to the screen just as I returned to grab my phone from the counter. “Typically you’re done with research and writing by now. How interesting can that touristscape be?”

      I rolled my eyes and moved the topic away from me but it boomeranged back within minutes.

     “What about that literacy bit you have - isn’t that coming up?” 

     Eating slowly, I explained how the conference would traverse across three days and many state-based authors and educators of all levels teaming up for more impactful and meaningful methods of catching the interest of kids and adults …

      “Stop,” he growled as I finally hit the bored button. A twinkle in his eye caught me off guard as he leaned in close. “You gonna take the cute pilot to the conference?”

     I blinked. I blinked again as my brother’s grin grew smug. “Pardon?”

     “The pilot? Maybe he can fly you two out and then-”

     “Owen,” I tried to break in, but he continued to ramble. He spoke unabashedly. “Owen, please.”

     “Come on, Y/n,” he jabbed. “He’s a good looking guy. How could you not-”

     “I’m hanging up.”

     “No! What the hell is going on?”

     “Don’t want to talk about it.”

     He sat back in his chair. When I finally looked at the screen and took in his expression, I knew he got it. Maybe.

     “Since when?”

     “Since when, what?” I dodged.

     “You’re not seeing that guy.”

     “Well, since it wasn’t anything but fun anyway-”

     “Jesus,” he huffed. He did not bother to wait for my response. “When are you gonna give this up and take meeting someone seriously?”

     “Maybe when you-”

     “Dumbest argument ever.” He flipped me off and my jaw dropped. “I at least got married. Divorced, yeah. But I was married and loved it, remember? You won’t even try for fuck’s sake.”

     “I’m just saving a whole lot of trouble for someone.”

     “Bull shit.”

      “You’re not my therapist.”

      “Considering you don’t have a therapist, I kinda am, sis.”

      “Owen, let it drop.”

      His eyes pierced the screen and hit mine and my cheeks colored all the more. It was the same look mom would deal out when we were caught avoiding chores or doing something naughty.

      “I just want you to be happy.”

      “I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

      “No, but you sure as shit deserve to be happier.” He fell quiet and I picked at a bit of dry skin on my palm. “I know this year is hard. Shit, every year has been hard.”

      I swallowed. He looped us back to a conversation from my prior year’s birthday. I had officially out-lived my mother. To think that by the time she was thirty two, Corrine had lived her whole life. The notion made all the bruises of losing her and Dad all the more fresh. Grief is strange that way. Loss does not get easier as the years pass. It doesn’t heal. No. Those are the kind of wounds that are permanent. They rear up every day and your brain just puts the pain into a box with a lid and a label to remind you. But it never goes away. Owen was the only one who knew who Mom and Dad were for us. Gran might have been her mother, but Corrine was our mom. That kind of permanence doesn’t go away. Not ever.

      Feeling wrung out and done, I told my brother that I loved him and would talk with him in a few days. Upset was not the right word. It was easy to brush others off as just not understanding the situation. With Owen, hiding was not an option. What was an option was to shove the whole conversation to the side and ignore it for a few blissful hours to focus on research. 

     “Fuck,” I sighed as I looked at my scattered pile of notebooks and the singular tab that was open on the laptop. 

     What was there really to research? I had followed the thread of Jake Thomas and of Yakov Petrov to its end. Whoever the hell it actually was in that cemetery was just as elusive as the story itself. Was there a pirate? Yup. Was there a love story right out front and center? Yes. It hurt my head all the more that both were dead and stuck in a cemetery trying to figure out how to ‘move on’ but not leave each other.

      “God, this sucks balls,” I griped.

      How dramatic would it be to torch a manuscript? Would it hurt? Would I laugh maniacally as I dropped it page by page into the open flame? Or perhaps let it spoil in the rain. Ah, even better - cast it to the wind off some mountain would be delightful, I would imagine. The writers of old must have relished in the self murder of their work, unlike what it takes today. Striking a simple delete key does not seem to have the same killing stroke.

     My vibe must’ve been casting a bat signal as a text came through from Vin, scheduling a check in in a few days. I grimaced. I was going to have to get my shit together and make my story the best ever gothic pirate romance. Fuck my life. In truth, I was at a dead end. No pun intended, of course. Guitar Jake or Yakov the Artist. There was no real way to incorporate them in the story either. Maybe they could be side characters? The dynamic could add to a comedic element. Twentieth century hedonist rock star meets nineteenth century hedonist artist from deep in his own family tree…

     “I have officially lost my shit,” I muttered as I made myself move away from my perch at the table.

     Truth be told, if my research was complete, there was no reason to stay in Frankenmuth - was there? The idea seemed wrong. The thought was frayed at the ends like it was trying to stop me from leaving. I melted into the soft cushions of the sofa. Funny idea that was - but why? My fingers found the comfort of the tangled, corded fringe of a pillow as my mind began to drift.

⭒☾   I smoothed the scratchy lace down across the bodice of the dress. The pit of my stomach bristled with opposition. I did not need another party. I did not need to dance and smile and laugh falsely. I did not need to breathe in smoke and the same conversations over yet again. I wanted to lay with my Jakub and feel his warmth around me. I wanted to read to him and him to me and listen to his breathing with the crash on the velvet shore as the sun cast its last rays to the sky. I wanted to feel his strength and bask in the heat of us.

      However, there I was, walking down the grand stairs, eyes cast to me as if I were some entity to be in awe of. Father was clapping his hands and his voice was booming across the house guests in a tone of celebration. The players began to draw their bows across their strings in a lively jig that tugged the gathering to the wide planks of the ballroom. I blew out a breath that was sour as I cast a wary eye at the backs of my guests. I took refuge with my lovely sister-in-law, Celeste, in the sitting room where voices were hushed and tempers were placid. Somehow, she had hidden a tiny book of sonnets in the folds of her skirts. We read together and kept out the voices of those around us. 

      “Have you seen him? Has he been here to call upon you?” she whispered, her voice full of conspiracy wrapped in grace.

      I nodded as I turned the page. “Been here two days and every moment he can, he is here.”

      “I thought I had caught a glimpse of him on the beach when Astrid and I were at the market this morn,” she said. Her smile was dreamy as she leaned into me. “He’s so handsome. If all you say is true, Maéva, he is a good man that you love.”

      The words shivered across my skin and tingled in my breath. Celeste was my only confidant. She was the only one that knew of how my heart fluttered and my smile sparkled any time my Jakub was near. She was the only one I knew would not cast judgment to his station in this world, as she herself was the daughter of a stablemaster. And she was just as giddy as me when it came to my tales of how we would dance in the tide as it tumbled ashore, or the little trinkets that he would bring to me from his ports of call. She would swoon just as much as I would over the pretty little rock or the pressed flower that would remind him of something I wore or made him feel.

     “Dance with me.”

      I looked up to find Matthias hovering above me, his hand, although turned up for me to take, was kept against his hip bone. I did not like his face. There was a darkness about him that he did not shake, nor did he try to truly hide. His status as a future viscount was his bank that he had overdrawn upon to make himself elevated over the rest of us. We all knew why the viscount had brought his family to this place - he was poorer than those that made their way on the beaches and on the ships of the harbor. He only presented lavishness and superiority due to the blood in his veins. Looking into his dead eyes and his flat mouth, I made my apologies that I was not well enough to dance. Celeste slid her fingers through mine to hold me close.

      “I am sorry, sir,” she said as if her tone was filled with silk. “But our Maéva feels a fever coming upon her-”

      He reached for our joined hands and separated us. “She looks plenty strong enough.”

      I searched for my father, but he was too busy clapping Matthias on with encouragement that I knew any argument would be for not. The anger toiled under my breath as I voided my expression. One dance. And then I could build upon Celeste’s fever fib. My eyes stared forward while my feet and frame moved in time with the players. I imagined my Jakub, dressed in the fine fabrics that Matthias wore, showing off the strong body and grace he had been blessed with. I saw him with his hair drawn back and his hands polished. But that was not him. No. My Jakub was wind blown and wild and hardened by work. His mind was open and his words were shaped by his experiences. That was the man I loved. Threadbare and hungry.

      Father and the viscount were close, talking with wide smiles. Their words were fast and glib looking. Father’s excitement was palpable. His hands were like two excited birds flitting around him. I gave the man I danced with no satisfaction of words. But then he gave me only silence anyway. It was as if he and I were in unvoiced agreement to pacify the patriarchs that were obviously so much more aflutter over our nearness. Soured thoughts were bending the joyful notes that filled my ears. Each face that I looked upon held anticipation and cheer. Anxiety stabbed at my feet. My limbs turned heavy as I turned away from him to give me some distance from his nearness. Celeste hurried towards me, her pretty face stretched with concern.

      “Come. The air grows too close for us here,” she was saying as Matthias reached to catch my shoulder.

      “They expect us to dance, madam,” he said, voice icy and hand heavy on my skin.

      “They can be disappointed then,” she remarked.

       My feet fumbled forward. I was thankful for the full skirt to hide such ungainly steps. My breath felt hot in my mouth and my stomach lurched. Everything felt woozy as Celeste maneuvered us through the tangle of guests. I wanted my rooms, but instead, she drew me to the parlor where she could shut away the eyes and wagging tongues but get me to sit.  

      “You do have a fever,” she said as she cast the window open.

      “No,” I said, wiping at my mouth. “I was just faint. Perhaps his sickish perfume was too close to my nose.”

