#i just got home from a con yesterday

[edenfire]

🌸🌊 Haru Week - Day 2 - Oasis 🌊🌸

I know this is haru week, but you know he's happiest when makoto is around🥺💚💙

pls root for me to be able to finish all the prompts! I'm trying really hard🥺🙏

[hansensgirl]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn��t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[buckets-and-trees]

Bird On A Wire

Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader x Mafia!Steve Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Caught by two dangerous men, you see the skies ahead for you as their little bird. Sequel to Little Lark.

Content/Warnings: dub-con, explicit smut, cockwarming, oral (male receiving), PIV sex, anal fingering (female receiving), use of pet name (little lark), dacryphilia, so much praise kink

Author Notes: Week eight of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - using the COCKWARMING and dialogue prompts (dialogue prompt bold/italicized) - and filling my May box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with PRAISE KINK.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you were on a flight to New York City. Private jet. In the clothes you’d worn yesterday, but they’d been laundered overnight. You’d slept naked in the bed of Barnes and Rogers - with what little sleep they allowed you to have.

You’d been allowed a few hours of sleep just before dawn and given a modicum of reprieve as the men woke for the day, ordered room service, and got to business. When your laundered clothes had been delivered, they’d plucked you out of bed, and told you to dress and be ready to leave within a few minutes.

You sat stiffly in the plush leather seat. As the jet soared over the clouds, you stared out the window, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The events of the past 24 hours felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. Your body ached, a constant reminder of the previous night's activities. The sapphire pendant hung heavy around your neck, its weight a physical manifestation of your new reality.

Bucky and Steve sat across from you. You tried not to look at them, but your eyes kept darting over, drawn by some magnetic pull you couldn't explain.

Steve was typing away on a laptop while Bucky leafed through some papers, both of them seemingly unconcerned with your presence. You tried to steady your breathing, to appear calm, but your mind raced with questions and fears about what awaited you in New York.

You couldn't help but marvel at how normal they seemed in the light of day, dressed in crisp suits, sipping coffee. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were just successful businessmen.

"We'll be landing in about an hour," Steve informed you, breaking into your thoughts. "Once we're home, we'll get you settled in."

Home. The word felt foreign. You wondered what kind of life awaited you in New York.

"I… I don't have any of my things," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky looked up from his papers, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, little lark. We'll take care of everything you need."

Steve nodded in agreement. "You'll want for nothing. Clothes, toiletries, anything you require - it's all been arranged." His eyes roamed over you appreciatively. "We take care of what's ours."

You shivered at his words, unsure if it was from fear or something else entirely. The way they looked at you made you feel both terrified and oddly… desired.

But the implication was clear: they had planned this, had known exactly how things would unfold. You swallowed hard, trying to process the level of control they already had over your life.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "And my family? You said... you said you knew about them."

"Safe and sound," Bucky assured you, his tone oddly gentle. "We've already arranged for their debts to be cleared and their protection to be... ongoing."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly. "As far as they know, you've accepted a lucrative job offer in New York. They’ll believe you’re busy, and you will be.”

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" you asked, voicing another of the many questions swirling in your mind. "You said you don't need an assistant..."

Steve closed his laptop and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Your job, sweetheart, is to keep us happy.”

“In every way,” Bucky added.

You felt your face flush at their words, memories of the previous night flashing through your mind. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting in your lap.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Steve reached across and took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It means you'll be by our side, day and night. At home, at social events, in business meetings. You'll learn to anticipate our needs, to be whatever we require in the moment."

Bucky's eyes glinted as he added, "And in private, you'll pleasure us. Satisfy our every desire."

Your breath caught in your throat. The reality of your situation was sinking in deeper with each passing moment.

"But I'm not... I don't have experience with..." you trailed off, embarrassed.

Steve's eyes darkened, a predatory glint appearing. "Oh, you can. And you will."

Bucky set aside his papers and leaned forward, mirroring Steve's posture. "We're not unreasonable men, little lark. Please us, and you'll find life can be very... pleasurable."

The implication in his tone made you shiver. You remembered all too well the sensations they had drawn from your body the night before, against your will and better judgment.

"But disappoint us," Steve continued, his voice low and dangerous, "and there will be consequences.”

You felt every muscle in your body tense.

Steve’s phone buzzed, and he stood abruptly, dropping your hand and walking away to take the call.

“We’ll start with something simple.” Bucky reached for your other hand and guided you to your feet. The jet's cabin suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. You could smell his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine.

"Let's see how well you can follow instructions," Bucky murmured, his voice low and husky. His steel-blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Take off your panties."

Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding. You glanced nervously at Steve, still on his phone call at the other end of the cabin.

"Eyes on me, little lark," Bucky commanded softly, drawing your attention back. "Steve's busy. This is between you and me right now."

With trembling hands, you reached under your skirt. You hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding your panties down your legs, stepping out of them. Bucky's gaze never wavered, patient but unyielding. Bucky held out his hand and you placed the delicate fabric in his palm. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply before pocketing them with a smirk.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now, unzip my pants and take my cock out."

Your eyes widened, darting nervously to Steve again. He was still engrossed in his call, pacing at the far end of the cabin.

“Lark,” Bucky growled, and your eyes darted back to him, the warning clear. “I said eyes on me,” he reminded, bringing his hand to your cheek, and tracing along the edge of your jaw. You knew the tender gesture was a signal that he could grip your jaw and force you to do what he wanted.

You knelt before him, and with shaking hands, you reached for his belt buckle. The leather was soft and supple under your fingers as you worked it open. Bucky's breath hitched slightly as your knuckles brushed against his abdomen. You fumbled with the button of his trousers before managing to undo it, then slowly lowered the zipper.

Bucky's eyes never left your face, watching your every reaction. You could feel the heat radiating from Bucky's body, smell his intoxicating scent.

Your fingers trembled as you reached into Bucky's pants, feeling the heat of his skin. You carefully extracted his cock, already half-hard and impressive in size. The weight of it in your hand made your breath catch. You stroked him tentatively, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over rigid flesh.

Bucky's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "That's it, little lark. Nice and slow," he murmured, voice husky.

