#he won’t say what happened because he can’t comprehend it

[thecampbellclub]

i need some drunk sad hughie on the edge of the gun after robins death for morale boost

[tobyfier]

Can you do a doppelgänger M!reader? Reader is a doppelgänger who manages to move into the apartment complex and readers original plan was to k!ll everyone the moment he was let in but the moment he’s allowed in he sees Francis just trying to get to his apartment and reader becomes immediately infatuated with him, he then has a change of plans. His new plan is to get Francis’s attention anyway possible.

This can be smut or not doesn’t matter you do whatever you want with this, this just came off the top of my head and I just need more milkman fics 😿😿

I’m inlove with a monster.

;Male reader

Genre: Fluff to smut

Warning: NSFW AT THE END!!! Bottom reader,Handjobs(receiving),creampie,make out session,overstimulation

A/n: Technically this isn’t my first time writing smut..however it has been a while since I wrote one, I’m just hoping it won’t look too cringy; as for the minors..I can’t exactly stop you from reading this, you guys are just growing people who’s going through puberty, I’ve been through that before. Now I will discourage minors who are BELOW 13 years old.

This doorman is taking a bit longer than usual to be honest. They seem to be double checking everything, did they figure it out or something? My heart stopped when I saw them reach for the phone ‘Fuck, I didn’t think of that.’ I didn’t break out of character just yet, there’s a possibility that the real one isn’t home. They waited and waited until they put the phone down. They stared at me for a while, cold sweat started to run down my neck before they smiled and pressed a button

“Alright, looks like you’re good to go!” I sighed from relief and nodded at them before going inside the building, I grinned to how naive the doorman is because of their mistake, they put everyone’s lives at risk, oh I can’t wait-…whoa..

3rd POV

M/n honestly felt like the world stopped moving when he say a guy infront of him struggling to open his door, he didn’t know who that guy or what his name is but all he knows is that he’s pretty charming. Once the man shut his door only then M/n snapped out of his trance, a slight blush covering his face. Trying to figure out what the hell just happened to him, it all felt so new to him and so unfamiliar. But nonetheless he didn’t dislike the feeling, he wanted more in fact..

‘New purpose, I’m gonna try and get as close with that mine and find out what this feeling is.’ M/n thought before going downstairs to ask for a spare key because he doesn’t have a key to his new house

Every single day M/n would try and greet Francis, to try and strike a conversation with him.

“Hey Francis, buddy ol pal, how you doing?” M/n greeted him, trying to act as normal and formal as possible but failing to do so.

“I’m doing fine, how about you mr. Moo juice?” Francis responded smiling a bit at the nickname he gave for M/n.

“It was one time!” M/n’s face burned from embarrassment, as a way to talk to Francis he tried ordering some milk from him when he stumbled on his words, calling milk ‘Moo juice’ by mistake.

“Well I’m sorry but it’s pretty much I possible for me to get that memory out of my head, it’s too funny!” Francis giggled, M/n could listen to him giggle every single day and will not get tired of hearing it

“Well-I still remember the time when you accidentally barged into my apartment thinking it was yours because you were drunk!” Now it was Francis turn to get embarrassed

“Well you can’t exactly blame a drunk man for it, I would barely comprehend what happened then!” Francis laughed before putting on his hat “I’d love to chat with you more but I still have to go to work. I’ll talk to you later, see you!” He greeted him goodbye and went down the hall to the elevator

2nd POV

You sighed, already missing his presence greatly. During the past few months you grew to be comfortable living in the apartments, forming friendship with the other neighbors most especially Francis, obviously. After some time you learned that the original you was actually a writer..a bit boring but you tried writing a few times and slowly you grew to like it.

Sometimes you wondered whether the original you and Francis ever talked to eachother, but from how shy and quiet he was during the first few conversations maybe not as close. Every single conversation,exchange of greetings,waves,or any interaction with him, you cherished every single one of them. With a help of a neighbor whom you call a friend named Mia, told you that it might be a crush or infatuation. And although it’s not really viewed as a good thing to date the same gender in public, you could care less about what other people think. You only cared about Francis view on it, I mean he has an ex wife and literally has a child. It’s impossible for him to like you back..

Atleast that’s what you hoped, you hoped this time you were wrong.

Timeskip

Francis’ POV

I sighed at the tiring day, driving house to house and city to city was really tiring. All I wanted was to go back to my apartment and rest..if not maybe chat with M/n again. He’s a really nice and fun person to be with, his energy was never really overwhelming and he’s the perfect person to talk to whenever I’m tired but also want someone to talk to. His stories are so interesting to listen to, especially the forbidden love ones.

If I had to be honest, I never thought him and I were gonna get close. After the “moo juice” incident, we started talking more. I hope I get to talk to him soon, for now I have to focus on delivering this milk trays. I looked back to see how much I have to deliver and saw that there was still a lot, he sighed “This is gonna take a while..”

.

.

.

.

I groaned, finally done delivering the milk and stumbled upon the elevator, pressing the 3rd button and waiting for it to close. I took off my hat and started fanning myself, hoping it will cool me off from the tiring job. I sighed in relief once I heard the elevator ring and walked out of the elevator to M/n’s apartment, knocking a few times before waiting.

M/n’s POV

I yawned tiredly, I just woke up from a nap because someone knocked on the door. Being a different species has it’s perks, one being having heightened hearing. I opened the door not caring if it was a Doppel or not, if it was then I could handle it anyway, I’m one myself..what I didn’t expect was a tired milkman collapsing on me like a drunken man.

“Bloody hell-you scared me!” I wrapped my arm on his torso and carried him to my couch, I tried walking away to get something when he suddenly pulled me into the couch, trapping me below him “Uhm..Francis buddy, let me go. I’m gonna get some pillows for you.”

“No..stay here, I’ll just use you as my pillow..” he mumbled, hugging me tighter. It’s adorable seeing him in such state, it reminded me of the time he got drunk

“You’re Lucky You’re adorable..” i mumbled suddenly, not even thinking of my words, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Francis tensed and looked at me

“You find me adorable?” He asked, he doesn’t sound disgusted nor angry, actually he sounds shock and intrigue

“Uh yeah, I do actually..” What the fuck am I saying, he might think I’m weird now!

“..I’m glad you think of me that way too..” he said before laying his head on my chest..wait what.

“Hold on what-you cant just say that so suddenly!” I said sitting up straight so he won’t fall asleep on me

“Why not? You said it first.” He replied, my face burned from embarrassment

“I mean yeah but I didn’t expect you to think I’m cute..” I said blushing a bit

“Why not? I mean sometimes you act like a dog, obedient and gets excited when it comes to certain things. Especially when you’re talking about your new story. Everything about you is cute.” He said, not minding the effects of what his words did to me, bastard even smirked.

“Stop it, you’re saying things out of the blue!” I yelled, hiding my face from him, but my heart stopped when I heard what he said next

“Not to mention when you’re so tired, you don’t notice the little horns sticking out of your head.” I stopped for a moment and slowly looked at him, does he..I quickly grabbed his wrists and pinned him in the couch

“When did you know about me.” I asked sternly, although I liked him, I didn’t wanna go back to the d.d.d’s. No, i already had a good life and I won’t let it go away.

“The first week after we talked.” How is he so calm about this? I mean a doppelgänger pinning him to the couch, potentially getting eaten? “I already know you won’t hurt nor eat me, you love me too much for you to do that.”

“Well I uh..true..” I replied, loosening my grip on his wrists, in return he slipped his hand out and slowly he sat up

“See, I knew you love me..” he said soothingly while rubbing my head, like a dog..I sighed

“You didn’t even tell me?..” I asked, I’m a bit suprised how he’s handling this situation so calmly

“I always rub your head like this and it just goes away.” He said before pulling his hand back “see? It’s gone.”

“IT WAS THERE AGAIN?!” I yelled, he chuckled

“So uh..what are we now?..” he asked, I tilted my head in confusion

“Are we-I mean can you-do you wanna be together?..” he asked in a low voice, I was silent for a moment before quickly hugging him

“You don’t know how happy I am for you to tell that you actually like me back, even after knowing I’m not even the original M/n..” I hugged him tighter, I felt his arms wrap around my lower back and buried his face on my hair

“If I had to be honest, I prefer you over the original..and don’t think I haven’t noticed you.” He said giggling a bit, I was confused on what he meant by that “I can always see glancing at me from a far,from how your mood drastically changes depending if I’m in the room or not,and don’t get me started with those lovable dork eyes of yours with the mention of my name. And Mia ratted you out.”

“She what?!” I yelled, I groaned loudly and slapped a hand on my face, I means it’s expected..this is Mia we’re talking about, she literally told me all of the gossip when we first talked..

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, I looked at him with wide eyes, is it just me or is he getting bolder? “So is that a no-“

“Yes!” I quickly answered before shutting my mouth, it sounded like I was desperate or something, he seemed to like it by the way he chuckled

Before I knew, our lips smashed with each other, the kiss felt nice..it was comforting and tender, and filled with love. Something I wanted to experience everyday, and I’ll be sure to make that happen. Unfortunately he pulled away, I leaned forward unconsciously and he laughed through his nose.

“It seems you liked it it by how you leaned for more.” He laughed a bit, I could only stare at him with adoration, yeah I could definitely get used to this..

I quickly pulled him into another one to which he reciprocated quickly, the kiss was much more intense than before. I opened my mouth a little to get some air when he suddenly pushed his tongue inside my mouth, to which I choked at the sudden sensation but I welcomed it nonetheless. Looks can be deceiving, he’s the right person to use for it, at first he way seem like a tired and inexperienced person but boy..when I tell you he’s good..

Soon he pulled away so we can catch our breaths, a string of saliva connected our mouths as we planted from the session we had. My face was red considering it was my first time doing that, I was a bit surprised how well and experienced he is actually.

“Do you still wanna go further?” He asked, either way he already knows I’m gonna say yes due to the tent in my pants anyway

“Y-yeah sure.” I stuttered, he seems to be looking at my pants

“Just wanted to ask, since you’re a doppelgänger and you can alternate yourself, I’m just wondering if there’s a possibility you can alternate down there?” He asked, ah so that’s why

“Yeah, why? Do you want me to change it?” I asked but he shook his head as a no

“No, I want something to play with while doing it.” I raised an eyebrow at his statement

“..what?..”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“O-oh shit-!” I gasped when his pace became faster, currently we were in my bedroom giving me a handjob, he had an iron grip on my leg so I couldn’t crawl away “Hah ah-I shouldn’t..have ah!-asked..” I managed to speak

He just chuckled at my disheveled appearance, my hair was a mess. Sticking to my forehead, some got tangled by how much I turned my head side to side to ignore the feeling. My clothes are long gone, all thrown to the floor thanks to Mr. Milkman. Francis was shirtless and his hat was on my head, saying I looked cuter with it. This guy really likes seeing me like this doesn’t he?

“Please..” I muttered, I’m close and I’m sure he noticed it too by how my dick throb in his hand.

“Please what dearie? I can’t hear you.” He teased, smug bastard.

“Let m-me come mngh..please-I’m clo-HNGK..!” I choked on my spit once he gripped it and speed up the pace much faster than before, I tried to hold it in but the bastard was determined to make me release, and so I did. White streaks shot out from the tip, landing on his chest and to my stomach. I panted like a person who ran a marathon, but it felt great. It was something I’ve never really felt before..

I looked over at him to see him wipe some of the cum of his chest and to his mouth, I blushed at the act and immediately yelled at him

“Spit that out, it’s dirty!” He didn’t listen of course, fucker even snapped his tongue

“It’s sweet and salty..” he seemed a bit surprised, is it because of the salty part or sweet?

“Probably from all the milk you delivered to me..” I finally calmed down from my high but noticed that he was unbuckling his belt.

“H-hold on, you’re not finished I thought-hey!” I was a bit surprised when he listed my other leg and rested it on his shoulder, I grabbed a pillow to hold on to, something tells this one is gonna be different..

“You didn’t think I was finish were you?” His eyes met mine and instantly I felt small “I still haven’t had my problem solved yknow?”

Oh yeah he’s right, it would be a bit unfair to stop this when he hasn’t finished his yet. And so I hug my pillow, preparing for what’s about to happen. I dozed off a bit, obviously this is my first time and I have no experience with this kind of things, I just wondered how it was gonna feel whether it would lean more to pain or-

“Holy sh-mngh..!” I bite into the pillow when I felt my stretched up when he entered, it stinged, not in a way it was painful, it felt good..

He didn’t think so though because he immediately stopped and looked at me with concern “Sh-shit I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you..” he apologized, rubbing circles around my thighs

“It’s fine..it-..it felt good.” I admitted “Keep going..”

He blushed and nodded, slowly he pushed the rest of it in me, I muffled myself using the pillow. Holy shit did that feel nice, never really thought it would feel this good honestly.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, it’s cute how he still needs to ask

“Yes..” I replied

He indeed took that opportunity and pulled away, leaving the tip inside me before thrusting back. I choked out a moan, not expecting the sudden rough movement, not that I was complaining though it was kind of attractive.

The pace was fast and hard, the way he feels inside of me was something I could never explain in words. He was quite literally hitting all of the right place, like he studied my body and memorized all of the sensitive parts. The bed started creaking from how fast he was going but I could careless, all I could think about was him and him only. I was close again, the knot in my stomach was back. And as if he’s reading my thoughts his hand gripped my dick once more and started pumping it. His hand felt so nice against my dick, I could get used to this all day.

“F-fuck!..too ah-!m..much..” I moaned out, I didn’t even notice the tears that were rolling down my face atop the pillows. I could feel his thrust getting uneven “Please..!”

“You can k-keep it in, just a few more..” he panted, chasing his release, he slowed down his hand so I wouldn’t release so soon.

A few thrusts and soon he came inside of me, the feeling of being filled up plus his hand pumping my dick immediately put me to my climax. We both panted, riding out our high from the activity. He exhaled and collapsed his body on mine due to exhaustion.

“Oof bloody hell are you heavy.” I stated, he chuckled tickling my neck

“How was it?..” he asked after moving a little so I can breath, his arms were wrapped around my waist

“It’s scary how you know my body so well despite this being the first time you’re exploring it..” I admitted “You were great.”

“Glad to know..” he muttered, burrying his face onto my neck even more

Silence engulfed the room..

“How am I supposed to explain my neighbors about these bite marks and hickeys littered all around my neck. I swear you did this on purpose didn’t you.” I slapped his head weakly to which he laughed and hugged me tighter

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault you had a pretty neck, I couldn’t help it!” He stated

“Oh so that’s my fault?!” I laughed

Yeah I’m definitely gonna get used to this now..

[gojossocks]

“Ryo, do you love me?” you say teasingly, lifting your head from his chest to meet his eyes. 

He responds with a huff, a mixture of irritation and affection.  “Of course I do, brat. Why else do you think we're together?” 

“But will you feel the same after a decade?” you questioned, still carrying that teasing voice.“or even more?”

He knew that during times like this, you weren’t jesting. He knows you like the back of his hand and sometimes it surprises him that your brain can’t comprehend how much he loves you. 

“I’m not sure, Y/N.” he admits, his voice gone soft.  “I’m not sure if I can answer that.”

Silence engulfs the both of you and in every moment that passes, you suddenly feel bare and vulnerable right in front of him. Your disappointment is evident as you attempt to give him a smile. “well if that’s the case—” 

Before you can finish your sentence, Sukuna playfully flicks your forehead, a warm smile graces his lips. He grins even wider when you pout at him.  

“What I do know,” He continues, entwining his fingers with yours. “is that I’ll choose you.”

He didn’t say anything more, prompting to run his hands comfortingly along your back. But a smirk adorned his face when you looked at him with a quizzical expression, perplexed.  “What do you think of me? I don’t just rely on mere feelings.” 

An amused laugh escapes him when you continue to stare at him, urging him to fully spell it out for you. 

“I don’t love you just because I feel that I do. I love you because I choose to. I choose you all the time, Y/N. Despite whatever shitty situations that would happen to us for the next decade. I love you, I do. Hell, I can’t even spend an entire week without seeing your dumb face. How else would I manage, doll?” 

A smile finds its way to your face and he suddenly feels like he can breathe again. His love for you is gnawing at his ice cold exterior, and with your warmth, he would burn the entire world for you if you asked him to. But he won’t say that to your face, of course. 

“Sooo," you teased him, pointing at his sturdy chest.  “ Are you saying you’re gonna choose to be down bad for me even after a decade?”

"Shut up." Sukuna grumbles, rolling his eyes— his attempt at nonchalance betrayed by the subtle warmth in his gaze, reserved just for you. 

Without warning, he puts you on your back with a playful force, making you squeal in response. He hovers above you and presses his lips against yours. 

Sukuna isn’t good with words— yet he tries for you.

Wanna read more?

[catch1ngmoths]

please a joost kink hc post 😭 i can’t find anyyyy

⋆.ೃ࿔*JOOSTS KINK HC LIST:･જ⁀➴

Summary: what I think joosts kinks would be + some headcannons (｀▽´)

Note: this is my first time doing somthing like this so tell me if this is too much and or if I should take it down!! ^_^

Warnings: litterally just straight and utter smut so if that’s something that makes you uncomfortable click away!!

† ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

꩜ SIZE KINK; I feel like he would love a partner that is smaller in size then him. Which isn’t hard since this mf is literally like 6,3 in feet.

- “N-Ngh~ Joost…ts’too much..can’t take it” you whimper as you feel him push into you, he was a lot larger then you in size and hight but seeing you barely able to fit his length burned something inside him. “You can. And you will, now shut up and take it” he’d say back with a sadistic chuckle

꩜ DEGRADATION + PRAISE; I think Joost would like to mix the two together while fucking you. Saying the most dirty things in the sweetest way possible.

- “ha…such a dirty little thing…taking me so well. God your go good for me, taking it all like the dirty baby you are huh..?” He would mutter as he looks down at you on your knees, stroking your cheek affectionately

꩜ HAIR PULLING; I think Joost would love getting his hair pulled, your always running your hands through his hair through the day so feeling you tug on his hair in THIS atmosphere was something he treasures

- as he thrusts into you groaning into your neck you grab onto anything you can, that thing being his hair. As soon as he feels you tug on his hair he bites down onto your neck, not enough to hurt you of course but…yk. His thrusts become harsher, causing you to pull harder. This makes him grin

꩜ BRAT TAMING; sometimes whenever your being a bratty he knows just how to put you back in your place, fucking you stupid so you have no thoughts in your head to make those snarky remarks anymore (he secretly loves them tho)

- you smarted off to Joost earlier which ended up in you face down and ass up, your poor cunt being abused. You were so overstimulated but he didn’t stop. Everytime you were close he would stop his movements making you choke out a pathetic sob that was like music to his ears. By the end of it you’d be nothing but a little thing at his mercy.

꩜ DACRYPHILIA; seeing you cry during sex (CONSENSUALLY AND NOT IN PAIN) would literally make him go feral, especially if you’re begging since he won’t give you what you want. Bringing you to tears that made him just wanna ruin you

- Tears stain your cheeks as Joost hits that certain spot that makes you see stars, “right there…right there a-ah~” you cry, your tears leaving wet spots on the pillow below your head, making Joost groan and go even harder on you

꩜ SLAPPING; this one’s complicated because I feel like he’d NEVER slap your face. He loves you too much and takes that as way too far and as disrespectful. I’m taking about slaps to your thighs and ass yk?

- Joost kisses down your stomach and continues kissing down your inner thighs, causing you to instinctively clench around his head. At his he snickers and spreads your legs forcefully but not before placing a harsh slap to your thigh, peppering kisses where the hand print started to form

OR

- your face in burrowed into the pillow, muffling your loud moans as Joost fucks into you from behind. Before you can even comprehend what happened you feel a stinging pain on your ass. You yelp and moan louder into the pillow. His soft fingertips lovingly run over the hand print, soothing the red stinging and chuckling

† ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

Note: AHHH OKAY SO AGAIN THAT WAS MY FIRST TIME DOING SOMTHING LIKE THIS SO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF I SHOULD TAKE THIS DOWN OR IF ITS GOOD (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[zepskies]

Hii! Could I request Soldier boys reaction to his gf slapping his ass 😭😭 like he's just walks by her in the comfort of their own home and she just... does it

🤣🥴 LMFAO. Bless you for this ask, my dear. It turned into a full on "imagine" scene instead of just bullet points. (And I think you sent me another imagine! I'll work on that one next. 😘)

Here we go…

Word Count: 550

Imagine: Repaying him for a job well done.

He was just standing there, doing the dishes.

You didn’t know why you liked it so much. You had cooked, so it was only fair that he cleaned up the kitchen. (Or such was one of the ground rules you'd set when you two moved in together.)