      “He really is a brute. I heard Abel saying some rather unkind statements about that one.” She was pouring a few drops of wine into a tiny glass as I tried to compose myself. “We can hide here for a while. I’m sure Papa will be on the hunt for us, but I say let him hunt. I do not trust him when he is with the viscount. He changes when that man is near.”

      She was correct. Father changed in the face of bred privilege. My soul quivered across the notion. My father’s intentions were becoming very clear. It sickened me. I wondered if they were in negotiations for my hand already, or perhaps still in the discovery phase like two dogs, sniffing at each other to see if the carcass of the other was willing to submit. Tears prickled at my eyes at the thought. I had no control over this and it was as if I was a prized bitch looking to be sold. Celeste took to my side, but I could not be consoled. I wanted my Jakub. Such a simple dream to love him and be with him… ☾

      My lungs burned like I had been under water too long. I sputtered and coughed through emotions as I pushed away from the couch. I was crying. My cheeks felt hot and sticky and wet with strangled cries that I had just been having in my dream-state. I was quick to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water to cool the effects. The dreams were getting harder to take. I had tried to write them down as is, but they were like smoke through my brain, too thin and elusive to really record. Although, I was discovering that elements of these pieces were landing more often into the story. Spooky. It was the sense of my brain leaking out uncontrollably onto the proverbial page that bothered me more than the gothic pirate love story as a whole.

     I needed out of the rental for a bit. It was too late for lunch, but early supper wasn’t a horrible thing. Deciding on the diner, I packed up my bag and thought perhaps I could tuck into a corner and proof the last few pages over coffee and sandwich without having to hog a booth or table during a rush. I was correct that it was not busy, but there was a rather large, loud group that had pushed six tables together in the middle to accommodate their numbers. By the look of it, it was a men’s group that was meeting for their afternoon dose of gossip.

      I slid into the booth that the server had waved me to. My eyes rolled closed over the first sip of steaming coffee. God that was good. I tucked behind the laptop, fighting to keep my expression blank as I read over the squishy words that I was daring to call worthy of a story. I sat back as the server returned to take my order. As I handed her the menu, I noticed a set of eyes I had seen before - faded blue jean colored and a very sun weathered smile met my gaze. I grinned at the kind man from the park who had been working.

     Dinner finished, and some hot gossip taken in with hearty laughter, I decided to walk through the park by the library, and perhaps step foot inside as it had been a few days since I had looked across the books and care that Becca and the others had helped me through. Stopping at the florist, I purchased a few large plants to take along in thanks. It would be my first step in severing the connection here. I owed them so much, even if it did not amount to what I would really be using in the story. 

      “I come bearing gifts,” I announced as I struggled through the door.

     Becca was quick to help. “Oh, these are lovely.”

     “I thought a little more green in here would keep you bright,” I said, smiling across the wide range of plants and live displays that would carry the library through the winter.

     I helped her put them close to the windows by my workstation. I grinned as I looked at her. “I’m afraid I’m nearing the end of my stay,” I admitted, my fingers drifting across the huge binding of the newspapers.

     She smiled. “You’ve found what you’ve come for.”

     I nodded, though reluctance swam across my heart. “I believe that I have. You have been so good to me here.”

     Emotional outburst aside, it was going better than I planned. We chatted a bit before I set into the books that had become the path of my story that made my fingers itch, despite not really liking the plot. Perhaps I will settle into it at some point. 

      “Oh my goodness,” Becca exclaimed from behind the glass of the back office. 

      I was not the only one to sit up, prairie dog style looking for the source of upset. She was making her way towards me with a look that might have been inspiration. I glanced around to find that other patrons were just as puzzled as I was.

      “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, Y/n,” she proclaimed as she had eyes cast down on her phone, scrolling. “What was I thinking? Or… well. Not thinking is more like it.”

      “Uh, wanna catch me up here, Becca? I’m not from here, remember,” I laughed at her flustered state, sure she was thinking full sentences, but what was coming out made no sense.

      She grinned as she waved at me. Her exuberance washed over me and it was hard not to get caught up in it, even though I had no idea what was going on. “I have someone I need you to meet.”

Chapter 8.2: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “We need to run.”

     The words blazed in my thoughts as I watched the creature rise from my grave once more. I had come to the decision that this feminine form could not be Maéva. If the memories that had been shown to me thus far were true, then this thing could not be her. If this thing were my soulmate, there would be no hesitation within and know me for what I am - hers. And the truth would be the same for me, but all I could feel towards it was… curiosity. Perhaps anger. Jealousy, even. How such a creature could be doomed to repeat or seem to repeat the same construct of a path over and over without meaning…  Wait. What am I if that road of thought were true?  What am I in this half existence but the same as the creature - am I nothing more than goo from the ether that has been chained to a strip of ground because of some man’s greed and foul nature? For lack of a better phrase, I closed my being off from the lights of the world as the creature slipped away once more. Could something such as myself be petulant? The stray thought struck as the gate whined to its closed position.

     “We need to leave.”

     Her hands were shaking against my chest. Whatever had happened had just occurred. She had run to me still dressed in her fine cream and olive green gown. The lace puckered and draped across her breasts and dripped from her shoulders. I could not stop myself from dragging my fingers across her collarbones and up along her graceful neck. I tried to soothe her with my words and touch and kisses, but she whipped herself away from me.

     “Jakub!” she cried, her delicate fingers tucking into tight fists.

     “Just tell me then what has happened,” I said, unable to keep the edge of impatience from my tone.

     She withdrew a few steps. Her features slacked with an expression that made me quiet. “I am to marry.”

     The bottom of my very shallow world fell away. I could not understand her words that she continued to speak. Every bit of me was frozen on the notion that she was meant for another.

     “Jakub,” she whispered.

      I kissed her. It was all I could do. Our dream was to be severed. I pressed my fingertips into the plump of her blurred out cheek and the hardness of her back as if I could force her to be part of me through this mourning. She reeled back from me with a frustrated cry.

      My thoughts thinned and I found myself kneeling, hands dug into the darkness of the dirt. I begged the cosmos to allow me to see her - to see my Maéva. To know her features, her expressions, her… her soul and how it resided in her eyes. I could feel her innocence. I could feel her goodness. It danced across my fabric. But to just glimpse her eyes and know her. My chin tipped and I looked into the velvet of the night sky and the swirl of songs and begged for that scrap of memory.

      “No- no, Jakub,” she stammered. “We can leave this place - together. We can go to the east! We can build our lives there!”

     “Maéva, you don’t know what it’s like-”

     The sound she made hit me. I had insulted her.

     “I don’t know what? How to live without my family? Or do you mean to say I do not know how to live without my family’s wealth?”

     I felt a sigh bubble through my chest. “You don’t know what it truly means to be cold or hungry. Despair is not what I ever want for you.”

     “If it means we are together, I would gladly show you what strength lies in these bones of mine.” 

     She was so resolute. So sure of herself. It was the trappings of her always having what she needed that gave her that kind of confidence. I felt small for these thoughts. She possessed such knowledge, such a drive to learn - but this. What she was asking would take away the shelter that allowed her to thrive in that world.

     “Jakub - you could learn to farm, or build ships or apprentice in some other trade,” she was explaining. “And I could teach!”

     “Teach?”

     “I taught you. Surely there is no other more stubborn student!” Her laugh was pulling at my resolve. “Or I can learn to be a clerk, or even farm at your side if you are willing to have me.”

     She was reaching for me once more and I could not keep my hands from passing across the fine fabric that held a menagerie of flowers and moths and swirls of colors that I could’ve studied for days to pick out all of the finer details. She knew there was nothing I would not do for her. But this - to just run. To leave them all behind and live in this world together - as equals.

      “My mother,” I whispered into her hair.

     “Of course we will bring her,” she said without hesitation.

     Her exuberance was hard not to purchase in to.

     “You have been to Boston and New York. We can make our life there. We could be free there,” she continued on.

     I paused, knowing that no ship would be leaving any time soon. “When does your father expect this wedding?”

     “June.”

     The lake ice would have the harbor locked up for a few more weeks. If LaBeau was willing to wait to give his daughter away, that gave us the opportunity to book passage. My purse was too light to do this - to make our escape. I was already a beggar. How was I to do this without coin, without…

      She kissed me and led my hands against her fine dress. She was shivering with cold. I folded her close knowing that I needed to return her to the cage of her rooms - at least for now. I wrapped my coat around her, the bite of cold nipped at me but she allowed me to hold her close as we began to walk. Maéva was like a bird, chirping out plans and flittering with excitement. 

     The doubt attacked in the silence of my brain once it was alone. How could I care for her? Surely she would come to regret stepping so willingly into the depths of poverty and find her love turning to resentment when the realization came that her belly was empty and her body exposed to the true harshness of this world. To know that she would willingly walk into the sheer unknown only because she loved me, set my brain on needles with thoughts of unsureness. She trusted that I would provide what I could and in trade she would care for me. Though these lands of the new world were framed as obtainable dreams, that was still only true for those of wealth. Maéva would grow tired of the scrabble to just survive on the daily means of hard labor. Perhaps I should walk away and let her to her path of husband and titles and …

      My gaze turned to the way the tops of the trees bent under the angry gust of wind. It matched my own thoughts. I had entertained leaving her behind? I wanted to leave her to a fate chosen by her father? If an entity such as myself could feel shame, I am sure I was feeling it the only way I knew how. The waves of color that thundered around me, billowing into storm clouds, were gathering to punish me. Fun was on them - apparently all of this was punishment across all time.