You continued your ministrations, feeling him grow fully erect under your touch. Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. The cabin suddenly felt too warm, too small. Everything the night before had been the two of them working you while you took what they gave. It was different now with you being the one taking action.

"Enough," Bucky growled softly after a few moments. He grasped your wrist, stilling your movements. "Up in my lap."

Heart pounding, you obeyed as he tugged you up and guided you to straddle his waist. You tentatively braced your hands on his shoulders. He pushed your skirt up and out of the way, before guiding you onto his cock. “You’ll warm my cock the rest of the flight, maybe this’ll help you relax.”

Your trembled and gasped as he pulled your hips down. He found little resistance, as your traitorous body was already growing slick for him, but your cunt was sore from taking their enormous cocks the night before. Quiet tears slipped down your face, but you bit your lip, not wanting to make him unhappy.

He brushed one of your tears away with his thumb and smiled at you, half tender, half patronizing.

Your breath caught as you felt Bucky's cock stretching you, filling you completely. He held you still once you were fully seated, hand gripping your hip firmly.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear. Then he gently coaxed your head onto his shoulder. "Now, stay nice and still. Don't move unless I tell you to."

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. The position was intimate, almost unbearably so. You could feel every twitch of Bucky's cock inside you, every slight shift of his body. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still.

Steve's voice drifted over from the other end of the cabin as he continued his phone call. The normalcy of his tone, discussing what sounded like business matters, was a stark contrast to your current situation. You felt exposed, vulnerable, even though you were still fully clothed. Your face burned with shame and arousal. You couldn't believe you were doing this, sitting in Bucky's lap with his cock inside you while Steve was just feet away.

When you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching a few minutes later, you tensed.

"Good girl," he praised, one hand moving to stroke your back soothingly. "You're doing so well."

“Isn’t she?” Bucky cooed.

And your body betrayed you again, clenching around Bucky's length over their praise.

Bucky chuckled darkly.

“She like that, Buck?”

"Mmm,” he hummed. “Our little lark is a slut for praise.”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Is that so?" Steve crouched down beside Bucky’s seat. His hand came to rest on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Look at me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, you lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and met Steve's intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. I bet you're dripping wet, aren't you?"

You whimpered softly, unable to form words. Steve's fingers ghosted over your clit, making you jerk slightly in Bucky's lap. Bucky's grip on your hip tightened in warning.

"Answer him," Bucky’s town was low but sharp.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I'm wet."

Steve's smirk widened. "Of course you are. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet." His fingers continued their teasing exploration, circling your clit with feather-light touches. "You're going to learn to crave this, sweetheart. To need us."

A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction. Bucky's grip tightened further, holding you still.

"Ah ah," he chided softly. "I said don't move unless I tell you to."

"S-sorry," you gasped, trying to regain control of your body.

Steve chuckled, his fingers never ceasing their torturous ministrations, tracing where you were stretched around Bucky's cock. The dual sensation of being filled by Bucky and teased by Steve was overwhelming. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction.

Bucky gave a warning slap to your ass, and you hissed from the sting.

You froze, trying desperately to stay still despite the sensations overwhelming you. Tears pricked at your eyes from the effort and the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

"Shh, it's okay," Steve soothed, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "We know it's hard for you. You're doing so well."

His praise sent another surge of arousal through you, making you clench around Bucky's cock. Bucky groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Such a responsive little thing," he murmured, nuzzling against your neck. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

Steve's fingers continued their teasing, circling your clit with maddeningly light touches. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still, your breath coming in short gasps.

Steve's eyes glinted with amusement. "I think our girl needs a lesson in true self-control, Buck. What do you say?"

Bucky nodded, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Couldn't agree more."

Your heart raced as you looked between them, uncertain of what they had in mind. Steve stood, towering over you, and began unbuckling his belt. The sound of leather sliding through fabric loops made you shiver.

"Open your mouth, little lark," Steve commanded, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, glancing at Bucky, who gave you an encouraging nod. Slowly, you parted your lips, your breath coming in short, shallow pants.

Steve guided his cock to your mouth, rubbing the tip against your lips. "You're going to take me in your mouth while staying perfectly still on Bucky's cock.”

You trembled as Steve's thick length slid past your lips. The taste of him, musky and slightly salty, filled your senses. You struggled to relax your jaw, to accommodate his impressive size, fighting against how it ached from taking them both in your mouth in turns last night, too.

"That's it, sweetheart," Steve murmured, one hand tangling in your hair. "Nice and slow. Use your tongue."

You did as instructed, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pushed deeper into your mouth. All the while, you fought to keep your hips still, Bucky's cock a constant, throbbing presence inside you.

Bucky's hands roamed your body, teasing and caressing, kneading the fleshy parts of you everywhere, as ravenous for your hips as your stomach, your chest, your ass, your thighs . He cupped your breasts through your blouse, thumbs brushing over your nipples. The dual sensations - Steve in your mouth, Bucky inside you and touching you - were overwhelming.

"Look at her, Buck," Steve's voice was thick with desire as he slowly thrust into your mouth. "Look at how well she's taking us both. Such a good little cockwarmer."

You whimpered around Steve's length, the praise sending another surge of arousal through you. Your body trembled with the effort of staying still, every muscle taut as you fought against the urge to move.

Bucky's hands continued their exploration, one sliding beneath your blouse to palm your breast directly. His thumb brushed over your nipple, making you gasp around Steve's cock.

"That's it," Steve encouraged, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. "Just relax and let us use you. This is what you're made for."

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mix of shame and arousal overwhelming you. You felt split open, exposed, caught between these two powerful men who seemed determined to consume and control you.

The plane suddenly hit a patch of turbulence, jostling everyone. You gasped and instinctively clenched around Bucky, causing him to groan. Steve's cock slipped from your mouth as you struggled to maintain your balance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you began, panic rising in your chest.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, his hand gentle at the back of your neck. "That wasn't your fault."

Bucky's hands steadied you on his lap. "Deep breaths, little lark. You're doing so well."

Their unexpected gentleness made your eyes sting with unshed tears. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself.

"Now, where were we?" Steve mused, guiding his cock back to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart."