Maybe it was because he was actually following said rule. Maybe it was because your boyfriend was washing a damn dish without you asking.

Maybe it was the exquisite ratio of broad shoulders, straining under his simple shirt, to a tapered waist and a pinnacle of strong, jean-clad legs.

“Hey, you got any dishes over there?” Ben called to you, over his shoulder.

You took that moment to drain the last of your wine glass with one bracing sip.

“Yep,” you said, popping the “P.”

But when you didn’t join him in the kitchen, Ben finally looked over at you. His brow shot up when you raised the glass, twirling it around from your recline on the living room couch.  

“You really expect me to go over there and get it?” he said.

“Please?” You wiggled your bare toes on the couch and held onto your throw blanket. “My lower back hurts…you know, from all those hours I put into making a loving, home-cooked meal.”

Ben shot you a look of annoyance. You gave him a pair of imploring doe eyes; you both knew it was an act, but somehow, it still worked on him…most of the time.

Your mouth twitched at a smile when he finally came over to grab your glass. He plucked it out of your hand with a shake of his head. (And a look on his face that said you were lucky beyond fucking belief that he put up with you.)

So when he turned to leave, you really couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned over and gave him a nice smack on the ass for his efforts.

Ben was surprised enough to stop short. His hand flinched on reflex, actually cracking the wine glass. It was just a fraction of his super strength, but the glass soon shattered over his hand and onto the hardwood floor.

His hand was fine, of course, but his brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what the hell just happened.

You bit your lip, but a snort of amusement still escaped. Ben slowly turned to you.

“Fucking proud of yourself, are you?” he asked, with a wry raise of his brow. Still his lips threatened to curve upwards.

“A bit, yeah,” you admitted. Your little smirk made his green eyes narrow.

“Okay,” he nodded. Then he turned and swiftly yanked the throw blanket off your body, before all but tackling you onto the couch.

You squealed and pushed at the iron wall of his chest, but it didn’t make a damn difference. Ben trapped you underneath him, caging your hips between his thighs, and sunk a firm hand in your hair.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was gravel and sin, and it made a pleasant tingle run down your spine. You still had the audacity to smirk in his face.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you quipped. Your nails dragged down his chest teasingly, all the way to his belt.  

Ben huffed. “We’ll just fucking see, won’t we?”

He then captured you with a searing kiss that made your toes curl.

AN: I love doing these SB imagines/headcanons! 😘

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

If you prefer not to be tagged on imagines, just let me know. 😉

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @romaka344 @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @ades106 @chernayawidow @beskarfilms

[blueicequeen19]

Hint

Warnings: unprotected car creampie, oral, face fucking, hate fucking with JJ, Kook mean girl

I roll my eyes as I cross the parking lot to my Mercedes. This Pogue could not take a fucking hint. His constant flirting was on my last nerve. Sure he was cute but he was a Pogue. I had guys lining up to fuck me. I could have any guy I wanted so why waste time on this loser?

“Stop following me.” I snap, hitting the unlock button on my key fob. Why did I park at the back of the damn parking lot?

“You’ve been drinking. At least let me drive you home. Or my home.” The smile in his voice is clear and I shake my head just as I stumble in my heels over another fucking piece of gravel.

“Fuck.” I stop, reaching down to kick off these monstrosities when he’s suddenly crouching in front of me, crowding my space as he lifts my foot and starts to unfasten the straps.

“Are you always this annoying?” I grumble, using one hand on his shoulder to balance myself. The hand on my ankle is hot against my skin as he finally works the strap free and gently sits my foot down.

“Usually.” He peeks up at my under his messy blonde hair, flashing a panty dropping smile as he switches to the other foot.

“At least you’re honest.”

“Not used to that?”

“You don’t know me at all so don’t assume anything.” God he gets under my skin so badly but he doesn’t seem phased as he chuckles before raising to his full height, towering over me and dangerously close.

“I know enough.” His voice is lower, seductive even as his playful blue eyes rake down my body and back up.

“You know what’s on the outside. You don’t know what’s on the inside.” I blurt in frustration, shoving his chest but he doesn’t even budge. His lips curl into a taunting smirk.

“I want to be inside you. Does that count?” My jaw drops in surprise. This Pogue was so bold. I scoff, attempting to shove past him but pain shoots up through my feet from the gravel. It’s so sudden that I barely comprehend him scooping me in his arms until we’re moving towards my car again.

“I didn’t need your help.” I grumble, my heels dangling from one hand as I wrap the other around his neck.

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

“Oh so you’re not going to use this as a way to gain a sexual favor?” I narrowed my eyes at him as a bright smile formed across his face, his boots crunching along the gravel.

“I won’t say no to a blow job.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You can sit on my face if you don’t feel like standing.” A laugh burst from me and I quickly looked away, his smile practically blinding as we came up on my car.

“You can put me down now.” I muttered awkwardly as he pulled the drivers door open.

“Eager to get home?” He lowered me so that my toes rested on his boots, keeping me from hurting my feet. The move felt intimate with how tightly our bodies were pressed together and I struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Why do you care? This is never going to happen.” I snap, his eyes widening for a moment before he schools his features. Anger I could deal with. Anything soft was off the table.

“I’m not going to sleep with you. Not just because you’re a filthy Pogue but because you’re probably some vanilla pretty boy and that’s not my thing. You probably like sweet words and taking your time but I like to be fucked. So take the hint.” My heart races with my outburst, my cheeks red with anger but I can’t help the sudden panic from the look in his eyes. He looked pissed but also wanted to eat me alive. Like he wanted to give me exactly what I said I wanted.

“Take the hint, huh?” His voice is low in warning, raising the hair on my neck like I’m being stalked by a predator. Suddenly he jerks open my passenger door and shoves me in the back seat by the back of my neck.

“What the—.” The door shuts and he’s manhandling me onto my knees, yanking my dress up to bare myself to him.

“You want to be fucked? I’ll show you how we Pogues like to fuck.” I nearly moan at his words, my body already on board with whatever he has planned. His fingers cup my sex, teasing my folds over my thong before yanking it down my thighs.

“Don’t you dare.” I gasp, still hanging on to the need for this to be all his idea. He slaps my pussy, making me squeal in pain and surprise.

“Open up for me, princess.” He slaps my thighs wider apart, the flesh of his cock suddenly between my thighs and making my eyes bug out. He was fucking huge.

“So goddamn wet for a Kook Princess.” JJ taunts, rubbing his cock through my slit. Every pass over my clit made me shudder, begging to be filled. I open my mouth to do just that when he shoves his way inside, making me moan loudly as my head drops down on the leather seats.

“Shit. You better be quiet or one of your friends will find you getting fucked by a filthy Pogue.” JJ’s words are strained as his fingers bite into my hips and he starts to move. I can’t control the whimpers and mewls that leave me. He delivers on his promise, fucking me hard and fast. I don’t even have to demand more because he keeps up with everything my body wants without instruction.

“So hot and tight.” JJ groans, yanking me back into every hard thrust of his hips as the car rocks. His cock was so hard and deep. I could barely think or breathe until I hear a giggle in the distance. I try to jerk away but he shoves me back down, holding me in place. His pace lessens so the car doesn’t rock but he doesn’t stop fucking me as he looks around.

“Grab the door.”

“Who— is it? We have to stop.” My words come out on a whimper, my body wound so tight as I do as he says.

“Guess you’re not the only one getting fucked by a Pogue tonight.” JJ chuckles darkly, shoving me flat onto the seat and coming down on top of me. My hair is twisted in his fist as his lips find my neck. I try to listen to determine if I know the identity of the other couple but I can’t hear over the sound of JJ panting in my ear and his pelvis slamming against my ass.

“Here?” A girl hisses too close to my car for liking and I instantly recognize the voice as my two-faced Pogue hating best friend.

“Fuck, I love having you under me. Not so mouthy now, are ya?”

I hear a thump and JJ chuckles in my ear, rolling his hips so he hits that sweet spot deep inside me. I bite back a mewl, turning my head and slamming my mouth to his without even thinking. If I thought fucking him was insane then kissing was even worse. His tongue demands entrance into my mouth and I can’t stop the orgasm that barrels forward. His hand is over my mouth in the next moment, silencing me as he fucks me into the seat until I’m trembling for relief.

“What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be fucked?” I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him as I reach back to dig my nails into his thigh, with shorts still around his legs.

“Who is she fucking?” I demand in a whisper, shaking his hand off my mouth.

“Doesn’t matter.”

A cry of pleasure echos outside the car and JJ’s pace picks up. I can tell by his breathing that he’s close. He’s already lasted a lot longer than I expected.

“J—.” His nickname is a plea on my lips, the sensitivity being too much. The leather against my nipples. His weight on top of mine. His husky breathing in my ear.

“I like the thought of you driving home with me inside you. Then every time you drive this car you’ll be reminded of this. How your mouth begged for relief but your body demanded more. I can feel how close you are.” His vulgar words had my inner walls clenching, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure pulsed through me. My hips lift on their own, aching for him to reach deeper.

“I didn’t say you could cum inside me.” I growl, fighting off the orgasm that threatens to rip through me and give us away. JJ’s hand dips between my thighs to press on my clit and a choked sound leaves me as my body detonates.

“I didn’t ask.” He whispers as I cum hard, my body jerking beneath his as I bite my own arm to keep from screaming my release. A deep, sexy moan echos in my ear as he finishes inside me, fucking me slow and deep until we’re both spent and fighting to catch our breath. The windows have fogged and I can feel his sweat on my back. Minutes pass and I don’t hear the couple outside anymore so I motion for him to let me up.

“This isn’t ever happening again.” I declare, looking along the floorboard for my panties. I don’t find them and I level him with a glare as he relaxes back against the seat, his legs spread and cock still hard. I fight hard not to stare at the cum stains along his shaft.

“If you say so.” His eyes are dark as he watches me, a sexy smirk on his lips. Like someone who was awfully proud of their accomplishments. The after effects of bliss make it hard to cling to my anger, especially with him looking at me the way he is.

“Clean up your mess and I’ll go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“I heard you. I was just giving you a chance to rethink what you just said.”

A beat of tense silence stretches between us, our eyes never wavering from each others even as his cum drips out of me and onto the leather seats.

“Here, I’ll show you.” JJ lunges, wrapping his hand in my hair and yanking me over his lap. His free hand holds his hard cock firmly as he presses my head down until the smooth tip meets my lips. I grit my teeth, refusing to open but the hand in my hair tightens painfully, nearly ripping the strands out so I reluctantly open, letting him hit the back of my throat. I gag loudly, attempting to pull back but he holds me firmly, a hand sliding between my legs to stroke my slick slit. I want to shake my head or tell him I can’t take anymore but he refuses to let me up as he fucks my throat.

“More tongue, less teeth. Relax your throat.” I’m tempted to bite down, wishing I could tell him I know how to give a damn blow job. It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d stop treating me like I don’t need to breathe. But goddamn the pulsing between my legs is almost agonizing. I feel on fire.

I move my tongue so it’s dragging up and down his shaft and I feel his body tighten as he hisses through his teeth.

“That’s it.” JJ groans, his fingers relaxing slightly in my hair as I start to move with him. The hand between my legs starts to move quicker against my clit, my legs shaking as I try to finish him before he finishes me. I hum around his shaft, tears blurring my eyes as every nerve ending starts to feel on fire.

“I’m cumming.” His head hits the seat as he holds my head down, shooting down my throat as my own body is thrown into oblivion. I can barely swallow as stars line my vision and my body shakes uncontrollably. The lack of oxygen didn’t help.

Finally, he releases the hold on my hair and I slide into the floorboard on my knees, makeup burning my eyes as I look up at him. My throat was raw and my pussy was on fire but I’d never felt more sated. JJ looked as satisfied as I felt as he slowly zipped his shorts back up and wiped sweat from his brow.

“I hate you.” My voice is hoarse and I desperately needed water. I also needed to know who my best friend was fucking right outside my car.

“But you love how I felt inside you.”

“You didn’t wear a condom.”

“Hopefully you’re on something.”

“Hopefully you don’t have something.”

JJ smirks as he leans forward on his knees, eyeing me like we didn’t just have amazing orgasms together.

“I guess next time I need to fuck you harder. Take care of all that attitude.” I narrow my eyes at him until his hand is suddenly around my throat and he’s pulling me into a sizzling kiss. I moan into his mouth, twisting my fingers in his hair as our tongues collide. I’d never been a fan of kissing but his mouth was otherworldly. I kiss him harder, feeling the slight stubble along his upper lip. I nearly whimper when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting our lips.

“Next time I’m eating that tight fucking pussy until you cum all over my face. Then I’m going to tie you up and play with you until you make an absolute mess. After that I’m gonna lay back and watch as you use me to get yourself off. You’ll use me however you want me while I don’t lift a finger.” JJ kisses me again as my insides turned molten, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I’ll see you later, princess.”

Then the car door opens and is slammed in my face as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

[shawnxstyles]

personal 3

DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023

summary: as you begin to build your confidence, you try to learn some things on your own to surprise harry. you know, just as a little thank you. meanwhile, harry finally starts to think your unspoken arrangement is a little too personal.

request: yes!!

words: 6k

warnings: SMUT (m-receiving [hand-job, oral], dirty talk), language, and loads of overthinking! (will probably have angst in the next part!)

note: PLEASE tell me how you guys feel about this!! comment/reblog/send me a message! PREVIOUS PART.

bestfriendrry x inexperienced!reader

—

It’s barely been a few days since you last saw Harry in person, and quite frankly, you’ve never noticed how much time has passed until now. Until your mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of his hands on your body and his sweet, cocky words in your ear. You wanted to be sick of it, wanted it to be done and through. But your brain just could not let go of his touch. You must have released too many hormones during all that touching because time has never felt so prolonged and stretched. You have gone weeks without seeing Harry before, and although you’ve missed him in the past, you’ve never connected every little thing to him. Certain words and objects somehow prime your memory directly to Harry. Even thinking of your doll collection back at home sends shivers down your spine. He has seriously ruined you, and you hate that you don’t hate it.

After the last time with Harry, you swore it was the last time. You didn’t say it out loud but in your head. You knew that if you explicitly told Harry that that was the last time that it would be the last time and he would never touch you again. No, not unless you asked, not unless you begged. Which he would enjoy too much. What you found out was that you don’t have enough self-discipline to tell yourself no. So, it only makes sense that you’re still agonizing over his touch and how rough yet soft his hands are.

God, why are you thinking of his hands right now?

Your laptop is resting on your legs, warming you up as you try to finish your mid-term paper. At first, your fingers were flying around your keyboard, typing your ass off to submit it. But now you’re barely halfway through and you can’t even comprehend the last sentence you wrote because you keep thinking about Harry. Somehow, you managed to connect some Shakespeare poetry analysis to Harry.

Come on, how does that even happen without conscious effort?

No matter how many times you want to call up Harry and simply ask him for another “lesson” you can’t. It just feels too selfish to you now. He may have willingly offered because he felt bad for you, but now, you feel bad for him because he has to teach you. Maybe if you guys had a set time for all this you would feel less guilty. A schedule, just like your lectures! Then it would be like a real class.

You would never skip.

But you do recall the last thought that you had when you were with him. Would it really be so bad to learn the giving side of sex? Isn’t that the main reason why Harry is teaching you? Firstly, he wants you to understand your own body, which you feel pretty confident with after his sweet praises and words. Oh, and you won’t forget how he made you stare at yourself (or really him) in a full-body length mirror the first time. Yeah, that definitely still gives you chills. And a newly-found level of self-esteem, which is why you feel confident enough in your decision.

You’re going to do a bit of research on your end of the deal. A deal that is unspoken, so therefore, has non-existent rules. You and Harry never specified if you could pleasure him, but you would be getting the experience you needed, so what is the harm? It is in the unspoken rules. So, you’re going to surprise him with what you’ve learned.

After you finish your paper, of course.

Ugh.

–

Watching a variety of porn videos was extremely weird because you were watching them for a different reason than what they are made for.

Your eyes were straining at your laptop screen as you carefully inspected all the women’s actions. Sometimes, they would unbutton the man’s pants, sometimes they wouldn’t, but they always sank to their knees with their eyes on him. The women spit on their hands and stroke gently, or they would just put their mouth straight on him. It caused you to blink and swallow in fear because what if you didn’t like it? What if it tasted so horrible that you’ll never want to suck another man off in your life? What if your lack of blow-jobs is the reason you don’t have a boyfriend? Or why you don’t have a future husband in the running?

This is why you cannot be left alone.

From all the women you observed, they all had seductive expressions and alluring features that you were almost positive you did not possess. They had the most perfect bodies and that effortlessly flowing hair and cute little moans and they knew exactly what to do. It may not be the best thing to base anything off of, but you couldn’t help but feel a little insecure. Watching the videos gave you a little more knowledge, but also made you feel a little more self-conscious about your appearance. What if Harry didn’t even find you attractive? He definitely doesn’t want some girl mindlessly messing with his dick, especially when it’s not erect (which you have learned in health class in high school thankfully). All those words of reassurement and praise, were they just for the moment? Just to make you feel good and that’s it? Did he mean any of it? You couldn’t even manipulate yourself to an answer.

God, sometimes, you just wish that he would reach out to you. Wouldn’t that make everything so much easier? You would never say no if he just texted you first. But why would he do that? He’s doing you the favor, so you would have to be the one to text him. Fuck, how did he go from your best friend to your best friend that you’re obsessing over because he’s really good at sexual things? Maybe he hypnotized you in that mirror.

–

Harry thinks he might just die. Not from school or work, but from you. Out of all his friendships in his lifetime, even his relationships, he has never been thinking about a person so damn much.

He’s been friends with you for many, many years, and Harry has never once thought of you in a sexual manner. Or even in a romantic way. When you two were growing up, he definitely noticed you having some changes through your teenage years as teenagers do. But even then he always knew you were just friends. And that’s all it will ever be, so he never saw through that wall. Men are simple creatures; Harry realized you guys were friends, so that was it. End of story.

But for some reason, years later, he is being haunted by your sudden attractiveness? Harry’s not fucking stupid when he thinks this. You’ve always been gorgeous and funny and smart, so it made perfect sense why you didn’t have a boyfriend. You just checked too many boxes, right? The only possible solution of why men weren’t kissing your feet had to be because of your own expectations.

You’ve always been the kind of girl who thought every little thing to the tee. Harry even remembers you planning your wedding with your dolls when you were younger. You had a binder with all the people you would invite and colors that would decorate the walls of the church your parents got married in. Getting married in a church may seem basic to anyone else, but to you it was special because your grandmother also got married there. To you, it was a tradition, and Harry knows you love traditions and schedules. It’s like a plan that’s set in stone for you to complete. He just knows when you get married you’ll have the most thoughtful wedding because you would have put your heart into every single detail. You’re barely 22, finishing up your last year of college just like Harry, so you still have plenty of time to find your future husband.

Yet you think it’s the end of the world that you don’t have one in the running right now, and Harry has no idea why.

Thinking of the future like this used to make Harry feel happy for you because he knows it’s one of your biggest dreams, but there is something inside of him that’s blocking him from feeling like that anymore. It’s a nagging, sort of distant feeling in his chest that kind of makes him ill. He always knew he was going to be at your wedding in some form, but maybe he wishes it was…

No, that’s ridiculous. How did he overthink that much?

See? You’ve seriously fucked him up. This is exactly why he cannot text you. This is exactly why he cannot touch you anymore. No matter how badly he wants to. God, does he want to. You haunted his mind and invaded his soul until you were completely entwined within his consciousness, lingering like a flashbulb memory. He pitied you at first, so he wanted to help his best friend with her inexperience. That’s what friends are there for–to help you through the embarrassing times in secret, so when you go out into the real world it’s not so bad.

But now, Harry just wants to keep you for himself. He hates touching you knowing that it’s going to be for someone else one day. But he got too greedy to say no to himself, so he put you on his thigh the second day rather than fingering you. Fuck, he wishes he could slide his cock into you while whispering the sweetest and dirtiest words in your ear, just for your face to burn up in flames. He wants to hear your soft moans echo in the air from his cock because you want to be with him, not because you’re trying to “get better” at sex.

No, Harry doesn’t think he can do anything more with you without figuring his shit out.

–

Incoming call: Y/N

Harry wanted to answer it, but he hesitated too long. Fuck, what if you really just wanted to hang out this time? But fuck, he missed your touch. And your voice. And your face… How is he supposed to be around you without reaching out to caress you?

Missed call: Y/N

Voicemail: Y/N: “Hey, I just called to see what you were up to. I was just seein’ if you wanted to hang out. But clearly you’re busy, so it’s fine. I, um, have a surprise that I wanted to show you sometime. I… Well, I’ve been trying to learn some things on my own, if you know what I mean. I’ve been watching some videos, but you know, nothing is as good as a real life teacher! So, um, just call me back whenever you’re free. Bye!”