     I had watched the ice slowly crush against the shore. Maéva fought with me to take her purse and purchase three tickets on the first ship that could carry us east. It was going to be hard enough to try to get her aboard without recognition, but to be forced to use her own money - it was not the start to our lives that I wanted and it bruised my ego in a way that was difficult to swallow. After years of watching my mother struggle to keep us alive, then adding my hands to the work, it was beyond hard to take her money, no matter the cause. I had fought my way through this life. I would fight my way to get away with her, even if it meant I had to take her as a married woman - take her from that rogue of a man her father deemed better.

     It was bitter. My need to stand in our way because of some perceived notion that I had to be a man for her was dragging upon us, threatening the tender thread of a chance that waited for us. What a fool I was.

     Another grand ball celebrating the engagement roused me from my sulking, for that was what I really was doing - acting like a child who had been scolded and paddled. I snuck up onto the side patio, staying to the shadows with my eyes searching for Maéva. There were musicians playing and people moving around with huge smiles that oozed privilege. I saw LaBeau waving his arms around and acting like he was the rooster on the field while his daughter stood at another man’s side. I hated it - the sight of that man, that Matthias, being so close to her made a rage boil in my belly that I could not tolerate. 

     Their hands met and he guided her through a dance that made the guests of the party clap their hands and smile their most beautiful smiles. No smile was upon Maéva’s mouth, however. Quite the opposite. What more, Matthias mirrored her hard expression. I watched as she turned, full of grace, full of beauty while her father beamed in his greed and lust for title for the family. And the man who was equally bright - that must have been the viscount. He was practically leering over the merchant’s purse that swung so heavy at his side and dripped from the walls of his marvelous manor house. They were the mechanism that drove this union, surely.

     I caught Maéva’s eye, but withdrew deeper into the shadows. Amongst the smiles and delicate music, I solidified my presence as an outlier. I would free her from this fate that her father wanted more for himself than for her. To know that he would damn her for a few scraps of veneration was sickening. Was his wealth not enough, must he really have a title to put before his name as well? 

     Pathetic.

     The veil of clouds streaked across the velvet of night, curling and swirling through the air like the smoke from Monsieur LaBeau’s fine pipe. I could feel the anger I had felt across the expanse of time. If that was a lesson that I needed to learn from, then in my stubbornness, I never learned to let that malice subside. I could feel it still bubble and toil on my echoed thoughts.

     I stole away from the manor house like a stray cat turned away from its supper. I lingered on the edges of the beach, not wanting to be seen by anyone for fear of seeing the toil of my struggle over her. I had sequestered her coins under the floor of my bed. I would collect those coins and find a ship to the east coast. It would be easier to hide in a city. Perhaps we could get to Savannah. I had listened to a fellow deck hand ramble for hours about the warmth and wild beauty of the near tropical port. Or maybe Philadelphia. There were many, many people there making hiding amongst them easier.

     I knew she would be in the market the following day with her matron. We’d found it easy enough for me to shadow her for a chance to talk. It was always near the baker when Leila would have her attention pulled enough away from her charge that we could sneak away for long enough for the woman to take no notice. The morning found me lingering amongst the fringes of the market square, my stomach empty. Mother had used the last few coins for medicine for the woman next door. The babe had been sick for days. Mother had been trying to apply the typical remedies, but the fever was slow to break and it was obvious that the child's needs were beyond her hands. She bartered where she could, but when there was nothing left to barter with, she would turn to what her body may earn. I would be sure to beg the stable master and the blacksmith for work, even if it meant for a few scraps to get us through a few days.

      And there it was once more. I hid this from Maéva. This aspect of struggle. I wondered if I did it to protect her or keep her blind? It did not matter. She would hear me once more lay out what was ahead, but I knew in my heart that she would not listen. She would have to learn hunger and need through experience and I would have to keep my tongue about me as she waded through the mire in hopes that she would not wake and realize the horrible mistake that she was making on loving me.

     Close to midday, I was near giving up that she would arrive, and getting more frustrated as I knew I should be finding work for my hands, not standing idle. Finally, she appeared, fresh and bright amongst the damp and dingy pier. I fought my heart from just running to her. How foolish would that be. No. I waited and quietly watched as she looked over the wares she was there to procure for another day in the grand house. Her matron was already looking thin of patience. I wonder if Maéva had deliberately worn her through before even reaching the market for the sole purpose of this visit. I bided my time, moving slowly and making sure to look at the different vendors before stopping once more before the baker’s stall. My stomach stabbed and complained. I was fighting the urge to snatch a lump of bread that had been cut apart and tossed to the side as stale as it was easier to feed it to the birds than a human in need. I dug my fist deeper into my torn pocket in hopes that it would keep me from the easy notion of theft. She approached, relieving my thoughts of my hollow belly.

      “Good day,” she whispered, hiding her mouth in her outstretched arm.

      I smiled and nodded as I looked for the matron. “Talk?”

     I moved away as was our warrant in such affairs. I would find her once more closer to the beach once she was able to slip the eye of Leila. There was a spot under the well trod boards of the pier that was in between the massive pylons where the boulders sheltered the land. I waited, breathing in the soured, fish riddled air. Maéva appeared in all of her faceless brightness, but I could feel her smile radiating off all of her body. It was always the same without fail whenever she came near. I could only imagine what I actually looked like, but on the inside - I swooned over her nearness.

     She took my hand and I leaned in to kiss her mouth, but I stopped before the sweet crush touched my lips. “Will you want to go to Savannah?” I whispered.

     Half of a breath later, her arms were thrown around my neck and her lips to mine with a trill of laughter. I found myself caught up in her exuberance. My love for her was absolutely consuming and yet so strong that I felt as if I could sustain on our love alone.

     Coyotes chirping in the distance drew my eye back to the present. The creature was once again laying upon my grave. It was torture not knowing the significance of this being. Or perhaps it was the anguish of knowing this lingering was my form of purgatory. I was languishing across centuries of time that I should have been with her - with my Maéva. 

Yeah. So where do we go from here? 💚

Tags are in the comments as it seems to work best that way! If you want to be added, let me know.

@edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep  @lvnterninthenight  @katuschka @thewritingbeforesunrise @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @demonrat444 @klarxtr @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @lipstickitty @joshym @itsafullmoon @josh-iamyour-mama @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @way-to-go-lad @jjwasneverhere @gretavangroupie @emojakekiszka @wetkleenex-gvf @vanfleeter @losfacedevil @myownparadise96 @lizzys-sunflower @literal-dead-leaf @musicislove3389 @raceb14

[trans-leek-cookie]

so kusakabe and higuruma Megumi and fucking MEI MEI can survive but Mechamaru Nanako Mimiko and Mai had 2 die. Alright.

[ineffablefool]

The lil corner of the Good Omens fandom that I generally see is getting more and more into publicly declaring that That Theory I Dislike Is Bad And People Who Ascribe To It Should Feel Bad, and I don't know if it's really new, or if I was just lucky enough to generally be missed with that shit the last four years.

Different people's brains work differently, which means they will notice things, form interpretations, maybe come to extremely firm conclusions, all different from each others'. Different from mine, different from yours.

I get that some people think that they have the brain which produces the Objectively Superior theories (and/or which can easily determine which other people's theories are the Objectively Inferior ones). I just really missed the memo where Your Interpretation Is Not My Interpretation (And That's Okay) was dragged out back and fucking shot.

Anyway this blog is an "I may not agree with your theory but you may trust that I won't publicly heap scorn upon the very idea of having it" zone if anyone was wondering.

[tillman]

ive made too many long ass posts about my feelings on this matter to be accused of liking zato one

[minakoaiinos]

Animating this season like you can't have the slightest bit of jest and god forbid jesting about yaoi

[amplexadversary]

I'm really hoping this isn't another case of the english having mastered the art of queerbaiting.

[musical-chick-13]

Daemon literally choked Rhaenyra on the show and not in a kinky way.

I think I vaguely remember hearing about this?

Which is...certainly something in the face of all the "wife guy" jokes I also and more consistently heard about Daemon.

Also certainly something that the consistent violence by men toward women on GoT was (rightfully) criticized, but I haven't seen reams of Discourse™ about this particular ship.

(Also certainly something else that Cersei was always blamed for every single thing in regard to her relationship with Jaime and you never heard the fucking end of it, but whatever Daemon does is fine for some reason? misogyny the reason is misogyny)

And again. People can ship whatever they want. People can like characters who aren't good people. I don't think this ship (i.e. D/R) would be particularly interesting to me (for a variety of reasons), but I'm not going to say that someone is a Horrible Person™ for shipping it. Just don't try to weirdly moralize a dynamic like this by saying that it has no problems? To the point where it's some strange Exception™ to what you would otherwise consider a completely unacceptable thing to explore in fiction? Genuinely, what does that accomplish. It really is just the hypocrisy for me.

You can like a fraught or unhealthy or problematic or [insert similar adjective here] fictional dynamic. I like plenty of those. But I don't understand this trend of going, "Well my preferred type of Dark Fictional Content is acceptable and fine for THESE arbitrary reasons. The rest of you should burn in hell for the Dark Fictional Content YOU enjoy though," and it is starting to get insufferably annoying.