You parted your lips obediently and Steve pushed in again, but even deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. Your jaw ached, stretched wide around his girth. Bucky's hands continued to roam your body, teasing and tormenting, while his cock remained buried inside you. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure and discomfort blurring together.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Taking us both so well." You whimpered around his length, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he added, letting his other hand play through your tear tracks.

The praise sent another surge of arousal through you, your body betraying you once again as you clenched around Bucky's cock. Bucky chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel how wet you are, little lark. Your body knows what it needs, even if you’re reluctant to accept your new life. But you’re dripping for us, desperate.”

You felt your face burn with shame at Bucky's words, knowing they were true. Despite your fear and uncertainty, your body was responding eagerly to their touch, craving more. Steve continued to thrust slowly into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You struggled to breathe through your nose, tears streaming down your face.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly. You raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. "That's it. I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth."

A muffled whimper escaped you, the dual sensations of Steve's cock in your mouth and Bucky's inside you becoming consuming every fiber of your being, every ounce of your existence.

Steve's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. You struggled to keep up, your jaw aching as you tried to accommodate his impressive girth. His blue eyes, dark with desire, never left yours as he fucked your mouth with increasing fervor.

"That's it, little lark," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Take it all."

You could feel him swelling, growing impossibly harder on your tongue. The taste of him intensified - salty, musky, undeniably male. Your senses were overwhelmed, filled with nothing but Steve and Bucky.

Steve's breathing grew ragged, his thrusts more erratic. "I'm close," he warned, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're going to swallow every drop, understand?"

You whimpered around his cock, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky's hands continued their torturous exploration of your body, one hand kneading your breast while the other slipped between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with maddening lightness. You moaned around Steve's cock, your hips twitching involuntarily.

"Ah ah," Bucky chided, stilling his movements. You mewled in protest of losing his ministrations to your throbbing clit, but in the next instant, Steve’s hips jerked forward, and he groaned, burying his cock deep in your throat as he began to climax. The first pulse of his release hit the back of your throat, hot and thick. You struggled not to gag, tears streaming down your face as you fought to swallow around his length.

"That's it," Steve growled, his voice strained. "Take it all."

Wave after wave of his seed flooded your mouth, coating your tongue with its salty-sweet flavor. You swallowed frantically, trying to keep up with the copious amount. Some escaped the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin.

Steve's hand tightened at the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he continued to empty himself into your mouth. The taste, the scent, the feeling of being so thoroughly used - it all overwhelmed your senses.

As Steve's release finally subsided, he slowly withdrew from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. You gasped for air, your jaw aching and your throat raw. Steve's thumb brushed over your swollen lips, smearing the mixture of his seed and your saliva.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "You took it all so well."

Bucky's fingers resumed their torture of your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled in his lap, fighting against the urge to move, to seek more friction.

"I think our little lark deserves a reward, don't you, Steve?" Bucky's voice was husky in your ear.

Steve nodded, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't agree more."

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky's hands gripped your hips, and he fucked up into you, violently, but you welcomed it with a debauched moan, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he drove into your aching, needy cunt.

Bucky's pace was relentless, his cock driving into you with bruising force. Your head fell back, a strangled cry escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through your body. The change from stillness to frenzied movement was jarring, overwhelming your senses.

Each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, mouth open in a groan of ecstasy as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. The cabin filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

"That's it, little lark," Bucky growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Sing for us. Let us hear your pretty sounds."

Steve's hand came to rest on your throat, not squeezing, just a gentle pressure. A reminder of his presence, of his control. "You're ours now," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Every sound, every reaction - it all belongs to us."

You whimpered, caught between shame and arousal. Your body responded eagerly to their touches, to their words, even as your mind reeled with the implications of your new reality.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You couldn't form words, could only whimper and nod as Bucky continued his merciless assault on your senses. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

"Tell us," Bucky demanded, his grip on your hips tightening. "Tell us how much you love it."

"I-I love it!” you cried.

Without warning, Steve plunged a finger into your ass, and the shock and overwhelming sensation sent you careening into a blinding orgasm. The clenching and convulsion of your cunt made Bucky jerk and then drill into you even faster, spilling his release in height of your climax.

You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Steve began soothing your back, petting up and down, cooing more soft praises as you struggled to stay coherent.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, you collapsed against Bucky's chest, trembling and gasping for air. Your mind was a haze of pleasure and confusion, your body wrung out and oversensitive. Bucky's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he softened inside you.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You did so well."

Steve's hand continued its soothing motion along your back. "Beautiful," he added, his voice low and appreciative.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened and the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Shame, arousal, fear, and a strange sense of... belonging? It was all too much.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, sensing your distress. "Let it out.”

After a few more minutes, once your breathing had finally returned to normal, you pushed back from Bucky’s chest, and made to move off his lap.

He tsked at you and frowned.

"Not yet, little lark," Bucky murmured, keeping you firmly seated on his lap. "I want you to feel me inside you a bit longer. Let it sink in who you belong to now."

You shivered at his words, acutely aware of his softening cock still nestled within you, still so big inside you. Your body felt boneless, wrung out from the intensity of your orgasm, and the sticky mix of your combined spend was weeping slightly around his cock, and you could feel it.

Steve's hand came to rest on the back of your neck, a gentle but possessive touch. "We're going to take such good care of you," he reminded, his voice low and soothing. "You'll want for nothing."

You nodded weakly, unable to form words. Your mind was still reeling, trying to process everything that had happened. You felt fresh tears welling up, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation and your own conflicted emotions. Part of you wanted to fight, to rebel against this new reality they were forcing upon you. But another part - a part that grew stronger with each passing moment - craved their touch, their approval.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly, finally taking the seat again next to Bucky.

Hesitantly, you raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, but there was also a hint of something else - possessiveness, perhaps even tenderness.

"You're ours now," he said, his voice low and firm. "Everything about you belongs to us - your body, your pleasure, your pain. We'll push you to your limits and beyond, but we'll also take care of you in ways you've never imagined."

You shivered at his words, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. Bucky's hands stroked soothingly along your sides, a stark contrast to the bruising grip he'd had on your hips moments ago.

"We know this is a lot to take in," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You'll learn to love it. To crave it."

As if to emphasize his point, he shifted slightly, and a soft moan left your lips.