Harry was royally fucked. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about what you might have been learning about. You were also so cute in your voicemail that Harry just had to save it. He doesn’t think he’s ever saved someone’s voicemail before, but he’s never been more thankful for letting that call go to one. He took a single deep breath before he pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Doll. Sorry, I was in the shower…”

Now he has to rush to take a shower as you drive over to his house to present him with your little “surprise.”

–

As Harry stood up from his couch to answer the door, he regrets not jerking off in the shower.

He had an incredible hard-on, and it was embarrassingly from the voicemail. He was a little too excited for whatever your surprise was. You gave him no hint, but he’s assuming it has something to do with masturbating.

“Harry,” Your voice was chipper as you greeted him almost formally. But it was a little too high and squeaky. It was obvious to Harry that you were nervous, which made him feel a bit better in a way. You didn’t seem as distressed as you last had been, so maybe you did learn to get yourself off. Then you wouldn’t need him anymore.

That was the goal, right?

“Y/N,” he says as he widens the door and lets you in. You scurry past him and onto his couch, immediately heating up at the memory from before.

You swallowed the dryness that drained your voice, deciding how to bring it up to him. You take a deep breath and remember the confidence that he’s been trying to instill in you. You recall all the videos you’ve been researching and how assertive all those women had been. While you do so, Harry follows you to the couch and plops right down next to you.

If you hadn’t been so nervous yourself, maybe you would have seen how shifty Harry was. His eyes were darting all around, trying to look busy. His mind was scouring thoughts of things to say, but couldn’t settle on the right one. Maybe you’d see that he swallowed all the saliva in his mouth until his tongue was dry and he was biting his lip. Only then did you look up from your shivering fingers to see his bottom lip anxiously tucked between his bunny teeth.

“I wanted to talk about our…deal,” You started, tucking your calves underneath your body. Harry nods, but doesn’t say anything. “We never explicitly stated any details of what this contract entailed–”

“English, please, Y/N. You get all formal and chatty when y’nervous.”

Your skin heated, embarrassed. “Right… We never talked about what we were doing. So, if what I’m about to ask breaks some unspoken rule, just let me know. If you actually want to stop doing this, also let me know–”

“Just say it, Y/N.”

“I’ve been watching videos on how to pleasure you…” You speedily say, causing the room to go silent. You feel the heat from in between your legs grow whilst also flowing towards your neck and face. You wonder how hot a human can get before they just boil over and explode. Harry’s seemingly nonchalant face grows a smirk, which is comfortable to you now. “God, you’re a dick.”

After your mumble, you continue: “I felt… bad that you were doing everything. And I just thought that maybe I could learn something from this. And you could be… rewarded in a way.”

“So you’ve been learning what exactly?” His smirk never fades. Of course he wants you to be explicit with him, which you struggle with. He just loves making you nervous. He feeds off of it.

He’s selfish. He’s so selfish and he can’t control it. When he’s with you, it’s like driving a car without its brakes. He speeds right through all the stop signs without blinking twice.

Just one last time, he swears. Then he’s ending it.

“C’mon. Would it be easier to tell me or show me, hmm?” You swear his voice dropped an octave, just like your eyes dropped to the area on his sweatpants. There was a lump that you can’t recall being there before. Were you looking?

You took a deep breath and kept it there, unable to breathe normally at how straightforward Harry is. He’s always been like that, never changed. So why is he just now making you breathless?

Confidence.

“Okay.”

You move your eyes up to meet Harry, and he’s already looking at you. You feel your heart jump at his sudden stare, strikingly green and beaming with lust. Without removing your sight from him, you shift yourself off the couch and onto his carpet.

His eyebrows slightly raise as you hesitantly reach for the waistband of his pants. He’s enjoying this too much, he thinks.

“Go on. I want to see what you can do,” his simple words urged you to actually grab his sweatpants. As he lifts his hips, you yank the material down until his boxers are showing.

“Huh,” The noise left your mouth before you could stop it. Harry stares at you puzzled, blinking at you curiously. That’s the first time a girl has ever made that noise in front of him before. In this position especially…

“What?” Harry has never felt more self-conscious than right now. He was alright until you made that sound. That’s never something a guy wants to hear when a girl is on her knees in front of him.

“Nothing, I just took you as more of a ‘briefs’ guy.” Harry instantly felt more relieved.

“I’ave both. Haven’t y’borrowed my boxers before?” he asks. Your eyes widen as you look down. Maybe you have in the past, but the thought of that now sounds incredibly too intimate to you. Yeah, you’ll never be doing that again.

“Anyway,” You smiled forcefully while trying to rid the heat from your cheeks, “before I pull down your boxers, I have to ask you something.”

“Of course,” he agrees with sarcasm laced in his tone, which only makes you roll your eyes. You’re inches away from his cock, merely separated by a sheer layer of clothing and you have a question. He can bet it’s not going to be can I take this off now?.

“Do you find me attractive?” You had to ask. You bit the inside of your cheek, chewing on the nerves that you felt. Harry just stares at you, blinking. You always find a way to catch him off guard, he thinks. He doesn’t say a word, just two eyes lasering into yours as if he’s searching for the perfect answer. “It’s a simple yes or no. But if it’s a no, then I don’t want to do this. Because then you’ll be all-all soft in my hands or my mouth and then you’ll just be uncomfortable. Guys must not like it when they’re soft, right? You have to be hard, it means you like it… Right?”

When you got nervous, you got chatty. It was one of your most evident qualities. You had to fill the silence that Harry had created with his nonexistent answer.

Harry wishes that was a simple yes or no. Of course, he found you attractive, so yes. But only now are those feelings becoming more complicated, diverging from anything ‘simple’. It would feel like crossing a line if he said yes.

But Harry was great at brushing it off.

“Y’right. So why don’t y’pull these down and see for yourself, Doll?”

Your posture had been stick-straight and stiff unknowingly. But his hot words had your icicle-like spine melting in seconds, shivers cascading down your back like an avalanche.

You swallowed for what felt like the hundredth time since you’ve been here. You shifted on your legs on the ground, trying to get comfortable. You remind yourself that you are going to be confident and show Harry exactly what you have been learning. It should be simple. You should be able to do it without feeling all these emotions.

But it seems so hard when it’s Harry that’s tied to them.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull them down. When the material is at his ankles, you finally acknowledge the hard length that sprung from beneath them. His cock was nothing like those porn videos. It wasn’t abnormally monstrous with loads of veins on the sides that looked impossible to fit into any hole. It wasn’t ugly and unappealing. Just the sight of his length alone made you want to touch him. Made you want to put your mouth on him…

You never thought you’d want to do that with anyone ever. You never thought you’d be attracted to that because of those unsettling videos. But of course, Harry is throwing you off, making reality much more fantastical and dreamy than it really is. How does he do such a thing?

You know whoever you fall in love with will not have a cock like this.

His tip was a dark pink with a smidge of wetness at the top. He only had one prominent vein that ran down the left side that was throbbing from neglect. You didn’t even notice your mouth watering, salivating as if you were classically conditioned.

“Does that answer y’question, Doll?” Harry was trying his very hardest not to stroke himself. Better yet, to come. The doe-eyed expression on your face was priceless and would forever be framed in his mind. The glossy, wondrous glint in your eyes screamed lust and anticipation. You seemed excited, but Harry could never be sure because he still feels a tad vulnerable. He’s never felt so revealed before.

He guesses with you it would have always been different no matter what. Because it’s you.

“Yes,” Your voice was quiet as you placed your hands beside his thighs. You were unbelievably nervous now. You were trying to recall what the videos did at this point in your head, but you lost your train of thought. You were literally entranced by his dick. Also something you never thought would happen.

“D’you know what happens now? Or do y’need some help?” he taunts, subtly squinting his eyes as he leans the slightest bit forward. He’s attempting to ignore the throbbing of his cock as you lock your stare into his eyes. It twitches, but he continues to neglect it. He thinks that if and when you decide to touch him, he will come on the spot.

“I know what to do, Harold.”

“Then do it, sweetheart.”

You repeat his words back to him, mocking his tone before spitting on your hands aggressively. Once you feel like they’re not as dry, you put one hand on him without hesitation. His taunting tone fueled you with more confidence than you would have thought. Your legs were tightly squeezed together, so you didn’t have to worry about the tingle that slowly began to throb between them.

Harry hissed lowly, followed by a gentle growl at your touch. Your hands were colder than he had thought, catching him by surprise.

“Holy shit, your hands are freezin’. How did I not feel tha’?”

“Shut up,” You grumbled as you continued to stroke him roughly, not really paying attention if it felt good. You’re annoyed with him because his dick is so perfect, and he’s trying to rush you.

“Hey,” his finger goes beneath your chin and forces your eyes away from his cock. You look into his eyes with a serious pout on your face. He wants to believe you’re truly mad, but he knows you, and he knows that you’re not. You’re secretly frustrated because you don’t know what to do now that you’re actually in the situation. And he knows you hate not knowing what to do. “You’re on your knees for me. Don’t forget where y’are. Now, show me what ya learned, pretty girl.”

His words never failed to make you dizzy. He might as well have put you on the teacups ride and then spun you in a circle. His finger was grazing your chin, and you felt as if you could melt in a puddle before him. He had you weak. He made you want to say yes, sir and obey his every command. Every drop of feminism left your body at his very words, your body going all in.

“Yes,” The s sounded slurred because the word sir nearly fell from your lips. It felt automatic, it felt right. But you didn’t want to cross any boundaries that you guys failed to cover.

Your hands continued to move up and down his length, feeling more comfortable with him in your hand.

“Can I…” You leaned forward, your mouth nearing his cock. He was leaking more than before and his tip was pulsing red. You didn’t even wait for his answer because you knew you already had his consent to do whatever you wanted.

Your mouth dropped down to his cock, sucking on just the tip. Harry doesn’t hold back his moan as it echoes throughout his living room, bouncing off his walls. You don’t move yourself any lower. You just swirl your tongue around the rutty tip and consume all of his juices. The taste wasn’t bad. Maybe a little salty, but it was nothing like you would have assumed. In a way, it was a little addicting. You had hoped that’s what cum tastes like, and you hoped that you would taste his.

Was that a weird thing to hope for?

“Fuck, Y/N,” Harry grumbled as his large hand slotted in your hair, in need of some stability. You didn’t mind, instantly loving the feeling of his hand on you. He didn’t pull or tug you, but just kept you in place. Almost as if he didn’t want you to go any lower in fear of you choking.

“Use y’hands for the rest,” Even with his eyes half shut, he was still able to instruct you on your technique. While his hand was strong, you went lower onto his cock, taking more into your mouth than before. The weight of his tip on your tongue was heavy and hot, but it didn’t stop you from slowly moving it in and out. Your hands eventually found a rhythm with your mouth, understanding speed and pace.

The louder Harry’s sounds got, whether they were breaths or moans or growls, hinted that you were in the right direction. You knew technique and skill was all learned from experience, but also being attentive to your partner. When Harry was pleasuring you, he always listened to you. Almost too well. Even just after a few sessions, he knew what got you off the fastest better than you ever did (obviously).

“Doin’ so good, Doll,” his fingers curled in your hair and you released some type of moan around his cock. The sound vibrated throughout his body, sending a shock to his core. “Gettin’ off on this, huh? ‘Course y’are. Just desperate for whateva you can get.”

Harry was completely right. Your clit was throbbing in your underwear and your nipples were beyond their peaks. But you didn’t seem as hopeless as you usually are because you finally had a reasonable distraction. Your neck was beginning to ache as your jaw felt like it was about to lock. But your hands never stopped, and your tongue continued to explore his circumference, even after swirling around it a million times.

Harry had been holding off for too long. He twitched every time he thought he was about to come, attempting to make it fade. But your mouth was just so warm, so wet, and so, so desperate to be filled, it was impossible to stay calm.

“D’ya want me to come, baby? Huh? Want me to come down your pretty, little throat? Gonna swallow it like the good girl you are, right? It’s the last step,” Harry was nearly choked from the way you moved on his cock. Yes, you were sloppy, but you were determined.

He could feel your nod along with the halt of your hands. You rested your hands on his bare thighs, clawing gently at the tiger tattoo. To his shock, your mouth went as deep as you could go, his tip nudging the back of your throat. He felt your gag, which he had expected for how fast you went down on him. Just as he was about to pull out of you completely though, you persevered, which made him go over the edge.

Before he knew it, his orgasm was spurting down your throat, coating your tongue. When he was all empty, you finally pushed him off of you to catch a breath. Harry was still in shock. He did not expect you to exceed your own limits and swallow all of him without hesitation. You have always had a good work ethic, though.

“Holy fuck, baby, are you okay?” Now, his hands grab your aching jaw in concern, pulling you up to sit on the couch. You didn’t realize how much your knees were going to hurt, but now that you’re up, all you are is achy.

The pet name made your skin hotter than it already was, wondering if he realized what he had just called you. Maybe it was an accident, but it had your heart accelerating at a speed that did not seem remotely healthy.

“Y-Yeah,” You croaked out, throat immensely dry. Harry quickly puts his boxers and pants back on before leaving to the kitchen. You’re left on his couch in shock while you rub your aching jaw.

Harry’s back with some water that you chug without thought. He can’t help but chuckle a little at your nature. He observes you doing a simple task, drinking water for your parched throat. But even with the mundane action, he’s somehow in awe. When you seem finished, you put the glass down and look at him.

“Well, that was difficult,” You sigh, leaning back on the couch. You believe that if you just pretend that what you’re feeling is normal then everything is normal. Harry’s concern for you still echoes in your head; the word baby is never going to be the same.

“I bet,” Harry’s response was dry, but only because he feels like he has to.

“Was it… horrible?” You asked, cringing in fear of his response. You know Harry’s going to be only honest, which means he could be brutal.

It felt way too fucking good for your first time and made me see you in a way I’ve never seen you before is what Harry wanted to say. But he settled with, “It was fine, Doll.”

“That’s it? Oh, c’mon! Give me something honest. I need to learn, don’t I?” You sounded like a little child. Harry rolled his eyes as you scooted closer to him on the couch. He swallowed at the proximity, which you didn’t bat an eyelash at. “C’monnnn.”

Truth be told, your heart was still racing, but you were too immersed in how off-put Harry seemed. You liked that he didn’t have some charming, witty comment hanging off the tip of his tongue. It was enjoyable to watch him get a little nervous.

“Don’t be so stiff,” his arm falls on the back of the couch, “probably why y’neck hurts so bad.”

“Pfft. My neck does not hurt,” You bluffed as you rolled your eyes, avoiding eye contact. Harry knows you too well, though, and didn’t believe you for a sliver of a second.

“Really.”

“Mhm.”

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, absorbing its warmth. It was almost embarrassing how hot your neck was, flush with the aftermath of sucking him off. You won’t lie and say that it wasn’t attractive. You won’t lie and say that you didn’t get off on it. Everything that Harry had said had been true. It was evident that you were turned on by pleasuring him, just like he you.

You swallowed with his hand caressing your neck. His soft touch slowly turned into a gentle massage, squeezing the aching muscles between his fingers. You couldn’t stop the whispered moan that left your mouth at the relief. The slight roughness from his callouses was doing wonders to the soreness at the base of your neck. Your eyes had shut now, fully encompassed with his hand rubbing your skin.

If it didn’t feel so good, maybe you would worry about how this is too intimate and you too were way too close. But his touch wasn’t as electrifying as it was calming right now, soothing you until your mind’s thoughts were lulled asleep. You were amazed at how his hands could be both. You felt your shoulders drop in peace, teeth pillowing into your lips.

You weren’t conscious of all your movements, but each made Harry go mad. His touch was simple and light, but he could see it really relaxed you. Maybe you weren’t just sore from this, but from school as well. Sometimes, Harry felt like he hadn't talked to you as much because you too were so busy doing… this.

You guys lost time to just being friends.

Maybe Harry was too in his head, but he hated that. He hated that you hadn’t been texting him as often or even coming over as much. Every time you did now, it only had to do with sex. Don’t get him wrong, he loves that, but with you, it’s always more. It’s always been more. And he hates that there’s no ‘more’ anymore.

Should you two stop doing this? Harry already feels guilty enough. He feels selfish because he wants you in ways he knows he can’t have you, so why is he tempting himself? Each time you come over he knows what you want and he selfishly gives it to you because he convinces he’s doing you a favor. At first, he innocently was. But now, he doesn’t see you as a friend as much as something more. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to back petal his way back into a comfortable friendship with you as long as this continues. Losing his best friend because he was horny and thoughtless is unreasonable to him. That’s what it is, he concludes. That he is just horny, and he’s thinking with his dick.

But there’s a certain pattern of his heart that continues to beat your name in a rhythm that’s new and unfamiliar to Harry.

It feels like a crossed line, a boundary overstepped. If he were to officially cross the line, you would have your back turned on him unknowingly because there is no way you feel the way he’s feeling. He fears he is subconsciously trespassing an area of your friendship with these feelings that are bubbling in his chest. It’s hard for him to say he’s just a horny college boy when it comes to you, but that’s all he’s got.

Harry was so caught up in his head, he hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Your face looked beyond serene, basking in the warmth and comfort of his hands. But Harry felt guilty. He couldn’t stop feeling selfish for touching you, even if it’s what you wanted. You don’t know his intentions, so each massage on your muscles feels wrong.

Suddenly, Harry removes his hands off of your shoulders and your eyes peel open. You sigh with a gentle smile on your face, very thankful for the time he put into massaging your neck.

“Thank you. I guess my neck did hurt a little–”

“I, um, actually forgot I have work,” Harry blurts as he removes his hand from your neck entirely. Your smile fades as you shake your head. His words brought you back to reality instantly, taking you away from your sweet serenity. One where his hands are on you all the time, lulling you to sleep whenever you’re stressed. It was a great daydream, truly.

“Oh. Yeah. Did you say that before?”

“Don’t know. Must have slipped my mind. Sorry,” His responses were short and clipped, a tell that something was up.

“Hey,” You stopped him from getting off the couch. The worry laced in your voice seemed to slow him down. “What just happened?”

With anyone else, he would ask what do you mean? as if the other person was stupid. But he knew you weren’t stupid, and you knew exactly what was going on. Something had changed within that moment and you weren’t just going to have him kick you out because he had some random thought.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. M’sorry,” he sighs, shoulder drooping.

You no longer felt serenity as the words fell from his lips. It’s always your best friends that know where it especially hurts. Right after you have done something vulnerable he drops that shit on you. Unbelievable.

This is why people should never do sexual shit with their best friends. Or better yet, any of their friends. It’s just way too complicated. It can never be as simple as a favor.

No, it’s way too fucking personal.

—

AHHH HOW DO WE FEEL??

taglist: @whoreonmondays @armystay89 @meighasfangirldiary @icumforbaldrry @luvonstyles @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach

crossed out= not able to tag

[ruskaroma]

thinking of pissing john wick off so fucking bad that he fucks you into the fucking wall🤤🤤 he’d been so patient with you, but you just kept pushing his buttons so here you are, his hand clamped over your mouth as he fucks you full of his cum….

everybody pull up a chair cuz we are going to have a talk.

john wick is a soft dom. that’s up to no debate. he could be a mean dom sometimes, but that rarely happens. but the point still stands.

john wick is a soft dom.

and of course, a soft dom would be incomplete without a bratty sub.

john doesn’t like it when you talk back, but during this time you’re feeling a bit naughty. a simple denial from john ruined your entire day, and so of course it’s your job to ruin his too.

he has been on the edge all day long since morning because of your constant backtalk. the snarky little remarks. the murmurs you’d say that he wouldn’t hear just to rile him up even more.

john tries to talk the brattiness out of you, but unfortunately for him, he might have to do it the hard way.

he had just come back from work when you immediately bombarded him with your attitude. still dressed in his work attire and you in your pajamas, john thinks this is the perfect time to strike.

as he stands in front of you in the living room, your mouth immediately snaps shut when a large hand comes slapping your cheek. it’s not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get some senses in your brain and tell yourself that you’re absolutely fucked.

literally.

a yelp leaves your mouth as you touch the spot he slapped, but when you look at him, he’s staring straight back at you challengingly.

“got any more to say, brat?”

your lips wobble. it’s not always mean john comes to play, but when he does, it scares the living shit out of you. not only because he’s mean MEAN, but also because that means there’s a 99% chance that you won’t be able to sit properly for weeks.

“d-daddy–”

“now you want daddy?” he mocks, then gripping your jaw with one hand and forces you to look at him. “daddy has been real patient with his little girl all day long, but you just won’t fucking listen to a word daddy says, don’t you?”

you’re half scared, half horny. john is fucking seething. he must be so pissed at you that he even cussed.