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[thefudge]

Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

[solitairedeere]

i was never as optimistic about the ending of bnha as some villain stans were, but i never thought it'd end so badly it left me wondering why horikoshi ever bothered to humanize the villains or make them complex characters at all.

like-- i expected that at least 1-2 of the 3 villains who were heavily foreshadowed and outlined by the narrative as people to be saved would be, you know, actually saved. i didn't think that was a high bar. i've been let down before in fandoms where everyone was certain a character would live and then they didn't, so i tried to keep my hopes low. AND YET.

what happened to tomura was upsetting, but i wasn't that shocked after how disinterested the manga has seemed to be in him for like, the past 100 or so chapters. a bit surprised, because you'd think if anyone would succeed in the 'saving' mission it would be the MC, but whatever. dabi, well, they've spent a lot of time showing the way his quirk destroys his body even before this arc, so that also sucked but at least it didn't feel completely out of left field.

........but they're not even letting toga live???

i just-- what have we even been doing here? when zero out of the 3 characters that were marked out for saving were actually saved, you have to acknowledge that something has gone seriously fucking wrong with the storytelling. not even just from the perspective of a villain fan but from the perspective of someone who likes stories to be thematically consistent or satisfying in any way.

you can set up an expectation of these characters being saved and then subvert that and turn it into a tragedy- if done well that could even be worthwhile and interesting. but you can't turn it into a tragedy and then just... keep trucking along with the happy ending messaging and act like anything in the manga has been resolved and that the characters have somehow successfully completed their heroic origin stories.

like, maybe i shouldn't have expected this much from a shounen- at the end of the day it is still a shounen so i didn't expect to feel that it truly satisfactorily wrapped up all the themes it brought up around societal ills. but i expected it to at least resolve those things in a shounen-y way where they punch the problems and help these specific people and then you can feel good assuming that the state of things will continue to improve in the post-canon world of the manga.

instead we got... uh, none of that. the story refused to answer a single one of the larger questions it's been outlining for the past 400+ chapters. in the end, it was all flash and no substance, which again could've been fine, if it weren't for the way the story seemed to spend significant chunks of time trying to delude you into thinking it had substance.

truly makes me wonder what horikoshi thought he was doing the entire time. can it really all be blamed on burnout? the most that can be said for this ending is that it is, well, an ending. fuck dude, it is that.

and that's just... such a sad way to end a project that took up 10 years of your life.

[talaok]

i loved the hickey fic🥵

can i request a role reversal fic?

reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to

It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.

But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.

"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.

A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter

"oh my god what happened to your neck?!" 

And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.

"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.

"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.

"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her

She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.

"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"

Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.

"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"

Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.

"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.

"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.

"About what?" Tommy asked

"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"

"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?" 

"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"

"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek

His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.

"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.

And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic

"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"

Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.

"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"

Another pang to his poor heart, 

he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot

what the fuck was happening?

Did she just say-

"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"

"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back 

He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded 

"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"

He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.

And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back

"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.

a hell of a funny one

"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"

[wordsarelife]

—the game

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: after one night with you, mattheo can't help but want more. sadly, you aren't the type for relationships: “that you no longer are, what you used to be, ever since you bared your skin for me”

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex, angst

notes: get ready for angsty and soft mattheo riddle who is an absolute simp for you lmao, very angsty but with a happy ending :)

inspired by ‘the game’ by annett louisan

that you no longer are what you used to be ever since you bared your skin for me

"are you alright?" you were laying on the side, observing mattheo's face. he wasn't looking at you, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

"y-yes" he breathed lowly and for the first time in ever, he didn't seem as cocky and arrogant.

"cool" you shrugged. you were just trying to be nice, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, so his mood wasn't really your problem. you threw back the cover and got out of the bed, tapping across the room to collect your clothes.

"where are you going?" he asked, sitting up. his eyes followed your every move.

"to my room?" you wondered, why he was asking.

"oh" he leaned against the bedframe, taking out a pack of cigarettes. "do you want one?"

"what?" you laughed in disbelief "do i look like a hooker to you?"

"no" he shook his head. you watched him for a few more seconds, before you stepped into your skirt and put your sweater on. "bye, mattheo" you smiled mischievously, before you left the room.

that you′ve lost your head in a single night and you're seeing things in another light

he didn't know yet, but that very night, you left a loneliness in him that he had never felt before. it seemed like ever since he got undressed for you, he wasn't how he used to be.

when you would see him around hogwarts he was often staring at you, thinking.

"you're staring again" theo elbowed mattheo. the classroom was quite big and you were sitting across from him, whispering with your friend.

"huh?" mattheo looked up at theo.

"she might notice" theo reminded "you're not invisible, matt"

"sure" mattheo shrugged his shoulder.

theo was the only one of his friends who had noticed the change in mattheo's character. he was acting unusal, especially because he hadn't hooked up with anyone in the last few weeks. he didn't have the courage to ask him about it yet, but he knew it had something to do with him always staring at you.

mattheo had been interested in sleeping with you for a long time. he had thought just getting it over with would stop his bubbling obsession, but it seemed to have made it worse. he wasn't used to desire someone like that, especially not after he had slept with them.

there was nothing new for him to see and still he wanted to do it again. for him it was like every single girl had suddenly disappeared. there was only you. sitting across from him. in a different light. and that scared him deeply.

during dinner theo had finally stopped making comments. mattheo was thankful for that, but he still tried to stray away from watching you, even if his eyes seemed to automatically find you.

"hey" blaise sat down on the bench in front of mattheo, successfully blocking his sight on you.

"hi" mattheo and theo chorused, before they continued eating. well, theo did, mattheo was just pushing food around on his plate.

"okay" blaise said "what's wrong with you both?"

mattheo send theo a look, who sighed "nothing"

"i should've stayed with pansy and draco" blaise muttered, nodding his head at the two sitting a few spots down. "even if they're hardcore flirting, at least that was some what interesting"

"wohoo!" enzo sat down next to blaise "the party can start!" he announced dramatically. mattheo rolled his eyes at the boy. blaise was annoying on his own, but the combination with enzo was nothing mattheo could take today.

it had been a month without sex and mattheo was feeling the effect.

"are we in a bad mood today?" enzo teased.

"fuck off" mattheo shoved his plate away and crossed his arms, bending his head down.

"hey" a soft voice made the boys look up. you were standing next to mattheo, who quickly scrumbled to his feet.

"hi" he said "how are you?"

"i'm fine" you smiled, sending an irritated look to enzo, whose eyes grew big as he recognized you. "is your friend alright?" you asked mattheo.

mattheo turned around and knew immediately who you were talking about. enzo was flailing his hands dramatically, hitting blaise on the shoulder over and over again, as if that would be enough to transfer his thoughts. "ignore him" mattheo tried his best to smile at you effortlessly, but was nervous about the reason you were talking to him in the first place.

"okay" you stretched, focusing on the boy in front of you again. "you forgot your notebook" you held it in his direction and he tried to hide his disappointment.

"oh" he nodded "thank you" you send him a last smile, before you turned around and walked back to your table

"that was horrible" theo muttered in mattheos direction, when he sat down again. before he could answer anything, enzo broke into a giggle.

"what's going on with you, you moron?" blaise looked at enzo in disgust and slid a bit to the side, rubbing his arm, that was probaly blue now after enzo had hit it multiple times.

"that's the girl!" enzo blabbled "from the party! the one you took back to the dorm!" he pointed his finger at mattheo. it seemed like enzo enjoyed knowing something secretive for the first time. normally he would be the last to hear about his friends flings.

"and?" mattheo shrugged, acting nonchalantly.

"yeah" blaise shrugged "she isn't the first and probably won't be the last, am i right?"

mattheo nodded relucantly and theo wiped his face with one hand, trying to hide his expression.

"hey mattheo" annie, a slytherin mattheo was sitting next to in potions, slid in on the bench next to him. he had been pursuing her for a few weeks, before he had slept with you.

"hi" mattheo replied absentmindedly.

blaise and enzo exchanged a confused look. theo shrugged. and mattheo? he seemed to be utterly uninterested in talking to annie any further. he turned his head away from the girl and she opened her mouth, but before anything could come out of it, blaise entered the non existent conversation.

"i'm good at sex too, sweetheart" he send her a smug smile, followed by a wink, while wiggling his eyebrows.

theo tried to hide his face, ashamed at what his friend was babbling and annie wrinkled her nose, looking at blaise disgusted.

"what?" she asked and then turned to mattheo "aren't you going to say anything?"

mattheo shrugged and took a sip from his water. annie shook her head outraged and got up. "arrogant asshole" she threw her head back and walked off.

that because of me you would leave a love and now I'm all you're dreaming of

"what was that?" enzo asked and even he seemed to be irritated now.

"what do you mean?" mattheo acted like he didn't have a clue what his friend was talking about.

"annie" blaise exclaimed, pointing in the direction the girl had just left. "you wanted to tap that ever since the school year started"

"you just ruined your progress" enzo added.

"i don't care" mattheo got up. his eyes caught yours across the hall. you smiled at him, before you continued your conversation with a boy, mattheo had never seen before, who was obviously flirting with you "i don't want her anymore"

blaise and enzo turned around. blaise clasped a hand over his mouth as soon as he realized what was going on.

"the girl from the party?" enzo asked confused, he was a bit slower.

"y/n" mattheo corrected, burying his hands in the pockets of his trousers

"what about her" blaise elbowed enzo. hard. "ow! blaise!"

"just look at him" theo muttered and mattheo didn't even hear his friends talking anymore. he was too focused on you and that boy, focused how you touched his arm and threw your head back from laughter. a month ago it had been mattheo talking with you like that. now you were the only thing that mattered to him and it seemed he couldn't be more irrelevant to you.