Steve leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek. "Remember, little lark. Pleasure or pain - the choice is yours."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Bucky drew a finger over your sapphire pendant, and Steve kissed you, licking into your mouth to taste his tang on your tongue. He didn’t relent until you were gasping for air. Then Bucky kissed your cheek, and Steve pushed your head gently down onto Bucky’s shoulder once more.

And the two resumed their business and idle chatter, while you floated away, exhausted, and your body gave way to peace while you could claim it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[icebearpopsicle]

⁠✧Baby Steps⁠✧

(Shouta Aizawa X G.N. Reader)

Warnings: Aizawa is 38 here, age gap (like it's 13 years), smut part is shitty and kinda rushed, excessive use of the word "as" because i literally cannot write, gentle dom, aizawa is kinda overbearing, dub con(?) jus towards the end though,

Word count: 2.3k+ words

Author's note: this is shitty but i hope you enjoy it ♡ ♡/ aizawa is out of character/ smut is bad cuz i am even worse at that sorry ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ/

You stretched your back, hands clasped behind your head, hearing the faint sound of your spine cracking against the support of your chair. It has been hours since you started scrolling, looking for a job, your palm sweaty from holding the mouse. A click here, a click there, and a scroll downwards, then upwards again. You had recently moved here after graduation, and while you were managing well initially, the high cost of your apartment and day-to-day expenses had become too much to sustain without a source of income.

You scrolled further down when the computer screen displayed some words that caught your interest:

Name: Shouta Aizawa

Age: 38

Requirement(s): Babysitter

Requirement Information: 2 kids

Salary: To be negotiated later on

Contact details: aizawashouta@gmail.com / XXXXX-XXXXX

Posted 1 hour ago

Okay, yeah, that was pretty brief, but the timing gave you hope that you might just get the job, so you clicked on his phone number and started typing away on your keyboard.

"Hello, I saw your post about wanting a babysitter and I was wondering if the spot was still free?"

You hit the send button and got up from your seat for the first time in hours for a small break. After about 20 minutes, you checked for a response and opened the chat again.

"Yes, it is. If you're interested, please come tomorrow at 8 am if you're available," followed by a link to his location.

A smile claimed your lips at the excitement of finally landing a job after so many tries.

When you saw his age, you definitely didn't expect him to be this... hot? Which father of two kids is this hot?

"Good morning. I believe you contacted me yesterday evening, yeah?" His smooth, deep voice is like music to your ears as you look at the sleep-deprived man towering over you. Rough stubble covers his face, his hair cascading to his shoulders, as his broad shoulders lean against the door frame.

"Oh... ah... yes, good morning. It was indeed me who contacted you... sir," you reply as he gestures for you to enter his house. You then take notice of his lavish yet cozy home, with toys scattered in the hallway. You both enter the kitchen, and he jerks his head toward a seat at the table with a low hum.

"Would you like to drink anything?" he asks, picking up his mug from the table as you shake your head.

"I am gonna be asking you a few questions and I need you to be honest with your answers." he commands, taking a seat opposite you. His black shirt puling slightly upwards, revealing his wrists as you give a simple nod.

"Firstly... What is your age?" He asks taking a sip from his mug.

"I am 25 years old.. sir.." You reply confidently however there is a frown on his face at your response. Was he... Upset? Afraid to loose this opportunity you quickly try and talk about your past experiences with kids as he interrupts you.

"No, it's not that I just hope you aren't lying about your age"

"Why... Would I?" You ask with a frown enveloping your face.

"I wouldn't believe you to be 18 with a face like that" He replies his tone rather blunt.

Ouch. His straightforwardness stinging lightly.

"Moving forward... do you party, drink or any of those stuff?"

"No, sir."

"Hmmm ... Fine, I suppose you can start working from today"

You give him a small smile as you mutter a small 'thank you'.

"Got any questions?"

"Actually yes! I was wondering where the kids might be so that I could ensure they're comfortable with me being around!!"

He gives a slight nod before replying his voice surprisingly gentle and low when talking about them "Yeah, they're sleeping right now. My eldest son; he wakes up at 9 and my daughter wakes up at 10:30." He gestures to a picture on the mantle showing a purple haired boy and grey haired girl laughing and playing together as you hear the faint sound of him taking a sip from his mug.

"They are so adorable." You gush smiling at their innocent faces. "And could I get some more information on what their personalities are like?"

"Hm.." he hums as he finishes the drink on his mug and sets it down on the table.

"Well my son is 9 years old, Shinsou that's his name, he doesn't warm up easily to people but he is quiet and usually plays with Eri or alone. Eri is my daughter she is 5 and quite literally the opposite of her brother, ahem.. she is talkative and quite sensitive. None of them are picky about their food, they eat anything that they're given and nor do they have any allergies.. and yeah that's about it.." He says rubbing his hands together and you can hear how rough and dry they are.

It had been two weeks since you started working in his house and only then you realised how often Shouta stayed away from home, any free time he got he would spend it with his children, taking them out for activities, cooking for them, playing with them, seeing how close he was with his son and daughter often left you with a smile on your lips at the close bond of the family. True to Shouta's word you could really see the difference in the way Shinsou would behave around you and around his father or sister and somewhere deep down you were a bit upset but you knew that all of this takes time and as long he was comfortable enough to have you around you were fine. But Eri on the other hand was absolutely adorable, she adored you and you adored her, say if you were watching Shinsou and Eri play it was Eri who would call you over and ask you to play with them. Aizawa on the other hand was always kind and formal with you sometimes even bringing takeaway for you, but whenever he was over you couldn't help but just look at his biceps the way they would bulge out from his shirt when he folded his arms, the way his hands would be disturbed with veins when his grip would tighten even in the slightest, and maybe.... Just maybe, you tried to catch his attention by wearing really short shorts or a tshirt that hug your body just at the right places.

But alas it was only you who kept drooling over him....

or that's what you thought...

You were seemingly unaware the amount of self control Aizawa had to practice just not to fuck you dumb on his cock.

It had been three months since you started working for him and you still found your gaze lingering on him for too long, initially it was at his face, then down to his broad shoulders, and then his chest, then it was further down to his hands and finally it was on his......

"Are you sad cuz papa isn't home today?" You hear the innocent voice of Shinsou behind you having counted your sighs since you woke up, which was according to him, around 32.