“d-daddy, ow, you’re hurting me–” you try to move away from his grip, but that only leads you to being slammed against the wall as john forcefully pulls your pants down along with your panties, revealing your wet cunny that’s already dripping from this whole thing. “d-daddy–”

“this must be what you fucking wanted then. for daddy to be pissed at you.” he roughly unbuckles his belt and pulls his already hard cock out, not giving you enough time to comprehend what’s truly happening when he’s already pushing his fat cock inside your little pussy, stretching it open and making you scream. “now you’re crying, can’t form a single fucking word. what happened to that bratty little girl earlier that won’t stop running her mouth, hm? you got anything to say?”

your legs are wrapped around his waist as you sob hysterically on his shoulder, ruining his perfectly good black suit. your shared wetness is dripping down the floor as his heavy balls slap against your ass.

you clench around his dick, babbling incoherent pleas for him to slow down, but all you receive is another slap on the cheek.

“shut your mouth and take it. don’t make me shove my cock so far down your throat you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks.”

[sweetstars-posts]

SKINNY,

M. STURNIOLO x FEM!SINGER!READER

(if you don't want to be a singer, it could be anything in the public eye, it’s only mentioned a little!!)

WARNINGS — mentions of eating disorders, depression, anxiety, ALSO pet names (bc apparently that triggers ppl or smth).

a/n — this is a deep story based on billie eilish’s new song, skinny. as someone who faces troubles with eating, i wanted to make this for me and for those who need it <3

word count — 1.5k

(not proofread)

The rain is hitting the glass of my bay window as you stare helplessly out of it. The window opened a crack; the smell of fresh rain wafting into your room.

Your eyes are dull and lifeless — like you’re waiting for something that won't ever arrive. There's an aching feeling in your stomach, one that isn’t just nerves.

Your body ached as you haven’t moved from the soft plush cushions of the bay window for a couple hours.

Nothing in life felt appealing right now. The constant bodyshamming from the public eye got you back into a seemingly never-ending spiral.

People only seem to like you if you’re skinny. Eating was always a struggle, but now it almost feels like a game. Competing with yourself over and over again for trying to reach a certain weight goal that you won’t realistically achieve.

Everyone keeps saying you’re happier now. But are you? No. Complete sadness overtook you, but it was okay, because now you’re skinny.

But you also felt guilty.

You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend Matt in a couple days. You’ve been dating for 3 years and he knows every single thing about you. You still don’t have the energy to get up and try to find your phone which is nowhere to be found at the moment.

But knowing Matt, he probably knows what’s happening again. This seems to always happen. It’s like a record player that keeps repeating and repeating until the vinyl slowly starts to scratch and warp.

Your eyes falter slightly but they never seem to fully close. It’s like they can’t.

Your mind is racing 20 miles per hour but you can’t seem to comprehend a single word going through your brain.

The phone rings, the sound coming from somewhere in the mess of sheets on your bed.

A little while has passed and your phone still hasn't stopped. The obnoxious ringing made you even more aggravated. Yet somehow you felt stuck, like you couldn’t move to get your phone.

The sound absorbed into a dull hum from all the thoughts racing through your head.

You felt numb and lifeless. Like you were viewing yourself in a VR headset.

Time shaped into nothingness as your bedroom door creaked open. Your boyfriend, Matt’s, head peeks through the door.

His eyes soften as he sees your fragile figure on the soft cushions.

He closes the door behind him as he walks into the room. He makes a mental note to clean your room for you later. As he nears you, he sits on the floor, in front of the bay window.

His soft hands, grab your hands lightly, “I got you, it’s okay,” he finally breaks the silence.

Short jagged breath’s release your mouth, as you finally move your eyes away from outside, to him. He slowly moves to hold your head between his hands.

Tears slowly start to prick your eyes, yet you still don’t look away from him. Tears flow and flow, you have no control. Strangled breaths release, as you struggle to catch air.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Matt’s fingers brush your tears away, his cold rings sending a series of chills down your spine.

Matt brought you into a warm embrace, lowering you down from on top of the seat, to his lap. He cradled you as if you were a broken fragile doll.

He pressed kisses towards your head, letting you release all those pent up emotions.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed, nor did either of you care.

Your breath’s evened out, and your tears died down. And Matt was still there by your side.

“Do you wanna talk?…” Matt questioned after a while.

“I’m just….tired” Your small tired voice let out.

Matt kissed your nose lightly before slowly standing up, pulling you up with him. He made his way to the bathroom connected to your room.

Upon setting you on the counter, he turns on the bath, letting it run for a little. He got everything ready — your clothes, a brush, and got all the small essentials, as you got in the tub.

He washed your hair, lathering the shampoo lightly. He then grabbed your brush and slowly brushed through the large matted knots.

“How about…after this we go back to mine? We can watch Inside Out because I know how much you love that movie,” His offer makes you smile, “And then we can work our way from there, how does that sound?���

You nod in response, too exhausted to speak.

After finishing up, Matt slowly helped you into one of his large sweaters and some pajama pants. Matt started to grab your phone and small things you would need to stay over (although most of your things are already at the triplets house).

“You ready, baby?” Matt extends his hand out towards you.

You grab his hand with a little small smile. Whatever joy you had in you was put towards Matt right now.

Matt led you to his car, opening the passenger seat. You could tell Chris sat there last. The seat was reclined and the seat was altogether far. You smiled at the way Chris left it.

“This kid doesn’t know how to fix his seat, I swear” Matt complained, as he helped you fix the seat.

Matt soon got into the driver side soon after closing your door.

“Where too?” Matt asked gently.

You looked at him in confusion. Weren’t you going to his house?

“C’mon, baby, we’re going somewhere to eat. Even if it’s something small, just… get something in your system.” Matt rubbed his hand against your knee.

The thought of food makes you want to throw up on the spot. You hated that he knew, but you loved that he cared.

“Nowhere..” You mumble quietly, head against the window.

You didn’t want to make this harder on Matt. But the genuine guilt fills you by just thinking about laying a finger on food.

“Sweetie, you need something.” Matt started the car, but ended up driving towards his house, “When we get home, you can have some toast. Even one slice, okay?”

You silently nod.

Matt pulled into the garage. As you and Matt make it inside, you can already hear Chris and Nick yapping about some movie they are watching in the living room.

As much of a bad mood you could be in, those triplets will always put a smile on your face.

Matt’s hand rests on the lower section of your back, gently guiding you through the basement. The two of you slowly walk up the stairs.

Chris and Nicks heads snapped towards the stairs as they heard footsteps, obviously Matt had told them.

Nick came running up to you guys first. He pulled you into a light hug, holding the back of your head with his hand, rocking you ever so slightly.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your face, “I’m so glad you’re okay, kid.”

Chris pushed Nick out of the way, “HEY! My turn”

Chris pulled you into a bone crushing hug, way more strong than Nicks. You smiled slightly into his shoulder.

“We were all so scared,” Chris whispered quietly.

As you guys pulled away, Matt grabbed your hand again, walking you towards his room, but not before bidding a small bye to Nick and Chris.

Matt closed the door behind him, as you went to sit on your designated side of his bed.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Matt kissed your head gently, before walking out of the door.

Matt had started to make a small piece of toast. Knowing you won't want to eat the other half, he put it on a plate for Chris to eat later.

Matt walked the short trip to his room, pulling the door open.

“Here, love” Matt put the plate on your lap.

You slowly grabbed at the piece of toast. Guilt swarmed you like a bunch of bees. Instead of taking a bite, you just stayed there.

Matt was now seated on his side, “It’s okay, Baby, it’s fine,” He rubbed your arm encouragingly.

Slowly but surely, you ate the piece of toast. Matt put on “Modern Family” while you ate. He never pushed you to eat faster, he was comforting and only wanted you to be comfortable.

“Good job!!” Matt’s large smile was contagious, it made you smile too.

As some time passed, you guys just stayed in each other’s presence. Not many words were said, but it was a comforting silence that everyone needs in their lives.

You and Matt were all cuddled up, your head resting on his chest. His hand rubbing your back gently.

His soft touch and actions, that lured you into a soft slumber.

“Goodnight, my love” Matt kissed the top of your head, himself feeling awfully tired.

At the end of the day, all you needed was a loving soul to guide you through your troubles. And Matt was that person. He was the light in your dark cave.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚

part one: is it a wonder i broke? || part two: here

summary_ despite everything your brother Geta did to have you, the mixed feelings you felt, you won’t marry him, because you only want to be with Marcus.

warnings_cringe AU bc I don’t know the movie’s plot, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl), implied smut 18+, drama, angst, Geta is an asshole, Marcus is a soft peepaw, fluff ending.

NOTES_ i need this film to be out already <3

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Ever since you were a kid, you despised feeling any pair of eyes on you. It was like being hunted like you were the prey. As you read, you can feel your brother’s eyes fixated on your presence.

“What do you want?” You ask furiously, slamming your book closed. He sighs, and it’s extremely weird to feel and see him being uncomfortable.

“Caracalla is arriving today,” he says and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Wonderful, more problems” your youngest brother was truly a mistake. If Geta was an asshole, Caracalla was worse, an immature egocentric man.

“I must admit our brother truly is an insufferable dull but we must welcome him until Father arrives” You nod, looking away from him, to the city. Rome looked happily calm that day.

“Well then… we’ll meet when Caracalla arrives” Geta hurries to get in your way before you can exit the garden. It was the first place he took you to when you first set foot in Rome.

“We need to talk about… what happened the other night,” Geta says trying to sound neutral, but his face shows that he has spent the night thinking about the kiss you gave him.

“There’s nothing to talk about, soror. It is what it is…” There’s a fake smile resting on your face.

Truth is you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss too. Perhaps your heart was too resented after seeing Marcus Acaius in a place full of whores and alcohol.

“But-“

“But nothing, Geta. I just beg you to give me a lapse of time to put my thoughts in place” he huffs, incredulously.

“For what? To get in the sheets of Commander Acaius?” your eyes land directly on his, anger quickly escalating again.

“He’s just like every man in this land. Only two things you men need; power to fill your ego and the body of a woman to satiate the urges of pleasure” you spit with disgust.

“I bet you also had your escapades, sister. You must be no stranger to that urge of pleasure you talk”

“Once you love someone, you don’t change the feeling of having the same soul attached to yours for anything else, Geta” he raises his brows surprised at your words. He often wondered if he ever felt love. And if he could possibly achieve it by marrying you.

“One of these days our engagement will become public. You’ll fuck me every day till I bare your children, you’ll command me at every dinner and meeting we have. In the eyes of society, you will disrespect me with honor each day. Until then, leave me alone…”

Your feet hurriedly drag you out of the garden. Desperately needing to be alone. To cry, to think, and to grieve.

…

The moment you stepped out of your room to greet your young brother, Caracalla, you were actually happy to see him. Geta and he immediately bonded like those days when they were kids, leaving you alone.

On your way back to solitude, your eyes are glued to your feet, you don’t have the strength to walk with your chin up and face society with an elevated ego.

You bump into someone, landing on a wide chest.

“carissima…” Marcus says, holding you still. He had a bright look and hopeful smile, which you definitely don’t reciprocate.

“I have splendid news…”

“I don’t want to hear them” Marcus was completely unprepared to hear your cold voice and meet your bitter gaze.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” you want to scream at him, you might even want to kill him.

“I will never comprehend the male necessity to magnify their honor and ego. By telling that they love a woman for then to tangle with a whore.” Marcus frowns confused, he is trying so hard to describe what you’re trying to imply.

“What? No, listen, y/n…” immediately you stop with him your palm raised between you two.

“I won’t ever lay in your sheets again, General Acaius. Whatever we had going on, today seized. And from now on, I’m Lady y/n… future wife of Geta and Empress of Rome” You burst out with pride that sounds and looks too real, but deep inside you are just drowning with your swallowing stubbornness.

“You are not marrying that ludicrous boy”

“And yet… he will rule upon our heads one day” Marcus is boiling in anger, he can’t understand why you suddenly stopped neglecting the idea of marrying your brother.

“I won’t let you…”

“Watch me, General Acaius.” And then he remembers your other brother is in Rome now. He wonders if Caracalla said something to change your mind. Marcus doubts it.

“I don’t understand what I did… I promised to find a way to be with you.”

“You should understand. You’re a man. You can’t resist your lust for a woman’s flesh”

“You think I cheated on you?” your face must’ve been red from anger, you can feel it being hot. You gulp, faking a smile.

“I know you did. Now make a reverence and leave to command your army of men.” He sighs, looking extremely miserable.

“You won’t leave? I will…” you brush past him and leave towards your privacy with the feeling of your own pain choking you. Because you look at Marcus and you just know he’s the love of your life.

For him, after you leave, it’s a moment to reminisce. Everything was peacefully following its course. Marcus never lied, he promised to find a way to be with you, and he found it. He had been impatient to wait for your father until the man set some time to talk with Marcus. With a straight face, rigid posture, and confident tone Marcus Acaius asked the Emperor to marry his daughter; you. To his surprise, the old man immediately agreed, claiming that Geta would not protect you like he wanted. At the same time, Marcus knew it was a bait of your father to keep him as his General. Either way, things fell like puzzle pieces. Marcus only needed to seal the deal with the counselors and priest. And unfortunately, the meeting was held in the worst place ever.

Marcus brushed away every dancer and prostitute that came trying to lure him. He was aware that many women wanted him, but after being so lonely for many years, Marcus was sure he had found the right woman.

But for some reason, you now seemed to hate him. Marcus had very present the phrases you repeated in his ear like a prayer. The smile you would gift him after he called you perfect, the vivid reincarnation of Psyche; the only woman Venus envied for her beauty and gracefulness. There were many actions that confirmed the love you two shared. And Marcus was not willing to simply let you go. Especially to let you go and marry your brother who seemed hungry for violence. Something happened, and Rome’s greatest General would describe everything to keep the girl.

…

Two days later, you convinced your father to let you go and visit one of the matron houses, where orphan children would be delivered often. You brought them presents and secretly left a donation with the finances.

It had been a great motive to stay away from your brother and stop thinking about Marcus. Even having dinner with Caracalla was better than expected. Only that it was on your way back when once again something ruined your day. You overheard the filthy men who advised Geta that he had to hurry to make your engagement with him public as soon as possible. That wasn’t a novelty, it was the fact that they also said how making you fight with a female gladiator only made your image stronger but that wasn’t Geta’s plan, he only wanted to put you in the arena to fulfill his sick and twisted desires.

You let the men pass by the hallway before you take a moment to breathe. Of course, Geta had always had to ruin everything you touched.

You were just one of his twisted obsessions.

If you bleed, he would throw the most acidic liquid on the wound. If you were dying he would do everything to find the quickest way to get rid of you.

But you refused to escape, that would only put you in danger. And you totally refused to live a life that would grow joyless. If marrying Geta would become the most viable negotiation, then you would comply.

When you open the golden doors, you encounter Geta and Caracalla on the giant bed that rests in the middle of the room. Each one of your siblings has at least two naked women kissing and worshiping them. The scene makes you nauseous, but at the sound of your entrance, they all look startled.

“Out…” you say, with such defiance that makes the women hurriedly bolt from the room. Caracalla laughs with no shame, accommodating his rings and robe before passing by your side, knowing you wanted to speak with Geta.

“Get used to sharing the bed with at least half of Rome, soror.” You ignore him, looking directly at the giant painting that covered the walls. And once Caracalla leaves, closing the door, you look down at Geta.

“What would’ve you done if Calista had killed me in the arena?” His face goes pale, probably not expecting you to know about his malicious plans.

“You will never love me, you will never give me what I always wished for. But I won’t drag treasons to our marriage.” You say, climbing to the bed, straddling him, feeling how shy he suddenly got. His pathetic behavior is your strength in that moment. You feel his erection and you hate to use passion as a getaway, but with a man like Geta… no, with any man of Rome, a woman could only use her body to survive the horrors. Unfortunely.

“You think you can command me, y/n?” The man asks, making you giggle.

“I think I already am” he moans the moment you grind against him.

“Say you’re sorry for arranging that encounter. Say you will be a good husband for me.” Your hand grabs his wrist, preventing him from sliding his fingers under your dress. He groans in annoyance, but apparently, your movements were bewitching him enough to drive him crazy.

“Say it…” he hears you whisper in his ear, only to then leave a trail of wet kisses across his jaw and neck.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I will be a good husband, gods…” You smile, satisfied, letting his fingers wander across your wet folds.

It’s disgustingly hot. The way he touches you, under your touch, you command him in disguise. You’ve been hunted by him, your father, many men… but you could also point your arrows towards them, and from the hidden.

“For the gods, you’re perfect, y/n” Geta flatters you, but you don’t take his words for granted. You fake some moans and others come out of your mouth from pure pleasure. And you know that’s enough.

You leave him made a mess.

…

The emperor was pleased when the doors opened. He liked the sight of his daughter. Perhaps he didn’t exactly raise her. But in the depth of his heart, he loved his daughter. So seeing her as a sophisticated woman, walking with her chin up, showing every guest that she was borderline perfect, was a great reason to make him smile.

You find Roman parties slightly boring compared to the ones back at home. But you spot certain General. He doesn’t notice you yet, which gives you time to calm yourself, because he’s sitting beside your father.

After the disappointing revelation of some nights ago, you forget about those precipitated good wishes you had about Marcus Acaius. You also ignore the thoughts at the back of your head, wondering what could they be talking about. You must greet your father before leaving to enjoy the celebration.

“My daughter is what I like to call quite an exotic jewel. Spending years overseas made her only more versatile. You may notice the Egyptian influence she carries” Marcus nods looking at you.

He can’t stop looking at the golden beads decorating your hair, delicate eyeliner along melted golden splotches around your temple. Your bright orange dress illuminated the room more than the hundreds of candles around the place.

Marcus could tell many of the women in the room were jealous of your appearance. Doesn’t matter, he already knows what will happen. He is more than ready when you arrive in front of him and The Emperor.

“My daughter…” your father greets you. You weren’t expecting to see the handsome general sitting alongside your father, which only made it more difficult given your last encounter with him wasn’t the most peaceful.

“Father… General Acaius.” you acknowledge both men.

“Tell our virtuous man here all of the splendid qualities you’ve perfected in Egypt, cara filia” Despite you finding yourself attracted to the older general, you weren’t pleased by the treatment. Your father was displaying you as a prize, one which the general seemed to be valuing. He was a man like everyone else, one with the disgusting urge to get his hands into every whore he came across, one that heavily ingested wine and cursed at every word.

And he made you believe he was different. He tricked you in so little time.

“I like to learn different dialects…”

“How many do you dominate?” the Emperor asks.

“Egyptian, Macedonian dialect, Syrian, Aramic, and standard Greek,” you say, feeling shy and little among those two males. But you remember what your mother said. The emperor’s daughter can’t be afraid. But you are scared, of the madness your brother is falling into, of Marcus offering you broken promises, of your father lying. You should have run past the meadows that day before you could have encountered Marcus. Nonetheless, your father is urging you to say more, which you hate, but you comply.

“I also enjoy playing the Greek Kithara, using my voice and body to sing and dance at parties and ceremonies. I find myself very attracted to learning about our political and military system, as well to writing…” you add, speaking with a bitter tone of voice. Your father exchanged looks with the general. Both smiled proudly, then turned back to give you a glance.

“I told you she was perfect, General Acaius” Marcus already knew most of those things. He had you dancing for him one night at his chambers, he then made love to you and went to sleep tiredly and happy. He also heard you speak Syrian once. It was that and many more things that made you brilliant to his eye. Marcus considered you beyond smarter and more valuable than himself.

“She is…” Marcus confirms, smiling at you, which you completely ignore.

“Very well, this is wonderful. This is why I wanted you to be back at once, cara filia.” You frown, your hand making a fist with the fabric of your dress as an anxious reaction.

“General Marcus Acaius asked me your hand in marriage. The perfect suitor, even better than the one I had in mind” You can’t breathe for a second. You step backward.

“No…” you whisper, cautiously looking that anyone else in that party was looking at the scene. Only Geta, whose fists are crimson red from an unknown danger to you.

“My dear child… I’m an old emperor. I must secure the crown with my son and the empire with my daughter” Your silence is strong. Even the music appears low compared to the crescent tension you have built with your stoic face and trembling lower lip.

“That explains why you sent me away, to train Geta as a future emperor instead of me. Needless to say, What emperor wants a heiress when they have a heir?” You mumble, with a strong defying look that pierces sharply.

“You wanted me to marry Geta to keep half of my title. But the mighty General will keep me still better. Right?…” your feet drag you away, out of the festivities. You feel your half-brother's eyes on you, he must’ve been waiting for this moment since you arrived, and probably he would be shocked to hear you wouldn’t be marrying him anymore. Your eyes are full of tears that quickly start falling. The hallways covered in torches are empty. You can disguise your sobs as you walk away.