"shit" enzo mumbled as he realized. mattheo took that as his cue to leave and do something about his pathetic situation.

"can we talk?" he asked and you looked up at him confused.

"we're sort of in the middle of something" the unknown boy said. mattheo ignored him, sending you a pleading look.

"sure" you agreed, excusing yourself and following mattheo out of the hall and into an abondened classroom.

"so, what did you want to talk about?" you crossed your arms, leaning you back against one of the tables.

"you're driving me crazy, y/n" he quickly said and you raised your eyebrows. "i can't get you off my mind, ever since that night"

"oh" you simply said "i didn't want to mislead you, mattheo"

that dismal to be when every now and then someone else i′ll see again, it wasn't planned that you now feel like one of many

he sighed, his hand running through his curls. he stepped closer and the worried look on your face was making him go feral, the way you looked up to him through thick lashes, your hair, your smell, everything about you. his hand cupped your cheek softly, his thumb brushing along your lip.

"mattheo" you muttered. you didn't know that he was thinking more of that night "i thought we both agreed that this was just a simple hook up"

"it's not simple anymore" mattheo whispered and his breath fanned over your skin, making you perk up and inch closer. but you had to control yourself. it would be different for you than for him, you didn't want to take advantage of his feelings. "i want you to myself, all of you" he said and confirmed your worries.

"mattheo" you pleaded again. you touched his cheek. and his skin felt like it was burning under your touch. "i don't want to be someone's girlfriend" you muttered and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

"i can't bear to see you with him" he admitted "not with anyone"

"i didn't want you to feel like one of many" you said softly. he let go of your cheek and you took his face in both of your hands. "we can do it again" you looked into his eyes "but it's not like that for me"

"i don't care" mattheo crashed his lips to yours. he lifted you up on the table behind you, deepening the kiss and opening your ponytail with a quick gesture. he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. you stroke his cheek and he smiled, tears shimmering in his eyes. "be mine. just for now"

"okay" you said and you felt worse at the smile that appeared on his face.

he nodded. "okay"

that you fall in love, because we do it. that it affects you so much i did not know that

mattheo climbed on top of you, pushing you down on the table and both of you knew that this was a volatile arrangement. you would keep your promise, but he knew you weren't his. he ignored that as he opened your bra and littered your collarbone with kisses.

you looked up to the ceiling and felt the guilt bubble inside of you. this felt wrong. and you were scared that mattheo was confusing lust with love. after all you weren't the type for relationships and you had thought he wasn't either.

you both parted ways after that night in the classroom. you kept out of his way out of guilt. and he kept away from you in the hope that whatever he was feeling was finally going to disappear.

halloween came and went and mattheo felt himself indulge in meaningless hookups, just like before he had been with you, but it wasn't the same. it felt wrong, like a duty he couldn't fulfill.

you weren't able to forget the feeling of the touch of his skin. the way it burned under your hand. they way nobody elses skin had ever burned under your touch. not like that atleast.

it took less than a week for a note to find you and for you to return to the abandoned classroom during nightfall. it made your heart burn to see him like that. desperate for your warmth. that night he took you out of the castle and while you were laying on the grass and watching his features shine under the stars, you had almost wanted to cry.

the sight of him saddened you and made you wish to give him all he was longing for. but you couldn't and mattheo knew that, but that night you were his for a short time once again.

you decided that this was going to be the last time. you would break it off the next time he would send a note. seeing the hurt in his eyes broke you more and more. especially when he tried to advert his eyes from you around the castle. as if he was constantly telling himself off for liking you the way he did.

leave it be, i can't deal, i have too much respect for how you feel

he was waiting for you when you arrived the next night. the glint of hope, any time you came to your secret meetings made everything so much worse.

"we have to stop doing this" you got right to the point.

mattheo's face fell. "what?"

"this isn't doing you any good" you admitted "i can't bear to hurt you"

"okay" he said "then don't go"

"it will hurt so much more if i don't go now"

he shook his head "you don't know that"

"i do" you assured unwillingly "it's not the same for me, matty"

"you don't feel anything?" he muttered, gently touching your face "does this do nothing to you at all?"

"not in the way you would want" you looked to the ground, trying to avoid his eyes. "i don't do commitment"

mattheo stepped back from you and nodded bitterly. "yeah" he shrugged. "why would you?"

you saw the tears glistening in his eyes. "i have too much respect for you and the way you feel than to play with you like that"

"don't say that" he shook his head and adverted his eyes.

"i'm sorry, matty, i truly am" you tried to grab his hand, but he moved backwards "but what did you expect? i told you the truth from the beginning"

"i know" he pushed his hair back, looking from the ground to your eyes "i thought, maybe, if this was going on for longer, you would eventually like me like that"

this was it. this was the moment your heart broke. he was looking at you and a single tear slipped down his cheek. in that moment you truly regretted ever coming close to him.

"you don't want that" you promised "you don't want to know me in a way that's more than for a night"

"i do" he argued "of course i want that"

"i will just let you down, matty"

"don't be ridiculous" he grabbed your shoulders

"loving me is not easy" you said loudly, trying to escape his hold.

"i know" he admitted "it's fucking hell"

you looked up at him in surprise. "you don't know what you're saying" you turned your body away from him with a sudden movement. "you don't love me. you can't love me"

"you'd be surprised at how much" he said softly. you turned around and looked at his face. you had known that he wanted more from you than you were able to give him.. but love? you had initially thought that whatever it was that made him dream of you, would be forgotten in less than a week. at least that was what had happened with any guy that claimed to like you before.

"i love you" he said, more clearly. "so much"

you couldn't allow yourself to hope. you couldn't take his words seriously. you shook your head and his smile died once again. whatever part of him had hoped to convince you was crashed and burning by now. "it will go away"

he watched in dispair as you silently left the room, without looking at him. he sank down on the table behind him, burying his face in his hands. what he didn't know was that you were doing the exact same right outside the classroom.

the next morning during breakfast you felt burned out by how much you had cried that night. your eyes felt puffy and your voice was hoarse. you ignored the conversations your friends were having around you, even if you got talked to. instead your eyes were fixated on the empty spot next to theo nott.

theo, who had noticed your look, send you a sympathic smile and shrugged his shoulders, making it obvious that he knew as much as you about mattheo's absence.

you got up from your seat aprublty, leaving the hall quickly and ignoring your friends questions. you took the fastest way to the astronomy tower you knew. you couldn't sit at the table and act like everything was normal. you wanted to be alone.

you let you legs dangle, the pole inbetween them securing your seating.

"seems like we both had the same idea" a sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts. you looked up. mattheo was standing at the stairs. you got up from your place.

"i'll leave" you assured him. after yesterday, you felt like it was your duty to give him space. he wasn't the problem, you were. and you didn't want to cause him any more harm.

"you don't have to" mattheo shrugged and you noticed that he was lying. he would rather have you leave again then look at you while knowing you would never reciprocate the way he did it.

"it's fine" you smiled, but it wasn't genuine. you walked past him, but unintentionally stumbled and almost fell down the stairs. he reacted quickly and caught your arm.

he let go of you after he had stabilized your footing.

"thank you" you mumbled

he ignored it. "maybe you should go to madam pomfrey, your arm is burning hot"

you perked up at that. "what?" you whispered.

"your arm is burning hot" he repeated, assuming you just hadn't heard him.

you looked at him in disbelief, remembering how his skin used to feel under your touch, and how the reason behind it all had been simple and plain love.

but you had to know for sure. you pulled your blouse from your skirt, quickly unbuttoning the last buttons. you pulled it up, so that your skin was bare. "can you touch me there?" you asked and mattheo's eyes widened.

"what the fuck?" he wondered.

"can you just do it, please?" you asked again and he sighed, but softly touched you. "is it hot?"

"your skin or this situation?"

"the skin" your face reddened.

mattheo nodded and frowned. "alarmingly, actually"

"open your shirt" you directed and to your surprise, he did like you had asked without the slightest hesitation.

you pressed you hand against his chest quickly. his skin was burning underneath it. you smiled.

"touch my face" mattheo cupped your cheeks. he nodded silently, confirming that your face was as hot as the rest of your body.

your smile grew even bigger and mattheo smiled back hesitantely, still confused at what was going on. "can i hug you?" you asked.

mattheo nodded and opened his arms for you to step in. for the first time you were doing something that didn't involve sexual lust. you breathed in his smell of nicotine and perfume and you wondered how something so simple could be so special. you stepped back and you knew that you were now seeing things in a different light, everything, even him.

"i'm probably not good at it" you admitted "but i think i'm in love with you"

mattheo smiled at you and laughed. "you were teribble at it, yeah" he grinned "so there is much room for improvement"

you giggled, but quickly grew serious again "i'm not good at being committed"

"me either" he said and stepped closer, taking your face in his hands once again. "but we will manage, we can learn together" he promised and kissed you softly. both of your lips were burning up.

"that sounds like a plan" you smiled, touching his cheeks with your fingers "but it will be hard to love me" you looked down.

"i don't care" mattheo crashed his lips to yours. he drew you close to his body, deepening the kiss and squeezing your waist in a way that made you squeek in surprise. he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. you stroke his cheek and he smiled, happy tears shimmering in his eyes. "be mine. for longer than now"

"okay" you nodded and you felt butterflies errupting at the smile that appeared on his face.

he nodded and you mirrored his smile. "okay"

[veethefreeelf]

How many times does it take to get smarter? Y.JH

Summary: 

Jeonghan and you start a fwb relationship after years of being best friends. He only has two rules: no feelings and no kissing. Who’s going to break the rules first?