"No, no of course not Shinsou.. I am totally fine, just a bit tired" You lied, obviously you would. Why would you admit to finding Shinsou's father hot. Other than the fact that you want him to ruin you till you can't form any thoughts. And you definitely were sad that Aizawa was working till 9 pm that too on a Sunday.

Shinsou mumbles an "Okay..." walking away to colour his book that he had been previously doing before being worried about you. A few minutes after he had approached you, your face suddenly lit up as you realised that Shinsou was worried about you, you rushed up to him from the kitchen counter to the living room abruptly sitting down in front of him

"Are you worried about me Shinsou?" You ask excitedly your smile radiant. Shinsou earlier looking up at you looks away from embarrassment not replying, his ears turni red and you just couldn't help the aww that left your lips.

"Awww you're so cute!!" You squeal and your hand automatically goes to ruffle his hair and he doesn't pull away not this time and you realise that he has gotten comfortable with you, at that moment the door clicks open as Aizawa enters the house and peeks into the living room to see what the commotion was about.

"Papa!!!!" Eri squeals noticing her dad in the hallway as she runs up to him and Aizawa picks her up his voice gentle and soothing "Hey my love" He says kissing her on the cheek as she giggles from his stubble pricking her soft skin.

"Sup kiddo" Aizawa comes near you and Shinsou with Eri in his arms.

"Hello.." Shinsou greets him quietly as Aizawa bends down to ruffle his hair.

"All good?" Aizawa asks him and Shinsou nods as he goes back to colouring his book, Aizawa finally looks at you making your heart almost leap out as he gave you a small smirk "You seem happy, what's up?" He asks with a small groan as he puts Eri on the floor and she runs off playing "Shinsou let me ruffle his hair and he was worried about me!!" You reply excitedly your wide smile bringing a low chuckle from him.

"Oh yeah? What exactly were you worried about Shin?" Aizawa questions sitting down to look at what his son is colouring.

"(Name)-san was sad that you were working this late" Shinsou replies nonchalantly and you swear your eyes hadnt widened this much in your life, you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and Aizawa's eyebrows raise as he gives you a quick side glance before looking at Shinsou, he is about to say something when you interject denying strongly. "Shinsou!! I told you I was tired!! Thats not the case!!"

"Or, tired they say" He adds briefly, Aizawa doesn't even get the chance to say anything as you immediately get up picking up Eri and Shinsou taking them to their individual rooms ignoring any protests of Shinsou claiming how he was a big boy and he could stay up late, you argue with Shinsou for atleast half an hour before he finally agrees to sleep even though he was angry at you.

You head downstairs sighing and praying that Aizawa didn't pay much heed to whatever Shinsou said before as you head towards the living room to pick up the scattered toys and crayons only to be met with the sight of Aizawa sitting on the couch and while normally he isn't intimidating the way he sat with eyes closed, arms folded his right leg over his left reminded you of your father and his strict nature slightly intimidating you, quietly you pick up the toys glad that he fell asleep; as you picked the last of the toys you heard Aizawa's voice boom through making you freeze in your tracks "Still upset that I had work today?" You dont reply for a long time not trusting yourself to speak but when you do your voice is slightly shaky "No... No not at all.. why would I be.. you know Shinsou he just says whatever he wants..."

"Oh yeah? Does he?"

"........ okay well not ... Not exactly....."

You mumbel turning around to face Aizawa only to find him standing infront of you as looking down at your compared to his smaller form.

"Well then, answer my question."

You look away nervously chewing on your bottom lip, coating them pink with saliva, Aizawa tries to resist the urge to kiss you but fails as he grabs your face roughly pulling it closer to his, smashing his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and you can sense the sexual tension between you melting away.

You both pull free from the kiss, the room filled with pants, yours being much louder than his, taking in huge gulps of air.

You feel Aizawas arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer towards him.

"My room or the couch?" He whispers in your right ear his voice sending shivers along your spine.

It had been an hour since Aizawa had been prepping you after finding out you were a virgin, where once it burned to even have a single finger of his inside you, now you could easily 4 of his fingers at once.

Yet, tears spilled from your eyes when Aizawa pushes his dick (just the tip) inside you as Aizawa kisses away you tears with soft coo's of 'just a bit more' 'you're doing so good baby' 'it's just a few more minutes yeah, we will start to feel good real soon' rubbing soothing circles in your back as you sink your face into his shoulder blades, his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils; finally after what felt like an eternity your hole sits down on his his dick as he gradually thrusts into you making you whimper and groan.

"So fucking good for me.. shit... Ugh... Fuck so tight, so fucking compliant.... Shit baby .. you feel so good"

You hear him praise you but you're barely able to register even a single word due to your muddled state of mind, your whines get louder, his thrusts getting more faster and rapid now. He hits a particularly sweet spot as you rise your head to scream at the pleasure coursing through your body "That's the spot is it." Aizawa grunts angling his hips to hit that spot, chortling at your desperate and meek attempt to push him away.

"Cum... Sh...shit... Gonna cum... Fuck..."

"Yeah? Gonna come for me? Gonna come from this cock fucking you stupid?"

You nod your head frantically chanting a mantra of 'so good's', orgasm coursing through your body, your body trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm as you lay limp against his chest.

After what feels like a few minutes you feel Aizawa thrust into you making you whine from the overstimulation

"Cant... No... No please... Hurts..."

You try to push him away only for him grab your wrists with his hand behind your back as he increases the pace of his thrusts

"I am yet to come baby, just a few more rounds 'kay?"

[talaok]

A new lesson

Pairing: step-dad!Joel miller x step-daughter!reader

Summary: Your step-dad generously offers to give you another lesson. (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| oral sex ( m receiving), face-fucking, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don’t like what you see.

a/n: @thesummerpetrichor I believe we had an agreement…

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

He'd been obsessively looking at those photos he'd taken of you yesterday every time he could.

It didn't matter if he was at work, or if his wife was right next to him, he needed to take a look at that pretty pussy of yours or he felt like he was gonna go crazy.

He'd always known that once he got a taste of it, it would never be enough, and yesterday just proved him right.

He was so lost in the picture on his screen that your mom's voice startled him.