A week ago, knowing you would marry Marcus Acaius would’ve been the best surprise ever. But now you didn't even know how you felt. It was a mixture of confusion and bitterness. But at the bottom… you could feel hope.

Either way, none of your prayers were enough. Being who you were born to be, meant never experimenting with what means to feel true peace, true happiness, true love…

Marcus appears behind your back, grabbing your wrist so fast that it scares you.

“Get away from me!” You yell at the man, refusing to let him see you crying.

“I won’t, satis”

“You are just like every other man. I won’t take a husband who goes to pleasure houses, who leans into the touch of courtesans and instigates violence. You might be the greatest General in Rome, but you won’t break my dream of finding a lover who cherishes me” He sighs, listening to every word you just said. How clueless you were.

“You followed me that night?” He asks.

“No. I was looking around the city when I accidentally passed by the place.”

“Then you didn’t stay long enough to see the whole thing” you huff, trying to slip out of his grasp. He only tightens the hand around your wrist, pushing closer towards his chest.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the meadows. Wouldn’t you?” He asks, forcing with you to keep you still.

“LIAR!” He smirks.

“For the gods that rule caelum, they know I’m not lying. I had encountered the living reincarnation of Psyche herself and I knew I was in love the moment I looked at you” A tough man like him could easily be lying, but you knew he had widowed once, everyone claiming he truly loved his wife and unborn descendant.

“That night, I had just asked your hand in marriage when I went to that pleasure house to seal the proposal” his hands have slowly snaked to your waist, but you keep pushing him away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was splendid that your father immediately accepted. I would have told you sooner…” you stop squirming, finally looking directly at him. Despite the confusing feelings you were carrying for him, just by looking at his face, you could see the man that you loved.

“You must know… it was your brother who suggested the duel to put you in danger, it was him who gave the order to allow you to prowl around the city, it was also him who arranged the meeting in that filthy place…” he isn’t lying. You know it. Marcus Acaius never begged… and yet, he was literally pleading with you to forgive him for something he was not guilty of entirely.

“Swear it… for your power, for the empire…” you almost whispered, inches away from his lips.

“My oath to you is that I will be devoted, I’ll protect you and fight for you if needed just to ensure I will get to be yours every night for the rest of my life. Nobody could make me quit this enormous love I feel for you.…” He barely blinks, he is putting his heart into every word. Marcus would always be impressed by how fast and suddenly you made him fall all over you. He wasn’t a romantic, he rarely asked for guidance from the gods. But at that moment, he swore you had transformed his dusted heart made of coal, into a marvelous piece of gold.

The way you lean forward, hoping to touch his lips with your own, is your own way to let him know you believe him before actually saying it out loud.

“You have to believe me…” Marcus whispers.

“I do…”

And you finally kiss him. You hold onto him for dear life.

“Marcus… you have to know I was so blinded by fury and jealousy that… I let him touch me.” You reveal, feelings very promiscuous. But to your surprise, Marcus only sighs.

“You didn’t know the truth. You were hurt. I hate the mere thought but… I can’t be mad at you. That would only make Geta feel like he won. But he didn’t… because I belong to you.”

“And I’m yours. I just needed a reason to keep loving you, Marcus Acaius…” The air feels so pure and light. You can breathe knowing he still wanted you, that everything was a mistake. All the blurred patterns you used to see are clear now. You wanted to feel something for Geta, but you never couldn’t. Your heart desired to beat for Marcus.

He kisses you again, cradling your head. There’s an anxious feeling in the mouth of your stomach. Your legs almost shake at the way Marcus grabbed your waist to pull you closer. And when you open your eyes, through the corner of your eye you are able to see a familiar person. Geta is spying on you and Marcus.

But it’s over. There’s nothing to hide. Marcus has his eyes closed, so you take the moment to make visual contact with your brother. It’s a defining moment, where you let him know that despite everything, you got what you wanted. And that he would never have made you happy.

You are in the arms of the only man who deserves your love. The one that decided to stay.

“Let’s get out of here.” You say, giving him one last peck, accommodating his golden leaf crown, and taking his hand.

“To where?…”

“The meadows, where everything began…” he smiles, happy to feel everything back to normal.

Once in the wild meadows, both of you sit on a rock to see the sunset, where you realize you can stop praying for love, now you can just thank and pay tributes.

“See that hill?” Marcus points to the north of the city, one of the most beautiful places.

“Yes, I see it.” You answer, wrapping his lifted arm to hold it tightly against you.

“I’ll build you a house there. With a big space to prepare dinner, a large table for all the children we’ll have to feed. I’ll make you a garden that will be ready for when you decide to bring your mother. And we’ll have the softest bed in Rome, where I’ll always show you proof of how much I love you.”

You feel like you could cry at his words, but you don’t. You literally jump to hug the man, dying out of happiness.

“I love you! I love you! I love you!” He giggles, kissing your forehead.

“You’re all I always wanted. I just wished I was younger, only to have more years to spear by your side”

“For me, it’s enough. I know I have more than enough time to be with you, Marcus”

The next morning, the whole city of Rome is celebrating the engagement. Marcus takes you to the hill to walk the property of your future home and you meet with a seamstress to choose the right bridal style.

Two moons later, you are married to Marcus Acaius, and life suddenly feels lighter, finally, you can savor it. Instead of praying to do so.

______________________________________

Taglist: @screaming-blue-bagel @targaryencxnt @unmagically @myheadspaceisuseless @1kyfv @slooooth

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

will you marry me?

5 times remus has asked you to marry him and 1 extra.

tags: remus lupin x f!reader,, fluff,, angst,, no mention of the word y/n,, childhood friends to lovers,, mutual pining,, character death

first time at 5 years old;

your eldest sister was off to marry in spring and so naturally the whole house was buzzing with excitement and terror. and you, like any impressionable child, felt the tingles of something exciting happening before your very eyes.

lulu, your best ultimate mate as you so graciously dubbed him, felt this energy too.

or at least the many flowers and coloured envelopes scattered on the table, seem to ring some alarms for him.

“this table is too small,” he frowns, stopping his pretend chopping of the leaves, and looking longingly at the dinner table, filled with scattered wedding paraphernalia.

you shrugged, ponytail swishing as you move around him.

“we have to make room, my sister is to be mary.” you confidently repeated what your mum said to you in the morning. when you had whined at the lack of play space.

now you’re humming like it’s obvious, why you were given a child’s table and now have to play kitchen with one pot instead of four because of the lack of space. the confident pretence of a child to show they’re mature enough not to complain.

“why does she have to be mary?” he asks, his shoulder bumping into you, “i thought she likes her name hilda?”

you scoff, clearly lulu does not know of the way of being mary. so naturally, you being older (by a few months) needs to teach him. or else, however is he going to be a proper grown up?

“because she wants to be a wife. so she has to be mary first.”

“a wife?” he asks intrigued, “like mummy and daddy?”

you laugh, patting his head, “only mummies can be a wife, silly. daddies are hus-butts.” you stood straighter, having this conversation with your mum before. “mother says, you have to love first and then be a mary. so you can play with them even after dinner and eat chocolates and make children.”

he seems to perk up even more, looking at you. his eyes as usual, gleaming with obvious awe, “to make children? with what?”

you pout, having no answer.

you haven’t asked your mum this question yet. too busy thinking of how many mary’s there are in your town.

still, you try to think of an answer.

you don’t want to let lulu down, you are after all his only hope for knowing things.

luckily, you’ve overheard this one conversation last week, your sister moving after she becomes mary so they can begin making a family.

you raise your head, hand on your hip and your other pointed as if in a lecture.

you said in your most confident voice. “you enter specific rooms in the house, and always make sure it’s locked. and then you wait until you can come out with children. but you must only do this if you love them. that is the ultimate rule. or else it won’t work.”

“wow,” he breathed, he clenched his fists then, looking utmost determined. before screaming in glee and confidence, the only way a naive child could. “then let’s make children! be mary and then we can play all night!”

you clicked your tongue, disappointed he hadn’t comprehended. “but you should love me first.”

his cheeks heated pink, indignant, “but i do. i love you a whole lot! and i wanna play here all the time.”

you shook your head, grim. “we can’t.” sounding so heartbroken, as much as any five year old could sound.

because you’ve already asked your mum if you could make children with lulu and she said, you’re only suppose to do that if you’re a grown up in love.

you asked, what’s the difference? you were plenty grown. 5 is one hand after all.

and your sister said to you, amusement lacing her words, a grown up to take care of you and cherish you. someone able to help you and grow with you.

you look at lulu. his thin arms and his lack of knowledge.

certainly not a grown up. not a proper man who can be with you, at all.

“i don’t love you, so we can’t.” you say this huffing, now turning completely to your make shift pot and stirring the water and leaves.

lulu cried loud that day, wailing like a little kid.

and nodding to yourself knowing you’ve made the right choice. he is so not a grown up. even if his pinched face made you feel queasy.

your mum rushing over and asking what was wrong. when you told her, she laughed out loud, and hugged you both, brushing remus’ hair out of his tear streaked face.

and you wonder what was so funny when he looked so sad.

second time at 11 years old;

remy was horrified.

you realize this as he stares at you in a crazed panic. and as always, it was up to you to be strong.

“what do you mean by that?” puffing your chest out and stood to cover remy from potter.

“didn’t you know? kissing makes girls pregnant.” he whispered, loudly in the empty halls, scandalized as he went to look at your stomach as if it will inflate this instant.

you fight the urge to cover that area with your robes. willing yourself to be brave for the both of you.

“surely… that isn’t true.”

potter scoffs, offended to have been doubted, “yes it is, i heard a prefect say so.”

you feel remy grab the back of your robes in panic. the reference enough to persuade him. you almost roll your eyes, but instead sighed to calm yourself down.

“i ought to tell you lot to be careful.” potter looked at the both of you meaningfully, and inhaling sharply as a flash of embarrassment burns into your brain.

you weren’t able to will the heat of your cheeks to dissipate, before it showed on your cheeks. your face and neck warmed red. mortified that potter knows the secret kiss shared between you and your friend, currently pulling at your robes.

it was both of your first kiss, deciding to just get it all over with, so you both can know what was so special about it.

it wasn’t much.

it felt soft, and quick.

nothing at all sparkling or romantic, like others said.

“alert your parents immediately, else you might be kicked out. and i’ve grown quite fond of the two of you, you know.” potter nodded at you, looking as if he pitied you both before crossing his arms as he strutted away.

you look at remy fully now. he was standing too close and still holding unto your robes like a lifeline.

“did you really have to tell potter of all people what we did?” you scoff, crossing your arms and tapping your feet like how your mother used to do it when she was cross with something.

he seemed to shrink into himself more, “i’m sorry, he said he saw it, and pestered me into confessing.” he bit his lips to bleed. “i didn’t know you were gonna be in trouble.” he sniffled.

and you immediately cooled, reaching forward and pulling at his chin to stop his assault and softly rubbing at his bleeding lips with your robes with another click of your tongue.

“it’s fine, he already saw, nothing else we can do.”

“so, what are we going to do now?” he asked softly, he looked at you, eyes filling with worry and sadness. “what if you are? we’ll get in trouble, won’t we?”

you bring down your arm now, before breathing out deeply.

you try to think of why it wouldn’t be true, but the tone of his voice was making you worry endlessly too.

even though you know it wasn’t all true, because your sister kissed her husband plenty of times in the house and they don’t have kids.

and you were about to point that out to him. to reassure your ever warm, too soft friend, that james potter was full of it and to relax.

but remy stood straighter, his cold hands gripping yours tightly, so much that it hurts. now standing a bit taller than you. pink lips pulled into a straight line and eyes looking straight at you. soft brown eyes no longer holding any worry, instead with resolute determination.

“marry me,” he said, “i promise to look after our children and work.” he nodded at you, as if urging you to say yes. to trust him.

a look entirely different from what you remembered from way before, yet feeling all the same regardless.

the reason of proposal was ridiculous in of itself that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“i’m not pregnant you dolt, pregnancy doesn’t work that way. i assure you.” rolling your eyes in amusement. “so don’t you go proposing like some weirdo.”

he stopped for a second, as if startled as he kept looking at you. before leaving a shaky sigh, head hanging low.

“okay,” his lips in a wobbly smile, looking weird. “good.”

third time at 17 years old;

sirius had managed to sneak in a case of firewhisky in one winning after-party in the common room.

it was safe to assume that everyone was positively sloshed. if judging from the slurring exclaims from james and a red face peter barely able to stand and sirius laughing maniacally at something marlene has said to him.

and remus being the self-appointed responsible one, had taken it upon himself to maintain sobriety the entire night. to look after the three of them in the aftermath.

resolutely sitting next to you the whole night, engaging in a missed conversation about gossip and literature.

“still feeling confident you can handle these three blokes up in your room?”

he grimaced, already rubbing his temples, probably from regret and the james’ incessant off-key singing. “i don’t really have much of a choice now, do i?”

you laugh easy, “with the way james is attempting to strip, i think not. you did volunteer, taking responsibility and what not.”

he sighed rather audibly, over the soft music of the party that was already dying down. most of the attendees already settling into their respective rooms.

and you look at remus, slumped into the chair, and laugh to yourself.

still so helpless, you think. you guess you had to step up again. pick up the slack a little bit.

you try to trick yourself into thinking you were tired and miffed about it, but you find you quite like feeling needed. especially by remus.

whom of which seems to be way into being responsible now and being a proper grown up. one that follows curfew and plans his day.

he barely looks at you for help anymore.

he always has an answer to questions now.

as the boys depend on him for being the responsible one in their little foursome.

off to late night adventures and pranks. no longer the crying, awe struck, nervous kid you grew up knowing. makes you feel kind of sad.

“alright then,” you exhaled, “i’ll lend you a hand for dealing with the demons.” you stood up whilst downing your drink, a sweet concoction by dorcas.

he looks up at you, eyes looking bloodshot and tired. he softly shook his head, “you don’t have to.”

you frown, clicking your tongue and placing a hand on each of your hips. “i said i’ll do it, so i’m going to. now stand up and let’s go.”

he looked at you just a second longer and sighs looking away, a soft smile etched on lips before looking at you again. looking won over.

standing up, dusting the invisible dirt on his trousers and nodding.

he towers over you now, seemingly out of no where.

you realize this as your neck strain looking up at him. as you gather the rowdy, intoxicated boys back to the dorms.

something sirius was extremely grateful for and the others echoed.

“thanks for— for taking care of me darling,” sirius breathed hot into your face before pecking you on the cheek.

“yes, you’re very welcome,” you hummed amused, tucking his covers into his sides, making sure he couldn’t move out of bed.

sirius giggles, “it feels like being tucked in by a mum,” before looking at you serious, eyes wide and looking more sober than he actually was, as if realizing something.

“you’re the mum in the group!” he exclaimed.

“im the what?”

james overhears this and exclaims his agreements.

“oh you are! you’re the perfect mum size!” james said.

you turn to him, “and what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask hotly.

“you’re very caring and mum-like, and you scold like a mum too, sometimes you even talk like one,” peter mumbled.

you look at remus, giving you an amused look, lips stretching like close to laughing.

“this is going to be the last time i’m helping you lot, if you call me mum one more time.” you threatened lightly.

sirius hums loud like he doesn’t believe you, “it’s not all bad, not like you’re gonna be a single-mum. remus is gonna be the dad after all.” he said like he was so sure.

and james, of ourse, echoed his agreements.

“obviously,” james tutted from his bed, tucked in tight by remus.

“yesh,” peter slurred, “he looks like—remus looks like he knows how to read maps.” he breathes out, like on a verge of sleeping.

james gasps, “he does! remus is a map reading dad, nothing has made more sense than this moment right here. you are meant to hold a map in your hands remus, you’re a daddy compass.”

remus looks perturbed, eyebrows scrunched and lips into a tight frown. he shakes his head then, before closing each of their curtains, not even bothering to justify james’ quip. “night lads,”

“night dad,” sirius teased from his bed, before shuddering excessively, “never thought i’d say that again.”

you snort out a laugh before you could help it. “good night everyone.”

you look at remus, and see him gesture to come outside.

quietly walking out of their room and closing the door behind you.

“come, i’ll walk you out.” grabbing your hand softly and pulling you down the corridor to the stairs. dropping his hold just as quick as if he hadn’t meant to hold it in the first place.

“sorry about the lads, the lack of filter is unfortunately not the effect of alcohol but is just them naturally.”

you chuckle softly, rubbing your tingling palms on the side of your skirt.

as if you didn’t know that already. those three have already been a staple into your everyday life for majority of the year. they, quite frankly, grow on you like some persistent vine on a house.

“it’s fine, it was quite tame compared to the usual rubbish they spew most of the time.”

remus looks at you, barely able to hide the smirk emerging from his lips.

“don’t tell me you liked them calling you mum?” the teasing lilt in his voice impossible to miss.

you lightly push on his shoulders. “don’t be disgusting, being called their mum is weird enough. and you implying i like it just makes it even weirder.”

“well imagine being called daddy compass by one of your mates, it’s gonna be hard looking at james tomorrow morning i’ll tell you that.”

you laugh excessively loud at this, before covering your mouth sheepish as you remember the time.

you look over at him, up and down as if assessing, “but you do look like a dad who knows how to read maps. wears khakis all the time and has a moustache.”

he rolls his eyes at you, as you grin in mirth, “well does that mean you’ll do me the honours of marrying me to avoid the life of a single parent to three demon boys?”

you laugh, shaking your head, “not exactly selling your case to me, are you?”

“won’t you reconsider though?” he moans, like he’s pained but you see the glint in his eyes even in the dark dorm room stairs. “it is after all for the children.”

you know he’s joking, hardly a night of partying counts as anything like a proper proposal.

but your brain can’t help but supply the thought that he looked quite fuller now. arms looking sturdier, and harder. he is acting more responsibly, all the professors trust him.

he was almost like a proper grown up now.

and you remember the echo of the ultimate rule in your childhood.

you shake your head, and an easy smile spread on your lips. stopping at the stairs for your dorms, “over my dead body,”

and he laughs, the sound echoing in the trashed common room, “well alright, good night, beautiful.”

“good night remus.”

fourth time at 19 years old;

you knew james was serious about lily when you lot had graduated from hogwarts. but you didn’t know the extent of the seriousness until he said this after one of the order meetings.

“i’m going to ask lily to marry me.”

james had said this with such conviction, so sure and full of affection. you can’t help but feel awed.

he suddenly seemed mature. not like the doofus you’ve come to know and consider a confidant through these trying times.

but a proper adult, one who does taxes and knows how to set up an appointment for medical check ups and fights in wars.

james suddenly feeling very far away from you.

you feel remus shift, his leg pressing into yours. you look at him to see what he wanted, but saw he was just looking at james, eyes set hard.

you shook yourself out of your stupor. standing up abruptly, not meaning to leave the familiar press of remus’ leg against your thigh.

“that’s—that’s great news james, i would have never guessed you—oh you’re all grown up!” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and him wrapping his around your middle with a giddy smile.

“thank you, mum.” he laughs, the on going joke still running strong. you squeeze him extra tight and pinching his arm for extra measure. before pulling away. “i never thought you had it in you to propose. i’d have half a mind to propose to lily on your behalf.”

he laughs, a bashful blush resting on his cheeks. “i figured, why wait, you know? tomorrow isn’t promised, and—i think spending every moment together is we all can do. i don’t want to die with regrets. i love her.”

you breathed in deep.

sirius coming forward too and slapping james in the back before giving his own congratulations and then peter and then remus too.

you were happy for them both, truly, having found one another even in these difficult times was awe-inspiring.

and then you start to wretchedly wonder if you could have that too. if only the circumstances were a bit different. would you have been given enough time to find another? enough to love? enough to marry?

you find your gaze sliding to remus, how strained his smile looked and wonder if he’s thinking the same.

he looked back at you, as he always does, and smiles gently. less strained now. like he was resigned.

you try to imagine if the circumstances were a bit different and he would find someone to love. someone to marry.

you feel your navel, coil in a bundle of nerves. a tension in your neck making you almost irate.

he gestured for you to follow him out.

like being compelled and weak, you follow without a question.

the night air was chilly, and feeling some sort of static on your skin, like building an unnerving suspense.

remus just sat and gestured for you to sit beside him.

the seat was cold, and you sat rigid like ice.

it’s been a while since you’ve last sat with remus like this. the order keeping all your hours occupied, mission after mission. surviving by the skin of your teeth.

all the world has gone fucked now, it didn’t feel quite real some time—like some sort of veil has just been pulled over your head making you see things clearer for the horrors awaiting your fates.

and in your mind loud with noise and worry, you almost didn’t hear him.