Wordcount: around 6.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, bossy Jeonghan

Requested: Yes, here

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from Y/N’s perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages and/or calls between characters

As you sit on your couch on your day off and stare at the message in your phone, you ask yourself: How did this all start anyway? How are you sitting here, sexting your best friend in the middle of the afternoon and absolutely loving it? Well, for most of your shared friends, ‘this was bound to happen sooner or later’ as they so lovingly put it but, for both you and Jeonghan (the one on the receiving end of the sexting) this was never supposed to happen and it can end just as abruptly as it started.

You don’t remember exactly who leaned in and started all of this but you do remember the conversation after your boundaries as best friends had been completely crossed. While still naked and tangled, Jeonghan immediately stated he would like to continue doing this with you on a friends with benefits basis only, and if you agreed, he had only two main rules for this whole thing. 

First rule was a pretty cliché one: no feelings. You remember laughing at this when it first said it and teasing him for such a cliché move.

“It’s cliché for a reason, love. It happens more than it should” you remember how serious he sounded.

Second rule was an unbelievable one and it made you laugh even harder than the previous: no kissing. Now it makes sense why he did not kiss you at all during that first time you were together even though you were very (VERY) interested in doing so.

“Hannie, are you being serious? Who am I? The mistress you can’t kiss because if you do, it’s considered cheating on the non-existing housewife waiting for you at home?” you really couldn’t stop laughing.

“Kissing is reserved for people I want a serious relationship with and see myself being with in the long run” he said, even more serious this time around.

You stopped laughing immediately and… It hurt. That comment stung. Looking back on it, you realize this may have been a sign that you should not say yes to his proposition. That there was only one way this ‘agreement’ was going to end: badly. WIth you in tears. 

But you ignored that initial sting and pain. You ignored that initial sign from your brain and heart and said yes.

Jeonghan let you know there were essentially no other rules. You could call and/or text whenever you needed him and wanted to have him and he would do the same. Your friendship would remain the same, still having your weekly dinner and movie/show and, whenever either of you wanted to end this, for whatever reason, it would immediately end. One thing he kept saying was “No matter what, no matter how this ends, I still want you in my life, love. You are one of the most important people in my life, and that will never change”.

You nodded silently. But of course he would not let you get away with just nodding. He takes out his most powerful weapon against you. His pinkie. He wanted you to pinkie promise that your friendship would remain the same after you were done fucking each other casually. You remember how much a pinkie promise means to Jeonghan. The words ‘It can never be broken’ pop up in your mind and you hesitate. 

This was sign two. You got two signs from yourself during that same initial conversation with him to stop this before you both ruined what you have built together over the years.

Yet… You did it. You lifted your pinkie and you made that promise to each other. Why did it suddenly feel like you wouldn’t be able to hold up the end of your promise when the time came? ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ you had told yourself.

After that first time, you didn’t speak to each other for two weeks. The only messages exchanged between the two of you were the ones he sent to cancel your weekly meetings. You thought this was very strange. In all the years you have known each other and started this weekly tradition, he missed one, maybe two in all that time. This was unlike the Jeonghan you knew and you started to wonder if the gravity of the situation had finally caught up with him. 

You have always had the tendency to overthink things. And a tendency to: ‘hurt yourself with your own imagination’ as Jeonghan lovingly put it. So you told yourself that maybe he was just busy with work or… Well… Maybe another fuck-buddy or one-night stand. That’s the thing about him, he rarely dates anyone seriously. However, fuck-buddies and one-night stands are something he revels in more than most. 

You never thought about it much. Always just figured he has high standards for who he dates and just wants to keep the loneliness at bay by having these agreements with different women. 

Now that you were one of these women, you wanted to know if this would be an exclusive fuck-buddy relationship. For health purposes, obviously. Not because you are a very jealous person who does not like sharing, of course. God, you hoped he was just busy with work and not with someone else. If he had been with someone else, did this mean you hadn’t been good enough? That whatever happened between the two of you didn’t satisfy him? That would be a depressing revelation since you were left extremely satisfied after your first time with Jeonghan.

As you sit on the edge of your bed, overthinking everything about the last time you and him were face-to-face, your phone starts to ring next to you and of course, it’s the man himself: Yoon Jeonghan.

“You home?” he states plainly.

“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Yoon. How have you been? Good! Me? Been good too, busy with work but you know-”

“Stop the games, Y/N. I’m not in the mood. You home or do I have to call someone else?” he said as he rudely interrupted your very passive aggressive answer.

“I’m home” you answered and swallowed thickly.

“Good. Be there in 30. Be ready” he said in a very low voice and proceeded to hang up on you.

Shit, that was new, you thought. You were not quite sure what to make of that but you remembered the time that you accidentally heard the boys talk about how Jeonghan was less than vanilla with most people he slept with and then you started feeling oh so excited for him to arrive.

Those 30 minutes went by so unbearably slow. You remember it as if it was yesterday. You spent those 30 minutes getting ready for him. You showered, used your strawberry lotion that he loved so much and put on the tiniest, filthiest lingerie piece you had on. You then started to overthink again. Just because he had called like that, it didn’t mean he would want you. Were you being presumptuous? ‘Better put a robe on, just in case I’m extremely wrong’ you thought and you went to your closet to find the baby blue silk robe you loved so much.

He rang your doorbell right on time which was very on brand for the Jeonghan you have known for so long. You were a bit shaky walking to the door but you kept telling yourself ‘It’s just your friend, Jeonghan. Just your friend. Nothing to be shaking for. Your heart has no business beating this hard and fast for him’.

You opened the door and he immediately walked past you into your living room. He started taking off his jacket and shoes. 

“What are you standing there for? Go to the bedroom, take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed” he stated while staring you up and down and realizing you had a much too short robe on you.

“Excuse me?” you defied him. Of course you did. You had always done that as his friend and that was not about to change just because you two had found yourselves in that position at that moment in time.

“Talk back to me again and I’ll leave right now and find myself someone with less of a fucking smart mouth” he said while he looked feral and very ready to be true to his previous words.

You had not answered him. Instead, you went to the bedroom, took off your robe and waited for him on the bed as he had told you. While there, you heard him moving around in the bathroom and started to realize you were probably in for a wild ride that evening.

He walked into the bedroom and when he first looked at you, he stopped and just stared. He was breathing heavily and licking his lips.

“For someone who likes to talk back to me so much, you sure were ready to be fucked tonight weren’t you, love?” he said and you gulped.

“Better safe than sorry. I like being prepared”

“Hmm… Good girl” he responded and you almost melted into your mattress right then and there. 

“Are you going to do something or just stare at me all night, Hannie?”

“Let me be clear since you don’t seem to know your place. I make the rules here, not you. I move when I want to. I do what I want to. And you will be a good girl and take everything I give you, when I give you. Do you understand?” he asked and you audibly scoffed at him.

He squinted his eyes at you and cracked his neck. You got scared he was going to walk out and in that moment you deeply hated your mouth for always being so fucking honest.

“One more scoff or mouthy comeback and I’m walking out of here. That’s a fucking promise. Now, are you going to be a good girl and know your place from now on or do I need to leave and end this fucking deal?” 

“Stay. I’ll be good…” you answered in a barely audible voice.

“You’ll have to speak louder, love. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just me. Your Hannie, yeah? You trust me, right?”

“Of course I do. This is just… Very new. Maybe… Be a bit patient with me if I screw up, yeah?” you asked him in what you considered to be your most innocent look.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more patient. Just had a very shitty day” he said while he walked closer to you.

“Let me make it better, Hannie” you said while you started to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper. He looked down at you and held your face with both hands.

“You look so fucking gorgeous in that tiny fucking thing, love. You know that, hmm?” he said while he held your face.

“Thank you, Hannie…” you answered shyly while you continued to take his pants and underwear off.

Once his bottom half was fully displayed to you, you started to stroke his cock while you both stared at each other. It started to leak with pre-cum and you took advantage of that to stroke harder and faster.

“You gonna put this cock in your mouth or just stroke it like we’re teenagers hiding from our parents, baby?” he said breathily. And, for a split second your mind started to think about that pet name. Baby. He had never called any of his flings by that pet name. Well, at least not in front of you but you rationalized that behind closed doors he probably had done it before. You were not different nor special.

You chose not to answer him. You just pushed him a bit away from you, you moved from the bed to the floor, on your knees and dove in.

You had never really enjoyed sucking dick. It had always been something you do for your partner but it never had any effect on you. Until this man, that is. At that moment, you were desperate. You wanted to suck the life out of him through his dick. You were going to make sure he would never forget the kind of head you gave him. 

You were sloppy and loud. Spit was running down your chin and you had started easing up into fitting his whole cock in your mouth (and throat). It had been a long while since you had had a cock this big and since you deep throated. When you had finally managed to fully swallow all of him, he pulled you back with a groan. He was panting hard when he pulled you up to your feet by one of your hands and by your hair.

“You’re so greedy. You need to be taught some manners” he said as he backed you up until you reached your bed.

He took off the last pieces of clothing he had on and pushed you down on the bed. You moved up on the bed with him as he started to settle between your legs.

“Look at you. So fucking sloppy…” he said while he spread the remaining spit on your chin all over your face.