"what have you been doing on there for 20 minutes?"

Shit

"nothing" he shrugged, quickly switching apps "Just work stuff"

"you sure?" she raised a brow, smiling "There's not another woman I should be worried about?" she joked

Only your daughter

"never" he forced a grin, leaning closer to her on the couch to kiss her.

"good" she nodded, patting his thigh "I'll go shower more serenely then"

He watched as she stood from the couch, and waited until he heard the water running before he quickly made his way to the only place he'd been wanting to go since he came home: your room.

His dick was already hard, so what better time for another lesson?

"Oh, hi daddy" you smiled at him as he closed the door behind him, noticing how he locked it.

You were sitting on your pink bed, resting your back against the headboard while you read a book. A big t-shirt draped over your body and some soft pajama shorts underneath it.

"hi sweetheart" he smirked

"do you need something?"

"no baby, but it's time for another lesson"

He watched you frown in confusion

"but mom's home... and you said you couldn't help me when mom was home"

"I know what I said" he nodded annoyed at your sudden need to ask questions "but I was feeling generous and I wanted to help you now." he explained "If you don't want my help anymore you can just say s-"

And just as he'd predicted, you interrupted him before he could even finish that sentence.

"No, of course I want your help daddy"

"good" he nodded "then come here"

You obliged immediately, setting your book to the side on the bed and standing up to walk over to him.

"take off your shirt" he said once you were right before him.

You did as told, observing his eyes fall to your naked tits, just for his hands to reach them, feeling them as his thumbs played with your perked nipples.

"you've got pretty tits sweetheart"

"t-thank you" you blushed, your eyes falling to where he was touching you.

"Today is gonna be different from last time" he explained softly 

"ok" you murmured

Oh how he loved how small your voice got every time

"get on your knees"

Once again, you obeyed.

He looked even bigger from down there, and you felt even smaller.

"now undo my belt and lower my pants"

You swallowed nervously, looking up at him

"go on" he urged

So you did. You took care of his belt, then of his zipper, and then as he said, you lowered his jeans, and they fell, pooling at his feet.

What was now in front of you, was the perfectly clear shape of his dick, hidden only by a pair of thin black boxers.

"take them off"

your fingers seeped through the waistband, and slowly, you took them off for him.

You still hadn't gotten used to it. He was just so big,

how did all of that even fit inside of me?

no wonder I'm sore.

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him with those innocent eyes of yours.

"spit on your hand, and then just like last time, wrap it around my cock"

You hesitated a moment, before bringing your hand to your lips and summoning some spit from your dry mouth.

You were so nervous your hand was almost shaking as it wrapped around him, and it might have had something to do with his expecting eyes looking down on you.

Your thumb didn't even reach the rest of your fingers, that's how fucking thick he was.

"up and down, like last time" he instructed, clearly getting impatient.

"l-like this?" you asked, gently stroking him.

"just like that baby" he breathed, his hips pushing forward a bit "Now use your mouth"

You tried to swallow some of the sand in your mouth, but all you could think of was how fucking huge he was and how he was never ever gonna fit, and how he was gonna be disappointed of you and-

"We don't have all day sweetie" he murmured 

"I-I'm sorry daddy, it's just that... I- I don't know if it's gonna fit"

He stifled a smile as he answered

"we're gonna make it fit sugar, don't you worry your pretty little head about it" he cooed, seeing some of the concern melt from your eyes "Now be good and suck my cock"

You nodded obediently, and just as he'd taught you last time, you widened your mouth and took him in, or better, you took his tip in.

"you can do better than that" he tilted his head, "go deeper"

So you did, you forced him more and more into your mouth until it was halfway in.

Your hands on his thighs balled into fists, and your face started to redden.

"breathe through your nose" he instructed, watching you do it "and hollow your cheeks for me, baby"

You did as told, and a loud breath fled his mouth.

"good girl" he whispered, making that weird feeling in your belly rise all over again.

"now- just like you did with your hand, go up and down"

Your mouth felt already incredibly full, but somehow, as you started bobbing your head, more and more of him started fitting inside of it.

"that's it" he groaned, his right hand moving some hair out of your face and fisting them in a makeshift bun at the back of your head.

You internally smiled at that, and you got so focused on trying to do even better that your eyes fell down to his groin.

"No look at me" he corrected you, using his leverage on your head to pull it back so your eyes were on his again "You look at me when you're sucking my cock"

You blinked in surprise, but before you could say anything he'd told you to "go on" and so of course, you did.

Up and down 

up and down

always fitting a tad more

"fuck" he murmured, trying to remind himself that he couldn't show you just how good you were making him feel, but fuck but that was a whole lot

Either he was an amazing teacher, or you were a natural. 

"A-am I doing good?" you asked, leaning away, while you tried to catch your breath.

"yeah baby" he breathed, seeing that need for reassurance in your iris

"really?" your eyes lighted up, as a huge smile spread on your lips

"yeah" he cut it short "but sweetie... less talking and more sucking"

"o-oh, right" You let out a soft laugh, slowly taking him back in, but before you could get back to your old rhythm, his hand at the back of your head, had pushed his cock all the way down your throat, making you gag and cough like a maniac.

Your eyes watered, and tears started flowing from your eyes as you looked up at him, confused and a little scared

But all you could see in his eyes was fun.

You looked so pretty choking on his cock...

"it's ok" he murmured, gripping your hair to guide your head up and down like he wanted, "just-" he forced you to gag on him again.

You looked up at him pleadingly as your hands tried to reach where he was holding your hair to try and get him to let go of you without succeding.

"fuck, that's good" he groaned, finally letting you go

You broke into a coughing fit, trying to get your lungs to work normally again, but he didn't even budge, actually, he was sadistically enjoying it.

"wh-why did you do that daddy?" you whimpered, sniffling

"oh baby" he murmured, "If you want Chad to make love to you you're gonna have to learn how to do that" he explained, stroking your wet cheek " Plus, I did it to prepare you for what we're gonna do next"

Your eyes widened slightly

"w-what are we gonna do?"

A grin pulled at his lips

"Now, darlin'," he spoke, "I'm gonna fuck that pretty throat of yours"

"Wha- I"

"shh" he shushed you, placing his thumb on your lips "it's ok" he calmed you down "Relax baby, I'm here, I'm only trying to help you"

"I know but-"

"But what?" he asked, frowning as he looked down at you.