“why don’t we do it?”

“what?” you turn to him, hoping his face show an inkling, a clue as to what he had said.

he looked at you then, eyes still so warm even with the atrocities he’s faced and eyes still so bright in the night. a twinkling light reflecting in his eyes making him look younger. prettier.

“why don’t we get married?”

you lean back slightly in shock, “what?” you repeated, because you didn’t understand. this came so suddenly, words weirdly familiar but the intent wildly different than from all the others you’ve heard before.

you looked at his eyes. searching, still, for a clue or something that might make sense because what?

he laughs, the warm, soft sounding one you can barely hear. but it was just the two of you outside and it was quiet and you were sitting so close, so you hear it—loud and clear. the sound making you feel warm. “is that so crazy?”

he looked like a boy, happy and hopeful. his leg was pressing into your thighs again. the pressure grounding you.

his hands fidgeting deep within his pockets.

“i think we work well enough.” he added, with a small smile.

you feel something in your heart stutter, “work well enough,” you repeated. “glad to know i reach your standards for a bride, sir lupin.” you almost scoff. masking the bitter simmer of disappointment of his reason. and the coiling nerves still tightly wound in your navel, feeling heavy, making it harder to breathe.

he shrugs, “well you know, a lot of applicants have been killing themselves to be chosen. i reckon you ought to feel honoured.” he grinned over to you, still joking.

you rolled your eyes, “of course,”

“yeah?” he perked up, suddenly sitting straighter, his knees bumping into yours in his haste to look at you properly. “you want to?” he seemed shocked, overtly so, that it makes you laugh. a heat blooming on your face at his apparent willingness to marry you before shaking your head to avoid any confusion.

“no to the proposal but yes, that it is indeed an honour.”

he deflates, “ah,” he said softly, before laughing like he was embarrassed. “i just—i kept thinking what james said, about tomorrow not being promised—and, i, well i thought—“ he clears his throat before continuing. “i thought i might see what the fuss was about,”

you nodded, “‘m afraid marriage isn’t so simple. you have to love one another for a start.” you added somewhat bitterly, looking away.

“so you keep reminding me,” he says, laughing awkwardly.

fifth time at 38 years old;

you feel as if your life was reaching a crescendo.

the night glooming, brooding like the sky knows to colour it of fear and nerves.

it was going to come down to tonight, so it seems. whether we win or we lose. the end or the beginning. all those families we’ve lost and the families we’ve created. all our hopes and dreams sacrificed into this one night.

“you feeling alright?” remus asked to your left.

the glooming sky somehow illuminating his face all the same.

“as alright as anyone can be when facing a dark wizard.” you smirked, shrugging.

he laughs, still sounding so warm and soft.

you feel his fingers brush yours. you had half a mind to remind him to get ready and hold his wand tight.

you notice how keeps forgetting to do that. opting to hold unto you, just like he did before when he was a child from another time.

he only offers a closed lipped smile, looking at you the same way he has always looked at you. his stare the most familiar thing, it might as well be a part of you.

“i love you.” he breathed. and your heart hammered, your world tilting on its axis. shifting the very fabric of your universe.

and he looked relieved like he couldn’t wait to hold unto it any longer. and then he repeated it. more sure. louder. affectionate. looking straight into you. his brilliant, soft, warm eyes so full.

you wonder when did his gaze start to look at you like that?

and then you see;

his eyes looking as it did when he was five, shining with obvious awe.

his eyes when he was eleven, with resolute determination.

eyes when he was seventeen, glinting with mirth in the dark crevices of the dorms.

the look he gave you when he was nineteen, looking so boyishly happy and hopeful.

and now as he’s thirty-eight, looking at you with so much love, and longing, and pain, and joy.

“when this is all over,” he breathe, “will you marry me?”

so much time has passed by now that you had once thought it was too late for you. too late with him. something you always thought but could never have.

he was now undeniably a man. arms littered with scars and unwavering confidence as he looks at you. but his eyes still glimmer and twinkle all the same.

the undeniable rampage in your chest, your eyes searching for an answer or a clue for what he’s thinking.

“i love you,” he repeats, and gazing at you with that familiar eyes of his.

and you laugh because you found your answer. so you’ll give him his.

“yes.”

extra;

the battle was brutal, bodies piled on top of one another. those too young to know what they even fought for. those for their own ideals. and those caught in cross fires.

but it was over. and the good guys won.

but with so many lost, people thought, how could i possibly cheer?

but there was this type of solace when you’re gone. there was no more pain. all those gone can only do one thing, to let go. at least that’s what harry thinks.

staring down at the family he could’ve had.

your limp cold hand holding remus’ equally cold ones.

he wonders if someone intertwined your hands, or if you simply died holding on to each other. never to let go.

he realized it didn’t really matter. you were both gone. forever, but together.

he thinks of the comforting hugs you’ve given him in the short time you’ve spent with him, and the many stories remus told. and in this fierce pain he wonders if you ever saw the shiny, glinting ring in remus’ dresser hidden away ever since he was eighteen.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: wrong number au, Eddie texts Gareth something personal but puts in 1 wrong number & ends up texting Steve. The two of them hit it off & start chatting & then when they meet IRL they are completely head over heels in love & its cute as fuck

MY LOVE MY LOVE MY LOVE!!! LOVE A GOOD WRONG NUMBER AU!!! I can't believe I've never written it before now. I also had to actually include Gareth because I am actually obsessed with him lately, and I just think it's really neat that we can make these characters our own. This was such a fun and cute request! I didn't do the inappropriate route because I thought this was hilarious so sorry about that. I made up for it with something else! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------

GARE BEAR! You won’t believe it but i dropped my phone in a sewer. Lost everything.

He had never been so happy about having his closest friends’ numbers memorized. His phone was somewhere under the streets of Chicago, floating through dirty water and sewage, dying a slow and painful death.

He texted everyone else one at a time, let them know he had a new number and to completely delete the old one because it would never be recovered.

They were used to things like this happening; He lost his phone annually at this point and it was cheaper just to get a new number than transfer everything to a new one.

He went to dial Wayne, the old school part of him insisting on phone calls instead of texts still, when Gareth’s name popped up with a new text.

Not sure who Gare Bear is, but sorry about your phone. That’s shitty.

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

did you mean to make a pun?

Did it make you laugh?

yes

Then yes.

Eddie sat down on a bench, entirely focused on his conversation with this stranger.

Did you find your Gare Bear yet?

Not yet but i think i’m pretty happy talking to you for now

Smooth, Eddie.

Admittedly, he was in a hell of a dry spell.

Going on almost two years, actually.

A little flirting with a stranger never hurt anybody, not when he clearly needed some practice.

Not sure if your Gare Bear would like it very much though

Wait, what?

Eddie stared at his phone, trying to comprehend what that could mean. Why would Gareth not want him talking to a stranger?

I hope you find your partner though!

Oh.

Oh!

Eddie hit the call button in the corner before he could even register what he was doing.

“Hello?”

Oh no, he sounded hot.

“Hi. So, Gareth is very much not my partner. He probably actually wishes I would really forget his number,” Eddie rushed out.

“Um. Okay?”

“He’s been my best friend for ten years and he thinks I’m a mess. Not a partner,” Eddie further clarified.

“Got it. Not a partner.”

“Yes, exactly.”

They stayed silent for a moment before Eddie coughed.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Steve. Sorry about your phone, seriously that sucks,” he sounded genuinely apologetic, like he personally threw Eddie’s phone in the sewer.

“Oh, no big deal. I lose my phone more often than I go out with someone,” Eddie said.

Why did he say that?

Steve let out a laugh and it was like music.

Eddie couldn’t help the smile taking over his face at his laugh, already knew he wasn’t gonna be able to let this guy go without learning more about him.

“So you’re, what? Celibate?” Steve asked.

“Far from it. Well, maybe not far from it. Temporarily, maybe. It’s been a while,” Eddie admitted.

“How long?” Steve asked, a loud bang coming from his end of the phone. “Sorry, I had to go outside for some privacy.”

Eddie wasn’t going to read into that. He wasn’t.

“Two years give or take. I mean I’m not counting shitty dates that ended before they got worse. So, yeah. Two years.”

“Been a year for me, but. Yeah, I get it. My last relationship didn’t end on the best terms. She decided I was too in love with her I guess,” Steve sighed, voice sounding pained.

She.

Steve was probably straight.

There was no way he’d be lucky enough for Steve to like men.

Or for Steve to like him.

“I can’t really imagine breaking up with someone because they loved me too much. I’m usually the one who falls too hard,” Eddie admitted.

“Yeah, well, same here,” Steve sounded sad, a bit withdrawn.

Eddie wanted to hear him laugh again.

“I doubt either of us have ever fallen as hard as my phone did down a drain,” Eddie said sadly.

Steve let out a loud laugh and Eddie smiled.

“This might sound crazy, but I’m kind of glad your phone decided to live in the sewers,” Steve said when he finally calmed down. “And maybe a little too happy that you typed your friend’s number wrong.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

Was this flirting? Was he successfully having a flirtatious conversation with a potentially very hot guy?

“So I can be bold and ask if you maybe wanted to meet up somewhere?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“So you’re in Chicago?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“For the last five years, yeah.”

“You busy tonight?”

Eddie’s heart stopped.

He was really going to meet up with a stranger just because he liked his laugh and hoped he was hot.

He’d done more with less.

“Yeah, actually. I’m getting dinner with this guy I accidentally texted,” Eddie smirked, looking down at his feet.

“Dinner? What a lucky guy. Where are you going?” Steve sounded amused.

“Well, it depends on what he likes. I’ve been craving some pierogies. Ever been to Staropolska?” Eddie asked.

Gareth’s family owned it, and he used to eat there two or three times a week while they were in college, usually working off his bill in the kitchen doing dishes after.

He hadn’t been in a couple months, work keeping him busy and his budget being pretty tight when he moved into a studio apartment by himself.

He had enough to treat himself tonight though.

“The one on Milwaukee? Yeah. One of my favorite places to get devolay,” Steve sounded surprised that he knew it.

“You won’t believe this, but the friend I was trying to text when I got you, his family owns that place.”

“No way! Then we have to. We owe it to the guy who has almost my exact phone number,” Steve responded.

“Meet you there at seven?” Eddie asked, suddenly more nervous.

“Seven sounds good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggled. Eddie fell in love.

“We should probably hang up.”

“Should we?” Eddie asked, not wanting to stop talking to him yet.

“Yes, I have to do my hair. Gotta impress the guy who drops his phone in the sewer and texts strangers about it.”

“He sounds like a loser. Don’t put too much effort in,” Eddie sighed. “But okay. See you at seven.”

“See you then.”

They both stayed on the line for a minute.

“Okay. For real. Bye,” Steve laughed.

“Bye, Stevie.”

He hung up before he could convince himself to talk to him for the rest of the afternoon.

He breathed out a loud sigh, smiling as he realized he had a date.

He dialed Gareth’s real number immediately.

“Gareth, I have a date!”

“What is this number, Eddie?”

“Oh, I dropped my phone in the sewers. Not important. I have a date!”

“Jesus Christ. Okay. Come over then.”

—-----------------------------------

Gareth had been his pre-date hype man since high school, though he wasn’t very good at it.

Mostly he calmed Eddie’s nerves and helped make sure his hair didn’t look like he just woke up, which was often its unfortunate state of being.

“So, you don’t know this guy,” Gareth said from his bed.

“No.”

“And you talked for like two seconds and decided you’re in love with him,” he continued.

“Yes.”

“And you think this is totally normal and sane?”

“I didn’t say that. But we just…I dunno. We clicked. I haven’t been that at ease with someone in a long time. It felt natural,” Eddie fell back on his bed, starfishing so his arm and leg hit Gareth’s legs.

“Dude, I’m not discouraging it. I’m happy for you. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it isn’t as easy when you meet,” Gareth said softly.

“Yeah, thanks. I think it’ll be okay, though.”

“Alright. Tell babcia I’m coming by tomorrow for lunch.”

Eddie sat up and gave Gareth a quick hug.

“Thanks Gare Bear!”

—-------------------------------------------

He arrived 20 minutes early so he could sneak in the back to say hi to Gareth’s grandmother, who still insisted on getting her hands on the food every day for a couple of hours despite being nearly 80 years old.

“Babcia!”

“Eddie! My kochany! You forget to visit and I forget what you look like!” she rushed over, flour and oil stains all over her apron.

He should have kept some distance so his shirt didn’t get ruined, but he ignored the part of his brain telling him to look perfect for his date so he could get a hug.

“You know I have to watch my money,” he said against her shoulder.

“And you know I feed you for free if you clean up after yourself. No excuse,” she pulled away and looked him over. “You look handsome. Why?”

Eddie put his hands on his hips.

“What? Don’t I always look handsome?”

“Of course, but this is different. Your hair is smooth and you smell like the perfume store,” she smirked. “Is it a girl? Or a boy? Or a someone?”

“It’s a boy. We’ve never met in person, so I wanted to make a good first impression,” he admitted.

“Oh! How lovely! What’s his name?” She was back to kneading dough, but kept her eyes on him.

“Steve. He actually has been here before, loves the devolay?”

Babcia froze.

“Steve? Oh goodness.” She turned to the sink and washed her hands, muttering under her breath about something.

Eddie’s heart sank. Babcia didn’t seem happy about this.

“What’s wrong? You know him?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is he not a good guy? Has he been mean to you? I’ll call and cancel right now,” he insisted, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“No, no. Nothing like that. He is a very sweet boy. He got broken up with in this restaurant a few months back. Tore me to pieces. He just sat here for hours crying. I moved him to a corner booth for his privacy and he left me a $100 tip and ever since then when he comes in I make sure to give him as many szarlotka as he wants.” She touched Eddie’s shoulder. “You be good to him. He has a nice heart.”

Eddie’s mind raced.

Why had Steve agreed to come here for a date if this is where he’d been broken up with? Why did he even bother coming back if it held such bad memories?

What if he didn’t see this as a date?

The front door chimed and he heard the employee at the front welcome someone.

“He will be good for you, drogi.”

Eddie nodded before making his way to the front, stopping in his tracks when he saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen standing at the podium, talking to the employee with a smile.

“That’s him,” Babcia said from behind him. “Go get him.”

She shoved him forward, nearly making him trip, which caught the attention of Steve.

He looked over with a curious smile, and then realization seemed to hit him.

“Steve?” Eddie managed to ask, loud enough to be heard over the few full tables in the restaurant.

“Eddie?” he asked back, hesitantly moving towards him.

“I, um,” Eddie started, then cleared his throat. “I usually sit by the window, if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Steve nodded.

It was cliche, like the room around them closed into just them existing together, like the stars had aligned exactly right for this moment to happen.

They sat down at the table Eddie usually sat at, staring across the table at each other in slight awe.

Eddie really hoped that Steve was having the same feelings he was.

But one thing was stopping Eddie from being completely enraptured.

“Is this a date?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” Steve seemed surprised by his question. “I mean, yeah. I’d like it to be. I thought it was.”

Eddie nodded once, but remained quiet, thinking.

“Oh God, it wasn’t, was it? You were just being nice. What is it with this restaurant? If I didn’t love the food so much or babcia, I would never step foot here again, I swear-”

Eddie put his hand on Steve’s to calm him down, frown on his face.

“Woah. What?”

“I just. I don’t have the best history with dates here and I guess I didn’t learn the first time something bad happened, and now I’m being too much too fast again in this place and-”

Eddie pulled Steve’s hand up to his face, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Stevie, calm down. This is a date. I’ll have as many dates here as you want to to get rid of whatever negative stuff you associate with this place. Babcia would hate that I ruined this place for you,” he said quietly.

Steve seemed to relax at his words.

And if you wanna tell me about what happened, you can. If it’ll help,” Eddie offered.

Before Steve could reply, Gareth’s cousin, Ben, came to take their order.

It was a quick order, both knowing exactly what they wanted, and then Steve looked back at him.

“It’s just. My last girlfriend, who I was with for almost three years, dumped me here. It was kind of out of the blue for me, and I had a really hard time that night.”

Eddie felt his heart break.

How could someone do that to Steve? He didn’t need to know him better to know that he didn’t deserve that, especially not if babcia had taken him under her wing so quickly.

“She must be awful to have let you go like that,” Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand in his, resisting the urge to go to his side of the table and hold him.

Steve shrugged and looked down at their hands.

“I mean, I should have known. She was never much for romance or spending time together that didn’t involve work or school. I was looking at engagement rings and she was looking at apartments to get away from me. I was just…really blinded by what I thought was love,” Steve smiled sadly at him.

“It wasn’t?”

“Well, it may have been a type of love. It was more comfort than anything. She was kind of all I had for the first year we were together, and I think I just ignored how unhealthy that was for both of us. And then I met Robin in college, and she was like the opposite of Nancy in every way. A few months before Nancy broke up with me, I told her that Robin’s parents kicked her out when she came out to them and that she needed a place to stay until we graduated. She agreed, then never made any attempt at getting to know her. And I didn’t read into it, Nancy isn’t like, super talkative with people she isn’t already close with, and Robin just kinda stayed to herself when Nancy was home.” Steve took a shaky breath. “But it turns out she didn’t bother getting to know her because she already knew she was gonna break up with me and leave the apartment to me and Robin, so.she just. Didn’t bother. Robin warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

Eddie wanted to cry.

Steve’s voice was full of pain, but not in a way that told him he still loved her, or still hoped they would get back together. More that she broke a part of him that he still hadn’t been able to fix no matter how hard he tried or wanted to.

“Was she jealous?” Eddie asked, trying so hard to understand what could have happened.

“I dunno. I mean, Robin’s a lesbian, and I definitely never had feelings for her anyway. Nancy was always so sure of herself, I can’t imagine she’d be jealous.”

“It sounds like she didn’t appreciate you very much.”

“What do you mean?” Steve didn’t sound mad, just curious.

“Well, she didn’t even make an effort to get to know your best friend, right? And it sounds like she was too busy focusing on her future to even think about what you looked like in it, and instead of trying to plan it with you, she made a future for her. She sounds a bit selfish,” Eddie shrugged.

Instead of being upset, Steve laughed.

God, Eddie loved that laugh.

“Sorry, it’s just that you sound exactly like Robin. You’d probably be two peas in a pod.”

“Tell me about her,” Eddie genuinely wanted to know more about the person who kept Steve going.

Their food arrived in the middle of the story of how Steve and Robin met, but it didn’t stop him from continuing.

Eddie listened with a fond smile, filling in Steve’s gaps of silence as he chewed a bite of food with questions or something related to what he’d been talking about.

It was easy.

It was fun.

Halfway through the meal, Steve’s foot rested against one of his and it felt like electricity shooting through his bones.

Eddie told him about Gareth, and his family who had pretty much adopted him when they both moved here from a small town in Indiana. He talked about his uncle who raised him for most of his life, who visited every Christmas despite being on a really tight budget.

Time passed quickly, but not at all.

They hadn’t realized how long they’d been sitting there until babcia came out without her apron to hand deliver an apple tart.

“You boys enjoy. I’ll see you both soon!” she said as she smacked a kiss on top of each of their heads.

Both of them blushed, but tried to cover it up with a bite of food.

As they finished, Steve looked outside to see how dark it was, how few people were left walking the streets.

“Guess we should head out,” he muttered, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Would you wanna come to my place? We don’t have to do anything except talk, I promise. I just don’t really want this to end yet,” Eddie suggested.

“Really? I haven’t bored you?” Steve asked, just a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

Eddie shook his head.

“Not at all. I’d really like to get a chance to love you the way you deserve,” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyes widened.

Eddie should back up, should say something less intense.

But if this ruined it, then at least he said what he was thinking.

“You think you could love me?” Steve asked, barely more than a whisper.

“I think I already do a little,” Eddie admitted.

Steve blinked at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape.

“I need to kiss you,” he finally said.

“Now? Here?” Eddie smiled.

“Now. Here.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Steve stood from the table and stood in front of Eddie, placing both hands on his cheeks and leaning down.

Their lips brushed in a barely-there kiss, softer than Eddie expected.

Steve stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, and Eddie couldn’t help the words tumbling from him.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

If someone had said it to him, he would think they were just trying to get him into their bed, but that wasn’t the case here and he hoped Steve knew that.

“People used to call me a charmer, but I don’t think I’m half as good at it as you,” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting against Eddie’s lips.

“Just honest.”

“Take me home,” Steve said, opening his eyes and staring at Eddie, his eyes glowing with something close to love.

—-------------------------------------

They stayed up all night, never doing more than kissing and mapping out patterns on each others’ skin.

They talked about everything, even the painful parts of life, even the parts that they hadn’t shared with anyone else.

It didn’t make any sense that someone who had been a stranger not even 24 hours ago could already mean so much.