“Hmm… Just the way I like it though…” he continued praising you.

He started touching you. Started by slowly running his hand from your neck down to your hip bone while he stared at you. This had been very different from the first time you two had been together. The first time had been rushed. No suspense, mostly no foreplay. Straight to the point. This time, it seemed he was wanting to take his time and was in no mood to rush anything.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him. Bad. You had to keep reminding yourself ‘No kissing. Don’t kiss him. Don’t lean in. Don’t you dare ruin this’. You decided to start touching him, to try and prevent your urges from coming through and breaking one of his rules.

You started to run your fingers through his hair and use your nails on his scalp, just the way he had always loved it. You then moved your other hand down his chest and lightly scratched his chest in the process. He hissed and slapped your thigh.

“No scratching and no marks, baby” he said while he started to kiss down your neck.

“Are those new rules, Hannie?” you asked as you started to get more and more breathless. 

“In a sense, yes. They apply for me but not for you. No marking me but I can mark you however I see fit. Understood?” 

“Unfair…” you stated as you began to pout at him.

“No pouting. These are my rules. Not too late to back out, love” he said while then moving his hand to your back to undo your bra. 

All you could do was moan. Something flashed in your mind ‘Not too late to back out’. You quickly put that idea out of your mind. You didn’t want to back out. You had wanted this and you were going to continue with this deal.

That was the third real sign. Just a quick flash. A brief warning from your heart most likely. But again, you ignored it.

“I need an answer, love. Is this too much for you?” he asked and stopped moving to look into your eyes while he waited for your answer.

“No, it’s fine. Just… I might forget them in the heat of the moment, so I’ll need your help enforcing the rules” you answered and he laughed, almost mocking you.

“Don’t worry, love. I definitely won’t forget them. I’ll stop you if it gets to that” he said and then continued to take off your bra. 

With the bra out of the way, he started to kiss and leave hickies all over your chest. Wherever his mouth wasn’t, his hands were. You felt so surrounded, so engulfed. You were getting louder by the second and you knew he was enjoying it. He kept humming when you got particularly loud and continued to abuse that specific spot until a full mark had begun to form. 

Once he was satisfied with his work, he leaned back on his heels between your legs and stared at you while running his hands through your legs. 

“You look even better with my marks all over you, baby” he said and he noticed you started to get a bit red and shy and refused to look him in the eye. He tapped your thigh twice and you looked at him (finally). He then smiled at you, leaned over and completely cupped your pussy with his hand. You started to pant almost instantly.

“Shit, baby. You’re already so fucking wet. You were trying to give me shit on marking you but look at this fucking mess you’re making” he said as he started to run his fingers through the wet patch in your (now) soaked panties.

“Hannie…” you moaned as he kept stroking you ever so lightly.

“Hmm… You sound so pretty, baby” he whispered in your ear.

He then began to slide your panties off. He was being so slow, so meticulous. You didn’t know how much longer you could wait for him to touch you. You also knew that if you had started to protest, he would have probably given you an even more difficult time. 

He finally leaned in. Head between your legs, he began to blow air on your now swollen and begging to be touched clit while he held your pussy lips open with one hand. You hummed and instinctively moved your hips close to his mouth. You immediately thought you had fucked up.

The look you had in your eyes must have shown that fear because next thing you know Jeonghan is laughing at you. 

“I’ll let that one slide since I feel generous at the moment” he said and before you could have thanked him, he dove in and latched his mouth to your pussy. He grabbed your thighs with both hands and started to eat you out desperately. If you thought you had been sloppy when sucking his dick, he was even sloppier while eating you out. He was making out with your pussy like his life depended on it. Your moans had started to get louder, especially anytime he sucked and rolled your clit on his tongue. 

He kept humming and moaning along with you until he finally decided to insert one finger into your pussy. He had not kept that finger alone for too long and decided to join a second finger into your wet pussy. With two fingers and with how wet you were, the noises echoing through your bedroom were indecent, filthy. And you began to get closer and closer to the edge and it was when he moved his other hand to your tit and began to grab and massage it that you were pushed over the edge with a cry and moan of his name.

He moved back up your body and started to kiss your cheeks and neck softly while you were coming down from your high. 

“You were so fucking good for me, baby. So good… Let me know when you’re ready” he said while you tried to calm your breathing down.

“Fuck… I’m ready… Please, Hannie… Don’t make me wait anymore…” you moaned in desperation.

He started to move his cock up and down your folds and as he was about to get inside of you, you stopped him.

“Condom? Tell me you brought one, please” you said while you looked in his eyes.

“I thought since we started this deal, we wouldn’t need it anymore. I know you’re on birth control”

“I mean… As long as you’re not fucking anyone else while you’re fucking me… I guess we can. But if you plan to have more fuck-buddies or one-night stands or whatever you want to call them, then no. We will need a condom” you said very seriously. You wanted him to understand that it was your turn to set up at least this one rule for yourself.

He looked at you with a strange expression. Almost disappointed that you even thought about him fucking other people when just two weeks before, he had proposed this deal to you.

“Of course I’m not fucking anyone else. You know I don’t have multiple fuck-buddies at the same time. Definitely not now, when I have this deal with you, love” he said and he inched closer to your face. You held your breath. ‘Is he gonna kiss me?’ you asked yourself. He rubbed his nose in yours and asked:

“So… Condom? No condom? Your call, love” and he continued rubbing his cock in your folds.

“No condom. Just get inside me. Now”

“Bossy” he smirked and finally (finally) got inside you. You both sighed and cursed under your breath when he bottomed out which made you both giggle.

He licked his lips, leaned back and placed both your legs on his shoulders. Then, he started with long strokes which quickly transformed into him pounding into you. He was fucking you hard. And with this position, he was kept at a distance from your lips which made you think about how fucking brilliant the man between your legs truly was. 

The sound of skin slapping, of how wet your pussy was, was driving you both insane. You could tell he was quickly losing his composure and so were you. You were still sensitive and you were already beginning to feel that familiar burning inside of you. Fuck, you were close. Very close.

He leaned in, bent you like a pretzel and whispered so so close to your lips:

“I got you. Cum, baby. Let go. I’m right here”

With his hand around your thigh and thumb on your clit rubbing furiously, you came with a loud scream of his name.

“Hannie… Hannie… Sensitive…” you said still panting.

“I know, baby. I’m right there… Fuck… Where? Tell me where”

You knew exactly what he was asking and your answer may not have been the smartest in that moment, but honestly, you didn’t give a fuck about being smart, not while he was between your legs looking at you like that.

“Inside, please. Please, Hannie. I need it”

And then, it was his turn to spill ropes of cum into you. ‘Begging. Of course. Predictable but expected’ you had thought about what triggered him to finally let go. 

Jeonghan laid on you, trying to keep most of his weight off of you while still recovering from his high. 

It was like everything hit you at once. You went there again. You two really crossed that line again and from the looks of it, it would continue happening after that moment. You… Didn’t know exactly what you were feeling. Looking back now… Maybe you knew exactly what you were feeling and that’s why you were so scared in that moment after everything that had transpired between you that night.

He got up, went to the bathroom and came back to clean you. He didn’t say a word and neither did you. He laid back down and pulled you close. You remembered thinking ‘This is not how fuck-buddies are supposed to act’. And you asked him:

“Do you cuddle all your fuck-buddies or should I consider myself lucky?”

“You should consider yourself special, love” he said right before falling asleep and you had felt it then. The fourth sign. You made a terrible mistake that night. You believed him.

The next morning he had left and said he would call you or text you or ‘whatever the fuck’. Ever the poet. And this is how this journey that you are now contemplating while sitting on your couch waiting for his text started.

After that second time, you two had met up regularly, sometimes multiple times a week. You always stayed at each other's place overnight and had always continued moving forward in your life. 

Your friendship was still the same, nothing major had changed and it was going great. But you kept waiting for that other shoe to drop. You knew sooner or later that it would because after the last time you were together, you remembered thinking that you didn’t want him to leave that morning. That maybe, instead of meeting up in your bed next time, you could meet up at the restaurant you’ve always wanted to go down the street from his house that he never took you to because ‘That is way too romantic for us, love’. 

That last time you were together, the one that made you think all of this… It was strange. You had felt at the time, something had shifted for him too because while he was fucking you on his kitchen counter, he leaned in so close… You could almost taste him… And then he moved away and flipped you over so that you were now bent over the counter and as far away from his lips as possible. Jeonghan had wanted to kiss you then, you were sure of it. You didn’t know what to feel. Happy because he had wanted to? Or devastated at the fact he still didn’t kiss you?

Fifth sign. You were devastated. You considered stopping everything. Just putting an end to your arrangement. You already knew you were fucked for him and you were also painfully aware that he did not feel the same way.

You didn’t text or call him. He, in turn, texted and called you multiple times. You had claimed you were on a business trip and out of the country. You were just hiding at home. Too much of a coward to break it off and too hurt to see him.

Of course this didn’t last long. Jeonghan knew you better than anyone and he knew when you were lying and avoiding something. Even though he knew, he had left you alone for that week. He probably had figured you needed time to deal with whatever was holding you back. But after that week, he showed up at your door. You didn’t make a sound, wondering if he would just leave if you did not answer any of the rings or knocks.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N. I gave you a week of lying and hiding. No more. Let me in, please, love”

Nothing. You didn’t want to see him. ‘Why is he like this?’ you had asked yourself. But you knew if the roles were reversed, you would be doing the exact same thing at his door and would not be leaving until he opened it so you knew the only way out of this was through it.