"nothing" you immediately took it back.

"that's right" he nodded "Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out f'me"

And the moment you did... the moment you did, he realized he wasn't gonna last long

"You gotta stay like that ok, you don't wanna hurt daddy, do you?"

"uh-uh" you shook your head, your mouth still open 

"such a good girl" he smiled, before gently, (a gentleness that was gonna be forgotten in seconds) he placed a hand on the back of your head, and trusted his hips forward, making you gag softly.

"shit" he breathed, and then, as if he got possessed, he started going faster, and then faster, and then faster again until rivers were flowing from your eyes and the room filled with the filthy noise of your abused thoat.

"f-fuck" he groaned, forcing your head all the way down so that your nose was almost touching his crotch "Look at you... so fucking pretty like this"

You only had the time to remind yourself to breathe through your nose, and then he was already starting to push in and out of your mouth just like he'd done last time but down there.

You enjoyed seeing him breathe heavily and groan in pleasure because of you, so much so that your panties were drenched... but god it was hard to do as he asked.

"choking on my cock like a good little girl" he hissed, his hold on your head only tightening and his thrusts only fastening "Being so good f'me" he groaned "Always so good"

Your jaw was starting to hurt too much, and you just needed a little break, but the moment you tried to speak he stopped you.

"not now" he spoke, his voice hoarse and filled with pleasure "I'm about to cum baby" he explained, "you know what that means?"

You shook your head, eyes wider than ever.

"it means I'm gonna cum in your mouth" he breathed "and you're gonna swallow every single drop of what I give you," 

His chest was heaving, and you didn't think you'd ever seen him that blissed out

"but not until I say so, ok?"

"mh-mh" you hummed around his cock

"attagirl" he bit down his lower lips, trying to keep his grunts and groans down as much as he could "such a good, fucking, girl- fuck"

And looking down at you, ruined completely for him, he couldn't help but let go, filling your mouth up, until you were choking on the liquid and his cock combined.

He pulled out, his dick softening and his breathing calming down.

"show me" he ordered,

You widened your mouth even more and showed off its contents to him 

His hand grubbed your chin, tilting your head up more to him, as his fingers kept your mouth open.

His eyes were fully dark with lust as he grinned, stroking your bottom lip.

"Now swallow"

Your eyes never left his as you ingested his salty spent, and the moment you did, his dick threatened to harden again.

Fuck, he should have taken a picture

"good girl, now c'mere" he gestured, inviting you to stand up, which you gladly agreed to

Your knees were killing you.

He tucked himself back into his boxers and put on his pants again, while you stumbled to your feet.

"H-how did I do?" you asked, as he busied his thumb by caressing your pretty lips.

They were all puffy, just like his eyes, and the pleasure he got knowing that he was the reason for it, was unimaginable.

"you did good" he said, making you smile "But not that good" he cooed, lying through his teeth. he honestly didn't think he'd ever come that hard from just a blowjob, " If you want Chad to want to do this, you're gonna have to get better at it"

"o-oh"

"yeah" he winced, faux empathy tracing his tone "you really need some practice" he explained "so I think it's best if we do this once a day at least"

Your eyes widened in surprise

"Once a day?"

"at least" 

"y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course baby" he smiled, before leaving a quick kiss on your lips "what kind of step dad would i be if i didn't help you?"

And at that, you couldn't help but hug him, intertwining your hands behind his neck.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured to your ear, kissing you neck, and forcing a whimper out of your mouth.

"M-my throat's a little sore"

He smirked, softly chuckling "That's normal sweetie, but what I meant was..." he explained, his right hand traveling lower on your body until he was cupping your clothed pussy "how are you feeling here?"

You moaned softly "I-I feel tingly, like last time"

"mhh, that's good" he hummed, inhaling your scent "that's real good sugar, but we don't have time for me to take care of you, so here's what we're gonna do" he said, leaning away, until you were eye to eye "I want you to take one of your pillows and hump it for me"

"h-hump it?"

"yeah sweetheart, hump it until come"

"I-I-"

"it's ok" he stroked your cheek "It's just me"

"Y-you right" You nodded

"that's my girl" he kissed you "and while you hump it real good, I want you to film yourself, and then send it to me ok?"

"why?" you frowned, a little bit confused

Again with the questions

"Because I need to know if you did it right"

Your mouth parted at that, as the realization hit you

He was just too nice

"of course" you smiled "thank you so much daddy"

[drgnflyteabox]

Malewife Gaz comes back from deployment desperate for his mean, office siren gf <3

MDNI / dub con-ish / public sex / overstim / anal play / grinding / Kyle is kinda gross lol I luv him / he eats it from the back :D / they're both switches / squirting

Reader works in an office, but it's not clear what she does. She does have her own private office though ;) you go girl!

You're ignoring him.

Your phone isn't turned off, it's not even on silent, but you haven't flipped it right side up despite the near constant buzzing. Kyle has been texting, calling, but you're cross at the moment and don't feel like having it out with him on a work day.

You should turn your phone off. It's distracting, and a little inappropriate to have it making so much noise even through the walls cushioning your personal office.

The thing is, it's a little gratifying that he's desperately trying to reach you. Part of it is the satisfaction that he's a little anxious and wants to make it up, and part of it is wanting him to be extra sorry when you gets home.

Kyle had been able to call you all through the past month despite being on deployment. At least twice a week, you'd be laid up in bed or tucked away on lunch in your office telling him about your day. A rare treat for someone of his vocation, and something you appreciated greatly. The expectation you always set for yourself was zero contact - something to keep you from being hurt or placing more stress on him. Truly, your workaholic tendencies made you perfect for somebody that spent so much time deployed. When he came back, he made you take a break. There was a balance.

Typically you'd get a window of time for when he'd be back home. Your favourite thing to do was to cook a British classic for the occasion, usually bangers and mash - his favourite. You always had his preferred beer too, a brand you noticed he copied from Price. So cute. Yesterday morning he'd sent you a message that he'd be home for 9pm, a little late for dinner but the boys wanted to catch up at their favourite pub before they separated.