When the sun started to shine through the curtains of Eddie’s apartment, Steve sighed and buried his face in Eddie’s neck.

“I have to go to work,” though he burrowed his entire body further into the bed and Eddie’s side.

“You could call in sick,” Eddie suggested, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“Robin would kill me.”

He and Robin worked together as team teachers at an elementary school. When one of them missed, it left the other with 34 kids alone.

Plus, Steve loved his job, worked hard to be a teacher, and hated missing a day if he didn’t need to.

“Maybe you could bring Robin here after work? I can make dinner?” Eddie’s job was pretty easy, marketing for an Indie record label based out of New York remotely really kept him busy for a couple hours a day and the rest of the time was spent writing his own music.

Steve sat up and looked down at him, his hair ruffled from Eddie running his fingers through it for the last eight hours.

“You’d wanna meet Robin?”

“Yeah, if you want me to. She sounds like fun.”

Steve started crying.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry. Good job, Munson, already ruined something good,” Eddie was reaching for a tissue from his bedside table.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and emotional. And just. It means a lot that you’d wanna meet her,” Steve said between gasps for air as he continued to cry.

“Of course I do. I could even invite Gareth over, too, if you want. He won’t believe that our date went well,” Eddie joked, brushing the tears away from Steve’s cheeks.

“I’d love to meet him,” Steve said, sniffling.

“When can you guys get here?”

“Usually we’re done by four, but sometimes we stay later to finish grading stuff. Maybe we should say six?”

“Got it. Any allergies?”

“Robin is allergic to shellfish. She says she is. I think she just doesn’t like them,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“No shellfish, got it. Any preferences, my love?”

Steve blushed at the term of endearment, looking down before he leaned in to kiss Eddie softly.

“Anything you make will be great.”

“You wanna borrow some clothes for work?” Eddie asked.

“Do you have any business casual stuff?”

Eddie gagged.

“Unfortunately, it’s required for the job sometimes. Far left of the closet should have something,” he nodded towards the small closet by the bathroom.

Eddie watched as Steve walked over and picked out his only pair of khaki pants and a navy button down. Steve looked back at him and winked before he nodded towards the bathroom.

“Could use some help working the shower if you’re willing to,” he smirked.

Eddie jumped up from the bed and ran into the bathroom, ignoring the way Steve was laughing.

“The hot water is tricky sometimes. I should probably get in there too to make sure it stays hot,” Eddie said as he stripped off his pants.

“Definitely. Wouldn’t want me to get cold,” Steve put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down. “Kiss me?”

Eddie leaned in to kiss him slowly, letting his tongue brush along his lips just to get a taste.

“Okay?” Eddie checked in.

“Yeah. You remember what you said last night? About loving me like I deserve?”

Eddie nodded.

“I want you to. And I want to love you back.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

[alphajocklover]

Hey, I've been in a relationship with my Korean boyfriend for some years now, and he keeps telling me things about this InstaJock app, and how he's gonna use it to make himself the biggest, most dominant muscular jock ever... I'm usually the one who tops though, so I'm a bit concerned over what that entails, could you help me out? I don't want to lose my twink...

I’ll admit, I’m a little unsure on how to answer your question, mainly because I’m not entirely sure how to interpret it. I might just be overthinking things, but to me it seems like your question can be interpreted in two different way. Both interpretations suggest a different kind of person asking and each have a different answer. So, let’s look at them both.

Our first scenario: you are a concerned boyfriend who is worried that InstaJock, a mysterious and possibly dangerous app that turns the user into a jock, will change your boyfriend in ways he doesn’t fully comprehend. You’re worried because you’re a loving boyfriend who is naturally worried about the man you love messing around with mysterious technology and altering his personality to the point he’s like a different person. If that’s the case my advice is to just talk to him. If you’re worried he’s rushing into this, tell his as much, and talk to him about why he wants to become a jock in the first place. Maybe he’ll go through with it, maybe he won’t, but if you talk about it beforehand things will probably be much better for both of you, and I’m sure you’ll be able to work this out. Maybe you’ll even get a hot jock boyfriend out of it.

The second scenario is that you’re not concerned about your boyfriend literally changing his identity, you’re concerned because you want to be the top. Which… honestly is kind of shitty man. Like, I get worrying about being sexually compatible with your boyfriend, but when you hear the love of your life is using a magic app to change basically everything about themselves, you’re first thought shouldn’t be ‘how will I be able to fuck him if he’s bigger than me.’ Lucky for you I’m going to give you an answer anyway. Hell, I’ll give you 3 possible answers.

Number 1: Top the Jock. I can’t believe I have to explain this, but just because he’s a jock doesn’t mean he’ll be a top. Sure most jocks are dominant studs who think with their ducks, but it’s possible to be a jock and bottom. There are submissive jocks, power bottom jocks, and plenty of vers jocks. Even if you both end up as tops, you could find a way to make it work. A lot of people do. But something tells me that’s not the answer that you really want. So let’s move onto our next answer.

Number 2: Become the Jock. If you don’t want your boyfriend to use InstaJock, one of the things you could do is use it first. Now, that won’t actually stop him from using the app, but considering his obvious infatuation with jocks I’m betting that if you became one, he’d do whatever you want. Jocks have a way of getting what they want, and I’m better a Korean twink like your boyfriend would be putty in your hands. He wouldn’t become a jock unless you wanted to, and you’d never lose your twink. This one is the one I think you’d like best, but… personally I enjoy the 3rd option the most.

Number 3: Join the Jock. This one is pretty similar to number 2, with one key difference: you both become jocks. Since you were bigger to begin with you’ll most likely be bigger after you get jockified, and then not only will you have a boyfriend with enough muscle to handle getting topped by your new beefy jock self, you’ll have a fellow jock to bro out with!

I’ll be honest, I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t know enough about your situation to know what’s right for you or your boyfriend. But let me know how it all works out in the end. I’m sure whatever happens… it’ll be very hot.

**hey guys! I have to say I had a lot of fun with this prompt. I kind of have a thing for buff Asian guys, if you can’t tell, and it’s always fun to do InstaJock stuff. I am sorry to say that I have no idea if anyone pictured is Korean or just generally Asian. Finding specific pictures online is hard so I tend to go with the closest I can get. Anyways, stay tuned!**

[diabolicalacid]

birds of a feather— orpheus and eurydice

warning/s : suggestive content (smut), minors DNI.

you find yourself peeking at the door every once in a while. your focus should be fixed on the art assignment sitting on the easel in front of you. you’re due for a submission this week. but the brush held in your right hand, busy filling in the colours between the lines that are supposed to be a rendition of orpheus and eurydice, halts every time you look away and divert your gaze to the door, postponing the completion of your painting furthermore.

you don’t understand why your brain is unable to comprehend the fact that losing your focus and staring at the door won’t make time go any faster. there will still be thirty days in a month, twenty four hours in a day, sixty minutes in a hour, so on and so forth.

in your defence, it’s been forty minutes already. forty whole minutes since you received a text from atsumu, who told you he’d show up to your dorm room in twenty minutes. you don’t want to think of him negatively. however, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been lied to once again by the same man, and if yes, how could you let it happen. you don’t want to doubt his word, but given the very recent history you share, you aren’t sure about the extent atsumu miya can be trusted to. in fact, you shouldn’t be wagering your trust in him at all.

because after last night, you really thought you had a chance with him only because he took you out on a wholesome date, made you feel like you’re on cloud nine, then fucked you dumb through the night. there’s no harm in saying that he led you on a little too much.

then, he went ahead and broke your fragile heart into a million tidbits. in his defence, he had a good enough reason to. now of course, he was clear about what he wanted from you, and under the circumstances that you were to date, you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to be thinking of some other chick while he’s with you. despite the realisation, your naive heart was and is still expecting more.

while you’re thinking through things, you realise, maybe, just maybe, you’re being a little delusional in this case. he was clear enough about his intentions, and you were the one who gave him a green light when it came to sex. putting the blame on him doesn’t cut it. if anything, you’re just as much to blame. but it’s easier for you to call him the bad guy. so that’s what you’ve been doing so far.

you think you need to buckle up and face the reality whatever it may be. whether atsumu remains in your life only as a friend or turns into a complete stranger, whether you end up dating him some time in the future, or if you end up in a casual relationship with him. no matter the outcome, you’ll have to face it head on without whining about it. consider it the consequences of your actions.

you leapt into something without giving it much thought, and now you must come to face the ending, may it be sweet or bitter. it doesn’t matter. you’ll have to accept things as they are. this is the philosophy you whisper to oneself, shading eurydice’s hair. you aren’t sure if she was a brunette or a blonde, so you stick to brown. kimura wouldn’t care much for it.

at twenty five minutes past three, there’s a knock at your door. you’re quick to drop your brush to the floor, splattering the pink paint on your carpet. you grimace at the splash of paint on your new carpet before you rush to the door.

you take a deep breath and arrange your thoughts before you open the door. you know it’s atsumu on the other side, and you have to train your brain before you let him in, so that this evening doesn’t lead to the same place last night led you to.

if he’s here for a conclusion, that’s all today will be focused on. although, you have to accept, last night was too good to be only a one time thing. so if his hands try something they shouldn’t, it might be difficult for you to resist as well. you really can’t blame yourself in this case, he was just too good last night. not that you can make a fair judgment, since he’s the only experience you’ve had so far.

there’s only so low you can stoop. from feeling absolutely ridiculous in your skin after you found out you were lied to by atsumu following your interaction last night, to thinking about offering yourself to him once again today, you can only curse yourself for having these thoughts.

in front of you, stands atsumu with a bouquet of flowers, not sunflowers, but roses. you bet he did that on purpose, but at least he got you flowers. it’s the thought that counts. there’s a transparent polythene bag in his hand containing snacks, a family sized tub of ice cream, and of course, the cake you made for him the night before, that he had taken with him when he left this morning. he really came prepared to save a damsel in distress. after ten years of rin, he sure does know how to warm a girl’s heart.

yours, being utterly gullible, is even easier to lure into a trap.

“here.” he holds out the bouquet of roses in the space separating the two of you, “for you.”

you offer him a bland smile, accepting the gift he has brought for you, “thank you.”

you head inside to place the bouquet of flowers on your bedside table, leaving atsumu hanging at the door. once the bouquet is set on the table, you turn around to return to him, hoping to relieve him of the load he’s come carrying.

you extend your hand, gesturing for him to offer you a few things to share the weight between the two of you. he hands you the packaged snacks sitting at the very top of the heap. you take them and enter inside, nudging atsumu, “come on in.” atsumu follows.

you roll your eyes, taunting, “you’re late.”

“sorry, cut-“ he stops, then rephrases and continues, “sorry, i mean, yn.”

your heart cracks when he refrains from calling you the nickname you were so generously offered yesterday. you don’t pay it much mind and continue walking ahead of him.

“i had to come over with resources.” he shrugs, patting your head, quipping at you, “for this whiny little girl.”

he mentions, “i had to take a detour, so of course, it took me some time.” his hand is still resting on your head as he follows you. you take it off and pick up pace.

you know he’s mocking you and that instantly spurs the anger within you. you want to turn around and smack him in the face, you want to show him stars in broad daylight, but you know better than to do that. you continue walking towards the tiny kitchen counter in your room to place the bags of snacks over it. atsumu follows, putting down the polythene bag on the countertop next to the snacks.

he picks out the packet of his favourite chips and his birthday cake from among the things he purchased for you and walks over to the bed. he jumps in, placing the packet of chips and the cake next to him.

from where he’s at, he can see you scanning around the various packets of snacks to pick out your favourite. you seem to be perplexed and unable to decide. he decides to help you out. he comes over to stand next to you, imitating your serious expression as you’re going through each packet. you look him from the corner of your eye, rolling your eyes as you pick out your favourite from the options available to you.

his hand curls itself around your waist, and he pulls you in by the side, whispering, “get me a spoon, will you?”

“what the hell?” you quake as his unexpected touch startles you.

you grip his hand and throw it off you. the audacity, you think to yourself. you turn around to face him, glaring daggers, seething, “behave.”

“you weren’t so stiff last night, cut—“ he smirks, then again, he stops mid sentence, clearing his throat, rephrasing, “yn.”

you roll your eyes at him, swatting his forehead, murmuring as you stand on your tip toes to lean closer to his face, deriving support by placing your hands around his neck, “just call me cutie if that’s what your mouth is trying to do.”

he looks at you, utterly smug, “that’s not what my mouth is trying to do, and you know it.”

you know exactly what he’s referring to, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, colouring them a dark shade of pink. atsumu kisses your flushed cheeks, putting his hand against your back.

“besides, i can’t risk it, someone takes things too seriously around here.” his palm moves to rest against the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer, his words falling onto your lips with only an inch of space separating them from his.

you choose to ignore the fact that he’s still taunting you. rather, it’s the proximity between the two of you that startles you. you can say it for a second time since crossing paths with atsumu, but you really weren’t expecting this.

you move back, finding yourself thrust against the edge of the counter. you turn your back on him and start nervously rummaging through the stand to look for two spoons, shaky hands unaware of what they’re looking for as you go through every utensil in the stand, coming across multiple spoons several times, but you fail to register the fact. he makes a note of this.

your hair is tied up, bound in a clutch, because you were busy painting and you didn’t want your it to be smeared in oil paint. atsumu unfastens your clutch, locking it around the sleeve of your sundress, allowing your long hair to flow against your back. you want to turn around and cuss him out, but you ask yourself not to. you want to grab your head and put it up in a bun. but you don’t. instead, you busy yourself, and you continue to look for spoons for the two of you.

you feel the air around you clear when atsumu walks away for a moment in response to his phone ringing. you breathe a sigh of relief, only to find yourself fooled. he cuts the call and makes his way back to you, coming to stand right behind you.

atsumu wraps his arms around your abdomen, resting his chin on your head, suggesting, “maybe i should help you look for cutlery.”

you squiggle your body, urging him to set you free. he lets go of you and positions himself next to you, intently staring at your nervous hands still looking around for the spoons, even though they’re resting right in front of you.

his hand takes a hold of yours, and he guides it around the counter in order to grab two spoons, poking your cheek, laughing, “here you go.”

he stands right behind you, grabbing your chin in his hand, with the other enveloping your waist. he leans forward, speaking in an undertone, “now, cutie. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” his breath is hot and as it settles against the skin of your face, your cheeks turn to red from the pink.

you gather yourself and hiss at him, shoving a butter knife through a pack of marshmallows lying on the counter, “no funny business.” atsumu drops your face, taking a step behind to create a distance between the two of you.

“we’re over.” you state, tossing the knife away.

he carefully collects your hair in his hands, positioning them in the front against your shoulder, exposing the skin of your back for him. atsumu envelopes his arms around your chest, catching you by surprise yet again. he leaves feathery kisses on the nape of your neck. then, on the skin of your back, forcing you to grip the edge of the counter.

he withdraws, shifting your hair to cover your back, mumbling next to your ear, “we were nothing to begin with.”

you’ve had enough. you pick the butter knife you previously threw away and turn around, threatening him, “you’ve got to stop.” the truth is, you’re enjoying this. it’s stimulating you and you wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance pleasuring yourself, but you don’t want to seem weak, so you decide to take a stand.

“just what are you here for?” you growl at him, hurling the knife at him, only because you know it won’t hurt. you’re no murderer, just a mad woman.

he raises his hand, catches the knife midway in the air, and snatches it away from your grasp. he twirls it between his fingers before he throws it to the floor, raising his brow at you, suspicious of your intent.

“i wasn’t actually going to hit you.” you mumble, scrunching your face.

atsumu suddenly sweeps you into his embrace, his hands engulfing you whole, making you lose balance, coercing you to take hold of his shoulders. you screech, eyes full of surprise wide open at him, “what the—“

“you ask what i’m here for, cutie?” he repeats your question to him, a coy smile lining his lips as he grabs a strand of your hair, curling it around his finger to play around with.

he answers, “to comfort you.” he kisses you on the lips. then, on your cheeks, followed by your neck, back to your lips.

you know you should push him away, but something about his tongue waging a passionate war with your own is enough for you to give in. his soft lips touching you at your weakest spots makes you weak in the knees. you’re no one to retaliate against a man who knows exactly what’s he’s doing. you don’t want to push him off you, you want more of him, and you want to give him more of you.

atsumu separates his lips from your own, and you’re gasping for breath. his hands find themselves trying to undress you, but you move, stealing your gaze away from him, denying, “not today.”

“i won’t give you any more of me if we’re not going to be exclusive.” you clarify, walking past him to take a seat on the bed.

he calls out in a playful tone to confirm, “you sure, cutie?”

“pretty much.” you raise your hand into a thumbs up, then pat the space next to you, inviting him to your bed.

atsumu jumps into the bed, rocking its frame, and takes the position right next to you. he gets comfortable against your pillow, and pulls you by the waist, closer to himself. you don’t refute, you only rest your head against his shoulder, placing the cake on his lap and the chips in the little space between the two of you.

you shove two spoons into the cake, one for each of you, making sly a remark, “this is what we should’ve done last night instead of what we actually did.”

atsumu let’s out a laugh, teasing you, “but you seemed to enjoy whatever we did.”

“you wanted more and more, cutie.” he simpers, his hand placed around your waist descends to reach your butt.

before he can spank you, you warn him, “stop.”

“no funny business.” you repeat yourself loud and clear, taking a spoonful of cake and placing it right in front of his mouth for him to eat.

he accepts your offering, his hand ascends and positions itself around your waist once again. he takes a spoonful of cake by himself and swallows it up before he reaches into the bag of chips to grab a few for himself.

you sigh, disappointment tainting your voice, “it seems this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

“it seems that way.” atsumu agrees, holding out a chip for you to take. you take it, crunching it down. he offers you a spoonful of cake, you take that as well. you offer him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a little cream on his skin.

he wipes it with his hand, and you take his hand into yours, licking the cream off his fingers. you wrap your fingers around his, leaning against his shoulder comfortably.

atsumu suggests something he probably shouldn’t, considering the grim consequences spending a single night with you led to, “we should meet up for fun some times.” you choke on thin air, coughing.

you reject his idea, practically shouting at him in capital letters, “NO.”

“today, i like you. tomorrow, i might end up loving you.” you start justifying yourself at a hundred miles an hour, stuttering in the way, “while you’ll still be thinking of rin.”

“i really wouldn’t like that.” with that, you stop, take a deep breath.

atsumu nods, gabbling with cake swishing around his mouth, “understandable.” he grabs another spoonful of cake to eat. but before he can put it in his mouth, you take the spoon from his hands and eat the cake yourself, getting rid of the spoon. you take the box of cake off his lap and shove it aside.

you put yourself right on top of him, putting one of your hands on his shoulder and the other against his neck. you kiss him on his tragus first, then at the corner of his eye, then you peck his nose, place a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, and finally, you kiss his chin, nibbing at it before you pause. his hand encircles your waist, supporting you as you continue to deposit kisses over his orofacial anatomy.

you mumble to him, lips pressing against his plender gap, “we shouldn’t meet up for fun.”

you continue kissing him, ascending to pull him by his collar, whispering against his lips, “doesn’t mean we can’t have fun for the last time, pretty boy.”

your hands, with a mind of their own, quite mischievous, lower themselves to unzip his jeans. you reach into his underwear to seize a hold of his cock. while stroking his dick with your hand, you lean closer to him, kissing him on the neck before you inquire, hoping to give him an erection as your hand gently explores his dick, “you like that?”

“oh my, cutie, you really are a feast to be around, huh?” he chuckles as he smirks at you, putting his hands on your back and your neck. you let go of his cock when you feel his grip tighten, thinking you’re overdoing it. he takes the opportunity to flip you over in an instant, quite effortlessly at that, taking you by surprise. he pins your hands to the side of your head, bending over to lay a kiss on your lips.

with him on top of you, and in control, his hands pull down the straps of your sundress, revealing your brasier that’s hot pink and strapless. he doesn’t care much for the colour, but the pattern that makes it very convenient for him to slide it off you, uncovering your breasts.

atsumu dips his fingers into the cake, smearing the cream against your cleavage. he proceeds to lick it off your cleavage. you aren’t sure where this is heading, but the next thing you know, his fingers are inside the cake again. this time, the cream is rendered on your boobs, and his tongue explores every inch of your breasts in an attempt to lick it all off you, sending your brain in a haze, irking you to whimper when you feel his tongue stroking your nipples.

“say, cutie, you like that?” he questions, raising a brow, smiling coyly at you.

you nod, huffing as you feel his hands cupping your boobs, and he squeezes them. you let out a cry.

he dips his fingers into the cake again, smearing the buttercream over your lips this time. he slowly licks it off your lips. you don’t find yourself pleasured by his action, so you dip your own fingers into the cake instead, and smear it on your breasts and your pussy.