You opened the door, turned and started walking to your couch. You started playing whatever you were watching before he showed up and pretended to be paying attention to it. ‘Shit’ you thought. You knew he saw right through you.

“Are you really going to do this? You think I don’t know you enough to know what you’re pulling?” he asked, sitting on the couch with you and staring at you.

“I’m fine, Hannie. Just wanted to be alone for a while. Simple” you told him. You hated playing this card on him but he knew that once in a while you got a bit down about your family and the struggles with those relationships and you always used to tell him ‘Sometimes all I need is some alone time and I figure it out’. 

“You could’ve told me instead of lying though. You know I hate lies. You promised a long time ago, no lies between us, remember?”

You stared at him.

“I’m sorry, Hannie. Didn’t want to burden you, that’s all”

He had looked at you almost as if trying to figure out what you were thinking. Trying to understand why you had lied and kept lying. He must have decided then, it wasn’t worth asking anymore and he just put his arm around you, looked at the TV and asked:

“What are we watching, then?”

You had indeed started to watch the show with him but that quickly turned into something else. And again, this time was even stranger than the last. 

He had been so gentle with you, always whispering sweet nothings. Things you thought should only be whispered to a significant other, not a friend, not a fuck-buddy. No. This felt very different. 

That night, it felt like he made love to you. He laid you back on the couch after stripping both of you naked. He took his time eating you out like you were his last meal and only after you came 3 times from his mouth alone did he start fucking you. Or at the time, you thought he was going to fuck you but he surprised you. He held both your hands and kept them intertwined while he slowly thrusted into you. You lost track of time. It felt surreal, it felt like you were dreaming.

In the middle of all the moaning and panting and whispering, he did something that you never expected. He… Kissed you. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was a passionate kiss, tongues intertwined, moaning like he needed this like he needed air to breathe. Such a contrast from how he was thrusting into you. And you let him. You kissed him back and you remember thinking ‘A kiss between friends shouldn’t feel this way’. 

Your heart was pounding and you wanted to feel his but he had kept your hands above your head intertwined with his and would not let go.

That night, after you both came and he cleaned you up. He didn’t say a word, just like during your second time. Except this time, he did not stay the night.

He got dressed and walked out. Without even a spare glance at you. You knew then. The sixth and final sign before you had decided, it was time to come clean and end this.

And that’s precisely what you were trying to do when you started texting him. However, as usual he had other plans and that’s why texting turned into sexting which turned into you reliving everything that has happened in the last couple of months between you.

This realization snaps you back into reality and you abruptly delete the very graphic text you were about to send and send another one instead.

“Come over whenever you can. I need to talk to you about something” you sent.

“What a way to kill a boner, Y/N. Let’s keep having fun now, I’ll come over when this meeting ends” and you wondered why you even thought his response was going to be any different.

“I’m serious, Jeonghan. No more games for today. Come over when you can and we’ll talk then” you sent and put your phone on silent. You didn’t want a back and forth, you needed him to know you were serious.

You were sure he knew though. Very rarely did you call him Jeonghan. It was always ‘angel’ or ‘Hannie’. Never Jeonghan.

You knew what was going to happen once he was there. Your heart was about to be broken by your favorite person in the world. You wanted to have hope, but you knew better than that. You knew him better than that. You were never special. The only difference between you and the usual girls he found, was that you had been best friends before. That was it. Nothing else to it.

After thinking about how you were going to tell him the truth. You decided to be as blunt as possible. He always loved that about you. When you were completely honest with him about everything. Even if the shit you said sometimes hurt to hear.

He got to your apartment almost an hour after that text. That was fairly quickly during his work day so he must have known you meant what you texted.

“So… Should I sit down for this, love? You’re not dying are you?” he joked. 

However, when he saw the look in your eyes he knew. This was not a joking matter and this moment wasn’t about him. It was about you.

“I love you, Jeonghan”

He stared at you.

“And no, I don’t mean in a ‘best friends’ type of way. I’m in love with you. If I’m being honest with both of us, I always have been. From the day I met you. But I knew.. I was never your type. Not then… Definitely not now. So I settled. I became your best friend. I realized I wanted to stay by your side even if you never saw me the way I wanted you too. It was… well… Stupid of me. Of course I only realized this once you started dating someone. It was painful but I pushed it down. If I’ve learned anything about my shitty childhood and most of my shitty life is to compartmentalize things. So, I put the box with all my feelings for you deep inside of my soul and pushed it down anytime I thought that dam would break. Until now. You were right. Clichés are clichés for a reason. Except in this case, I was already in love with you. I just hoped you would fall too.”

You knew it was a lot to process but now that you opened this dam, you couldn’t close it anymore. You were sobbing now looking at him and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all. No emotion was showing in his face. He too knew all too well to compartmentalize and he had a much better poker face than yours.

“Don’t worry though. I have no illusions that you feel the same way. I know you don’t. You made that perfectly clear after we fucked the first time. ‘Kissing is reserved for people I want a serious relationship with and see myself being with in the long run’. That really fucking hurt. The person I loved most in the world telling me I’m simply not good enough for them. I’m good enough to fuck though, apparently” you chuckled darkly.

“I know you kept saying that no matter what, you still wanted me in your life. What you forgot to wonder was if at the end of this deal, I would still want you in my life. I do. But not as a friend. Not as a fuck-buddy. I want all of it. And…I know you can’t give that to me. Even if you kissed me last time. I know you didn’t mean it like that. That’s why you left, right? Because you thought I was going to get sentimental about it. Well… I did. Cried myself to sleep in fact. You may have broken that rule first but I broke the most important rule long before we started this.” you kept going and now… Now he was also holding back tears, realizing this is not just the end of the deal. It’s the end of you two.

“I don’t blame you for any of it. In fact, you gave me plenty of options to back out. But I was greedy. I wanted to know what it was like. To be with you. Even if it was pretend, even if none of it was ever real. I wanted to feel it. What the ones good enough for you felt before me and what others will in the future. I needed to know. Even if now I am hurting and will keep hurting for a long time… Maybe for the rest of my life.” 

You were done. Now, the worst part came. You were about to give him an out and you knew he was going to take it but you had to know. You had to be sure.

“I know this is a lot to take in and I know you probably feel blindsided and overwhelmed. But I also know your answer. I just needed you to hear my side. Now that you have, it’s time to make your choice. Stay here and talk to me about this, which means giving us a chance. Or leave, without saying a word. Without looking back, like you did the last time we saw each other. And I’ll know for sure.”

He started to move.

“Before you make your decision though, know that whatever decision you make is final. There will be no regrets. No reconnecting in a few years when you think enough time has passed. If you walk out. We are done. Our paths will never converge or cross again. I love you Jeonghan. But I have to love myself more.”

He nodded. Audibly gulped. And then did what you were already expecting from him.

He left.

He left you.

Just as abruptly as it started, it had now ended. 

Not just the deal, no.

Everything.

You knew. You knew this would be his choice but why did it still fucking hurt this much.

There will never be another Jeonghan in your life. He was everything to you, even now. While you are crying and tearing pictures apart. You know.

Life as you know it was done. You will have to carry on with a broken heart that will never be healed.

But you are proud of yourself. You spent so much of your life choosing others over yourself and today, you chose yourself.

Eventually, the broken heart won’t be as loud. Time will help. You will still hurt, always for him but you will be better. You will be yourself again just with a few more scars.

As for Jeonghan… He also knew.

He knew there will never be another you.

He knew that night when he left. He doesn’t kiss anyone accidentally. No, he learned that the hard way a long time ago. He had wanted to kiss you. And not just that night. All the other times before then too.

He told himself it was the sex. It was just too good. It was clouding his judgment.

He didn’t have feelings for you, not at all. It just wasn’t possible. Not after all these years. Right? Or did he.. Always feel this way? Was that why he acted the way he did and jumped at the first opportunity to have you in his bed? 

He knew. Finally.

He also knows now you will never forgive him. The pinky promise had finally been broken.

He will have to settle. All his worries about the future. About dating only the right people. People worthy of him. Everything makes sense now.

Most people were not worthy of him only after he met you. You showed him what love was from the start and no one could measure up.

It’s too late now.

And besides, he’s the one that was never worthy of you. Never once. And he never will be.

Please let me know if you’d like a part 2 of this. I am a happy endings fan so I might be down to write it if you guys want it too so please reach out and let me know! And let me know if you liked it please CHEERS 🥂

PS: You can find part 2 here

[axiina]

I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

[shiggyscumrag]

To fuck or not to fuck?

Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.

Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!

AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋

Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.

Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.

It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?

You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.

“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.

“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.

“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”

“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.

“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.

“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.

Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.

“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.

Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.

“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.

“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.

Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.

“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.

“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.

“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.

“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.

“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.

A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?

After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.

“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.

“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.

“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.

“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.

Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.

“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.

“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.

“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.

Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.

“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.

“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”

“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.

“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.

“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.

“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.

“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.

“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.

“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?

“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.

“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.

“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.

“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”

As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.

“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”

“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.

“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.

“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.

“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.

“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.

“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.

“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.

“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.

“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.

Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.

“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“What do you want baby? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.

Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.

“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Fuck me.” He moans out.

“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.

“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.

“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.

“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.

“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.

“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.

“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.

“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.

“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.

“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.

He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.

“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.

“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.

“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.

“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.

“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.

Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.

Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.

“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.

“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.

“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”

Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.

“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.

“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?