“go on.” you order, winking at him as you grab his hair and pull his face closer to your chest.

he shakes his head, chuckling, “getting freaky, are we?”

atsumu’s tongue finds itself licking the cream off your breasts yet again, making you moan each time it slides over your nipples. he shifts himself downwards, pulling the dress off you as he goes down on you, layering your body with kisses. he throws it to the side.

his teeth grip the lace of your underwear, and he pulls it off your skin, tearing the fabric in the process. dropping it to the floor, atsumu’s tongue moves over to assist your pussy to clean itself. it explores the surface of your cunt, clearing it of the cream. once he’s done cleaning your cunt, he doesn’t stop there.

he inserts his fingers inside your hole, stroking your walls very slowly and steadily, making sure your feel every motion his fingers perform. feeling his fingers manoeuvre around your cunt effortlessly incites you to cum. your cum drips down his fingers, and he removes them outside to licks it off them, sneering at you as his tongue moves up his fingers, taking in your fluid.

atsumu puts his head between your legs again, shoving his tongue into your cunt, licking around your insides to stimulate you. when you cum once again, all over his tongue, he derives pleasure swallowing what came out of your cunt.

you’re so overstimulated by the movement of his tongue and his fingers, you find yourself gripping his hair and pulling him upwards and on top of you. your hasty hands take his jeans off him, then his underwear. you grab his dick, and begin stroking your hands over it. holding it firmly, you arch your back to reach closer and kiss his cock.

with your hands all over his cock, fidgeting around, his body can’t help but feel pleasured and the next thing he knows, he’s erect. his huge, veiny dick stares you in the face, making you proud of yourself. instantly, you want it inside your pussy or inside your mouth. either will do.

it takes you a lot of strength, but you tightly clutch onto his arms and flip him over. you take a seat on his legs, simultaneously dipping your fingers into the cake. you decorate his huge dick with the buttercream, ready to pleasure him for the evening.

your hands are sticky. you find your sundress lying next to you m, and wipe your dirty hands with it. you take hold of your clutch and secure your hair into a bun, making sure it doesn’t interfere. you bend over him.

you smugly smile at him, winking as you proceed to lick the cream off his large cock, gently stroking it concomitantly. every time the tip of your tongue coasts against the length of his dick, he feels his endorphins surge, and in the end, as you’re about to wipe the last bit of cream off him, he cums on your face.

you use your hands to wipe the creamy liquid off your face and smoothly slurp if off your hands. you go ahead and lap the cum dripping down his cock, taking it inside you without hesitation. atsumu cannot hold it back anymore. he needs to be inside of you. that’s the only way this evening will feel worth. his hands grip your body and he puts you under him.

he whispers into your ear, “okay, cutie, time to have some real fun.” with that, his huge cock is thrust inside your cunt. as you take it inside, you let out a humongous wail.

while he’s moving in and out of you, his veiny dick grazing past your walls, with the release of your pleasure hormones topping the charts, you can’t help but not want this moment to end at all.

౨ৎ summary of this chapter : what a waste of a perfectly good cake.

౨ৎ god sent down a brain cell and yn received it and put it to some use, but that didn’t last long.

౨ৎ atsumu didn’t get the roses on purpose, it’s just that the shop had run out of sunflowers.

౨ৎ atsumu had truly come over with the intention of “comforting” yn.

౨ৎ atsumu and yn need to be gifted some rubber.

previous : reality check

masterlist | next : men will be men

🐰my s/o is watching greys anatomy right now and he suggested i should break atsumu’s dick so that he stops fucking around with yn. if you know the reference, you know. okay, bye.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Desperation vs. Domestication

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 3161

Summary: Trapped aboard the Lost Light and chosen by a certain red-and-white samurai mech as the perfect sapien companion and tasty snack, you decide to form a rudimentary plan on possibly escaping your robot captors and finding your way back to Earth…while also realizing that spending months living as a pet has messed with your judgment on a greater scale than you previously realized.

This is based off of an ask I saw on Relic’s blog about what might happen if a human trapped aboard the Lost Light tried to escape via an escape pod, and I liked the idea so much that I had to write something based off of it. This is my first time writing for the Tasty Au and the First Contact Au and I must say I am quite happy with the result. This is inspired by Callsign-Relic’s Tasty Au, obviously, and I am so utterly fascinated with the whole concept, as well with First Contact scenarios in general, that this certainly won’t be my last time writing about this sort of thing. Thank you all for reading and thank you to @callsign-relic for giving me permission to write about it!

Also available to read on AO3!

Here is the link to pt. 2!

Sticky globs of synthetic saliva coat your shivering body as you are carefully slipped out of the massive mech’s cerulean mouth. The red-and-white bot nuzzles you gently with his nose, cooing to you in soft alien words. You don’t understand his language; to your ears, he speaks with the purr of a car engine, the rumble of machinery, the smooth hum of something distinctively much, much bigger than you. And yet, after months of being trapped aboard this titanic starship, surrounded by these massive extraterrestrial robots that have turned your life upside down, you’ve come to comprehend some simple, short phrases your mech typically only says to you: Good. Proud. Love you.

  You hate how you lean into his touch. You hate how you cling to these few words you can translate. You hate how your heart softens for him as he sets you down on his desk and begins to clean you up, rubbing his saliva off of you with a towel. You protest softly when he smushes you gently with both hands, struggling feebly before you reluctantly give up and go still. He chuckles deeply and shushes you. “Shhh, shhh….Safe…Safe.”

  After a few minutes, he nods to himself, satisfied with his work. You stare at him with the deadpan look of a cat who was just dumped into a bathtub while he retrieves a fuzzy blanket from his bed and wraps you up in it snugly. The part of you that still clings to your autonomy wants to scream and shove his fingers away when he slowly rubs your scalp. It wants to curse him out and tell him you despise him, how you are traumatized because of him and the rest of his kind.

  And yet, you can’t.

  You know he won’t understand you. You know you’ve developed feelings for him in your weak, pathetic heart. Your bot cares for you. It is obvious in the way he treats you, and you can tell it’s gone beyond seeing you as a pet. He calls you sweet. Little one. He’s never hit you, never yelled at you, and actually respects your boundaries when you express them…sometimes. There are some days where you have clearly shown you don’t want to be eaten. He listens. Those days are few, but they happen regardless. You can’t help but sympathize with him. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it delusion, but you are at war with yourself, one side begging you to resist, the other side wishing to submit and accept the role you have been forced into.

  Your mech scoops you up. For a good minute, he simply holds you, purring deeply while he traces circles against your back with his thumb. It feels good, and you hate that it does. His heavy rumbles are soothing. Despite what one might think, being eaten, massaged by a mechanical stomach for hours, and then regurgitated is an exhausting experience to go through. You find fatigue tugging at the back of your mind while your eyes flutter shut and you yawn.

  The mech coos. “Sleep,” he whispers to you, his voice smooth as honey. “Sleep.”

  If this were your first time, you would have fought it. But it’s not your first time, and you know resisting will get you nowhere closer to escaping. Darkness pulls you into its embrace with the glow of his eyes flickering in the background until it too fades away. It doesn’t take long for you to give in.

  His name is Drift. That’s the first thing you think when you wake up. His name is Drift, and he saved you from the first set of robots that plucked you from your home and carried you off into space, saving you from one personal hell and thrusting you into another. It did not matter if this particular hell was a rather comfortable one. It was hell regardless. To have your sense of self snatched away from you, to be reduced to nothing more than a pet and a snack, to know you are possibly light years away from Earth and you are utterly alone here is enough to drive you insane.

  You sit up slowly and groan, running a hand through your tousled hair. You're still wrapped up in the blanket Drift gave you, and you're resting on his berth. It’s covered with more blankets and even pillows, all courtesy of the mech who has done what he can to make your life here as comfortable as possible. The lights are dimmed. Drift is nowhere to be seen. He must have had some other matters to attend to and decided to give you a moment of solitude while you were resting. It was considerate of him. The sympathetic side of you feels appreciation. All that’s left is relief he is not here to stuff you back into his maw.

  Drift does not understand you. In his eyes, you are simply an adorable little creature he has adopted. He cannot speak your language, and you cannot speak his. No level of displaying your intelligence will ever prove to him that you are worthy of being considered a true person by him or the other mechs. Oh, he cares. You know he does. He’s not a bad guy. You’ve seen bad, and he’s a welcome change from it. But he will never view you as an equal. You are simply just an animal in his mind’s eye.

  Your fists clench with subdued rage without you even realizing it at first. The frustration bubbles up and leaves a foul taste on your tongue. You’ve screamed. You’ve begged. You’ve done everything you can to show them that you do not belong here. But they don’t listen. He doesn't listen. You're too cute, too tasty. For the first time in your life, you truly wish you had it in you to be a violent person and live up to the horrible reputation humans have given themselves on their own planet. Maybe if you had the power to destroy like the rest of your kind can, the mechs would finally learn to respect you. But human beings only destroy what is theirs. And here? Not even you belong to yourself anymore.

  “Damnit,” you whisper under your breath. You haven’t felt this level of helplessness in a long time. Your chest tightens, and hot tears trickle down your cheeks and drip off your chin. You close your eyes and grit your teeth as a low sob heaves up from your throat.

  “I want to go home,” you say to no one in particular. There’s no one to hear you. Even the gods of your world are too far away to listen to your prayers. “Please. Please. I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

  So why don’t you?

  Your eyes fly open.

  Wait.

  There are escape pods on this ship.

  You’ve only seen them once. Drift usually keeps you perched on his shoulder when he travels around the ship and tends to his duties. He’s walked by them before. They’re towards the middle of the vessel, all lined up in single file. 

  What if you were to steal one?

  A plan begins forming in your mind. It’s stupid. It’s risky. It could cost you your life. But you're so scared, and you’ll do anything to relieve that fear. You could return to Earth…you could go home.

  You look around Drift’s room, taking in how absolutely massive everything is compared to you. The escape pods will be the same. One single little human will have a hard time piloting it. But what other choice do you have? Sit here and live the rest of your life as a pet?

  A part of you actually finds it tempting. But you can’t let that side of you win. You cannot allow yourself to slip into the stupor that is slowly breaking your spirit. You must keep fighting. You must take back what was stolen from you: your life.

  Drift is not a stifling owner. He does not demand your attention 24/7. He understands you need your space, and usually, if you protest enough, he will simply coo at you understandingly and leave you in his room for a few hours while he leaves.

  You come up with a plan. It’s not a particularly stable one, and there are way too many points where it could go horribly wrong. But you will go through with it anyway, because you don't know how much longer you can take this. You're desperate for release, frantic for an escape from this nightmare reality you are in. You will find a way back home. You can’t give up. You refuse to give up. You are a human being. You belong on Earth.

  As much as your plan relies on Drift leaving you alone, it also depends on his presence too. It’s impossible to traverse this starship by yourself. To be seen without your mech companion would lead to some robotic stranger scooping you up and bringing you right back to square one.

  So, you will have to trick Drift.

  You will use the advantage of your harmless appearance and have him bring you to the escape pods. You could blast away right under his nose and he won’t even know it because his belief that you are just an innocent, adorable little thing who can barely think for yourself is just too strong.

  Guilt flashes through you.

  He has no way of understanding, a tiny voice whispers inside your mind. It’s not his fault there’s a language barrier between the two of you. He’s trying his best. He’s trying. Can’t you appreciate that?

  He views me as a pet, you think back. He thinks I’m an animal. A snack. Is abandoning my will as a human being worth it if it means I please him?

  Yes.

  The realization makes your heart sink.

  Are you really that far gone? Have you become that accustomed to your life here? Have…have you truly been broken in?

  The soft whoosh of the room door opening interrupts your thoughts. Drift slips in on silent feet; you still don’t know how such a large mechanical creature can move so quietly. He doesn’t look at you, and instead trudges to the mirror attached to the wall opposite his berth with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him staring at himself with a complicated expression. His mouth tightens and his hand rises to slowly begin tracing the metal beneath his eyes. You watch, with growing concern, as he just…looks. He’s observing his features, taking in every scar, every dent in his armor, every sign of age.

  He vents out a soft exhale. With a surprising amount of weariness, he takes his swords and places them on their display stand.

  “Drift?” you call out to him.

  He turns to focus on you. His eyes immediately soften, and his grimace uplifts into a tired smile.

  He looks so much older than he really is.

  Your heart twists painfully. All of your previous foul thoughts towards him vanish as your empathy takes over and you raise your arms to make grabby hands at him. This is a language anyone can understand: Pick me up please?

  He wastes no time in obliging. Swords and reflection forgotten, he makes it to you in four long strides. Gentle fingers push the blanket aside and free you from your fabric burrito. They curl around you, holding you in his right palm while he slowly lifts you up and slips his left hand under to support you. You no longer feel the queasy flip of your stomach turning circles from the dizzying experience of watching the floor grow further and further away. That reaction was long lost with your time here.

  He presses you to his chest. The metal is warm, and deep within, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. It thrums through your entire body and causes you to shudder with awe. This is an alien being, one you hardly understand. Yet, he has a heartbeat. It connects the two of you, in a way. As your heart begins to beat in tandem with his, you feel so small. Yet…it helps you feel for him all the more, because it proves he is alive.

  After a few minutes of hugging you, Drift lifts you higher. The soft blue glow of his eyes washes over you as the mech observes your tiny face. There’s a moment when he pauses, and then his thumb caresses your cheek, lightly running over the stains decorating your skin from your previous bout of tears. His smile falls into a concerned frown.

  “Little one?” he whispers. He knows what tears are. You’ve heard him cry himself to sleep some nights. So he must understand you are not in a particularly good headspace right now.

  “Drift,” you whisper back. He whines when he hears how your voice trembles. With great sadness weighing his expression down, he brings you close and presses his lips gently to your forehead.

  You automatically freeze, and your eyes widen in shock as you feel the slightly plush metal against your skin. It’s so…intimate. All too quickly, you melt into the embrace, closing your eyes as a fresh wave of emotion washes over you and threatens to unleash the waterworks again. You sniffle and cling to him. “I hate that I’m enjoying this,” you quietly say.

  He hums in response and slowly pulls away. The smile he offers you is so sweet, it makes your heart skip. You feel like a foolish schoolgirl in love. It’s the wrong emotion for the wrong person in the most wrong scenario you could ever imagine, but it feels so right.

  He leans back in, and you think you are going to receive another kiss. But then his mouth opens wider and you have a full display of the squishy segmented tongue that’s shifting in eager anticipation for the taste it desires: you. Strings of saliva connect between metal teeth as large as your head. Inside, there’s light that softly pulses with the same color as his eyes, and it runs all the way down into his throat, illuminating the journey you know you are about to take. Fear jumps through you. “Drift,” you say, pushing frantically at his fingers. “Drift, wait!”

  “Shhhh,” he murmurs. There are some incomprehensible words that, to your ears, sound like the garbled slurs of a broken radio. Your mind works overtime to comprehend. “Little one…safe…comfort…”

  Oh.

  He wants to comfort you.

  You feel absolutely disgusted with yourself when you bite your bottom lip and contemplate his request.

  Unfortunately, Drift doesn’t give you a chance to decide whether to accept or not. Apparently, your tears are really worrying him. With one last reassuring purr, he delicately pushes you into his mouth. You yelp when his tongue curls around your little body to begin slicking you up for a smoother ride. Drift rolls you around carefully, tasting every inch of your exposed skin with happy hums of pure pleasure.

  You want to fight off the large muscle and demand he open his mouth to release you. However, you know there is no point. He’s not listening to you today. He believes this is the only way to bring you the reprieve you need. So, you give in. You go limp and allow your mech to toy with you.

  He presses you to the roof of his mouth and suckles gently. A low moan rumbles up from within him. You are delicious. You know you are delicious. The way he savors you both terrifies you on a raw, existential level, and also makes you feel…wanted, in a way. He wants you. He cares about you. This is just another way of him showing it.

  Eventually, his tongue lowers, and everything goes tipsy as Drift tilts his head and begins to push you towards the back of his throat. You instinctively scrabble at the base of the biomechanical muscle, but you cannot stop yourself from sliding back. When you look behind you and see the pulsing metal waiting to slurp you down into its dark, wet confines, you want to scream.

  “Glk.”

  One gulp.

  That’s all it took for Drift to swallow you.

  It is extremely unnerving to be reminded of how small you are.

  You are sucked into Drift’s throat with no resistance. The glow of his mouth sticks with you while you are squeezed downward from all sides by the soft, moist walls of his esophagus. You wriggle as much as you can, but it is virtually impossible to move due to how tight the passage is. You find yourself holding your breath as you close your eyes and try to remain calm while you listen to the steady sounds of his internal systems working to keep him alive: the heavy thudding of his heart. A rhythmic intake and outtake of air that is eerily reminiscent of human breathing. There are other low whirrs and hums you cannot identify as well. All consuming. All just for you to hear.

  Space opens up beneath you, and you drop into his stomach with a wet plop. The organ gurgles, welcoming you back like an old friend. You bounce a little as the floor jiggles, then you find yourself sinking into the mesh metal. The walls close in, squeezing you, kneading at you, all while a melody of rumbles and groans fill the space. You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath as you lay on your back and stare up at the soft biolights all around you, filling the stomach with a comforting hue.

  Something presses against you from the outside: Drift’s hand. Above you, the mech says something. His voice is soft, yet loud at the same time. You are utterly, completely surrounded by him. Locked away behind all of this metal, you truly feel like you are his.

  For some reason, this is not as scary as it usually is.

  You sit up and try to wipe saliva off of your face, but only succeed in smearing it all over you even more. Drift speaks again. “Little one?” His tone is urgent, worried. The stomach growls with nervous trepidation.

  You crawl on your hands and knees to the organ’s wall. Sitting up, you press your hand into the wet muscle, watching as your fingers sink into the squishy grooves. “I’m okay, Drift,” you murmur. “I’m okay.”

  You feel him relax all around you. Drift presses his hand right over where yours is and rubs you tenderly. You cuddle up against him and close your eyes, listening to your mech’s happy purrs, enjoying the feeling of being constantly massaged by his stomach.

  It is warm.

  You are warm.

  You no longer want to cry.

  Maybe…maybe you can put off your escape plan. Just for a little longer.

[darylsdelts]

Hc for Daryl with a reader that had a similar upbringing but is the opposite? Like instead of being cold and guarded like he is, they're super affectionate and forgiving with others?

I was gonna say that this is so me but then I realised I’m not super affectionate… so this is so me apart from that part😭

Before Daryl properly knew you, he had assumed you had the perfect life before the fall. A nice family and two loving parents who spoiled you because you just seemed perfect.

When the two of you got closer, eventually Daryl opened up little by little about his father and his past and how he was brought up and you sympathised, telling him you understood.

Of course he scoffed and didn’t believe you but you left it at that for a while. You’re similar to daryl in the way that it takes a while for you to be ready to talk about certain things.

But eventually you do, you tell Daryl you’re like him but he refuses which is a little confusing.

“Nah, ya ain’t nuthin’ like me girl…”

“I am Daryl, we went through similar shit”

“Yeah maybe, but ya ain’t like me… ya ain’t… fucked”

Daryl finds it hard to comprehend how you can be so loving and forgiving with others when you’d been through similar situations to him and yet he’s the way he is.

He asks you how you do it, how you give so much of yourself to others and how you’re so attentive and… “normal” is how he puts it (believing that himself is not).

“You can’t be afraid forever, Daryl… what happened to us doesn’t define the rest of our lives”

Daryl can’t help the feeling he gets, he’s so unbelievably drawn to you. The way you’re so gentle with him and you don’t judge, you just listen and he wishes he could’ve known you before, when he was younger.

He nicknames you “sunshine” because that’s what you are to him.

You’re the only person who sees how he gets when he’s down, the only person who can help him get the tears out but also stop them.

And he’s the only person who knows about your past.

You’re always so kind to everyone but every now and then, Daryl can sense when you’re wearing yourself out. When you’re giving away so much and not getting anything back from the others.

That’s when he’ll put his foot down. When you come home he’ll hold you on his lap and give the talk he gives every now and then about not overdoing it.

“Ya gotta stop bein’ so damn perfect, sunshine. You’re tirin’ yerself out, baby… gotta look after yerself too, ya hear?”

You always protest a little, saying you’re fine but in the end he has your head on his chest whilst he strokes your hair as you doze off.

You both learn how to take care of each other and you both know the signs of your lover wearing themselves out.

You show him that not all people are out to hurt him and that he won’t get left behind.

He denies it but you know he’s always worried that if he’s struggling and he shows it then you’ll leave him but you’re good at squeezing the worry out of him, even if it means he sheds a few tears. He’s allowed and he begins to learn that.

I need him 😭