Only last night you'd sat at the table waiting for two full hours by yourself before giving up. His meal was packed in the fridge while you'd eaten yours by yourself on the couch with a glass of wine, texts going unanswered.

The worst part wasn't that he hadn't shown up. Sometimes that happened, when missions ran long or he'd gotten too into his cups with his team. It was annoying, but your tradition was to spend the day together when he got back, and you didn't mind having breakfast with him instead. You just didn't appreciate that he didn't even call or text about it, and that in the morning you found him sprawled on the couch with just his boxers and a mess of clothing tossed on the ground from the door to the living room couch. Socks, pants, his tank top.

So, petty as you are, you go to work and forego the tradition. Ignoring him. You dressed nice, too, black stockings and as tarty as you could without getting a call from HR. He hadn't seen you leave, but you wanted to get home and remind him what he was missing.

Your office phone rang once, twice, "hello?" The secretary at the front of the building was a nice enough lady, but she rarely called you directly. "Your lunch is here - the deliveryman is just waiting."

"Deliveryman?" You say skeptically. You hadn't ordered lunch. You'd brought Kyle's leftovers.

"Yep. Should I send him up?" Though you probably know who it is, you tell her you'll be down in the lobby instead. You'd prefer to be safe than sorry, in case it isn't Kyle.

It is.

He looks like a kicked puppy, holding some kind of takeout bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. He knows you love Los Vaqueros, the little coffeeshop next door. It's probably a macadamia nut latte, your favourite.

"Babe," he starts, sounding a little rough. Probably battling a hangover. He's wearing your favourite shirt, a tight black compression shirt that shows off his tits. Grey running sweats. Oh, he's good. "Is your phone dead?"

"I've got a pretty busy day today, Kyle," you're a little snotty about it. Your hip is cocked to the side. You want him to work a little. "I was in the middle of a meeting."

"You can't be that mad at me. I brought you macadamia and a caesar wrap. Come on, baby." He shifts the bag into the same hand as the coffee, using the other to show you his palm in apology.

You peer at him a little warily. It's times like this you wish he wasn't so tall, so that you could look at him all judgemental secretary like. You settle for arching a brow and squinting. "Go away now, I'll see you at home. I better not see any dirty socks on my floor, either."

"I cleaned them this morning, I swear."

"Good. Now scram, and give me that coffee." You reach for the coffee, but he intercept and grabs your elbow. Pulling you closer. "What- kyle--" his hands slides up to your upper back, making you shiver. When you don't pull away, he grins like a schoolboy and starts steering you down the hall. "I have work -!"

"I know, baby, but I really wanna make it up to you. Let me make it up to you." He's speaking quietly as to not alert the secretary a few feet away. He's leading you to the bathroom.

"No! Kyle, I'm at work. Goddammit, I have things to do-"

"No you don't." When you've turned the corner and are out of sight, he slides his hand from your back to your ass, squeezing hard, making you squeak. "And I need you. I woke up so hard. I need your pussy." He's close to whining, tucking his face close to your ear, smelling your hair.

Your voice goes high pitched, flustered, not expecting him to try and cajole you into fucking in a public bathroom. At your workplace no less. "We can't!"

He used to do this when you first started dating; get needy, corner you in some barely secluded place and get you both off one way or another. Quick and dirty. He swore he never fucked anyone else while deployed, and if it wasn't the trust you had in him it was how desperate he seemed to get when he got back that assured you of his faithfulness. Sometimes it was your favourite, just how whiney and flustered he would get. As a treat, if he'd been very good during dinner, you'd wake him up by sucking him off the morning he got back. Surely he had missed that this morning, what with how fast he'd led you to the employee bathroom. Good.

He locks the door behind you, and you let him kiss you a little. You don't see him put your food down, but he must because both his hands squeeze your waist. You rub your thighs together to soothe the pulsing arousal building in your belly.

You hand goes to his chest, pushing him. He's so strong, it takes you slapping his chest and shoulders to move back, panting. "We can't, I'm serious. Do you want me to get fired?"

He licks his lips, not even looking you in the eye. "You won't get fired, baby. Just be quiet. Let me take care of you-" you interrupt him by grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks hard, making his lips pucker up.

"Can you not think with your cock? Couldn't you have dropped lunch off and waited for me back home like a good boy?"

He slides his big hands down your waist to your hips, tilting his hard cock so its pressed against you. Despite you holding him, he walks you both forward until your back hits the wall and he can grind against you hard. "Kyle- I'm not kidding," you say sternly, but don't move away. His cock rubs deliciously against your mons, not quite where you want it, but a good enough tease that your breath shudders out in a moan.

"Please, please, let me," he begs, grinding. Pressing his body right up to yours. You acquiesce a little, moving your hand from his face to down his pants and into his boxers. "Hrmmn-nn fuck, fuck," he whines. Bypassing his dick, you feel him start to hump desperately, like a dog. He shudders hard and you're squashed against the wall as you palm his balls, playing with them a little. You feel wetness drip down your wrist.

"Did you just come?" Honestly, you're delighted, but you make sure your tone is disappointed. Mean. Your pussy squeezes, wets your panties a little more. "Bad boy. I thought you were going to make it up to me?"

"Oh fuck, thank you baby. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you still. Just give me a second."

"No way. Get to work." It's easy to bully him a little when he's so fresh from his orgasm. You push him onto his knees and lift a heel to rest it on that big, muscular thigh.

Your tits feel squashed in your bra as you breathe hard, looking down at him. He pushes his forehead against your stomach, pushing your skirt up while murmuring something into the fabric. You palm yourself, pinch your own nipples through the fabric. Feeling empowered, your hand goes to his hair and you grind your panty covered pussy right on his nose.

"Go on."

He licks you through the fabric, long laps of his tongue. Sucks on where your clit is, wetting the fabric. Kyle grips your thighs and pulls them wider apart, making you teeter dangerously on one heel, the other digging into his leg. He mouths at your panties and bites gently at you while your scratch his scalp and neck.

He moans, and finally pushes your underwear down. You clench as your wetness is exposed to the air, cooling you. Your clit stands up, peeking out of your hood. He gives it a little lick, directly on the underside where you're most sensitive. It makes you jump, not expecting it. He doesn't let you move away, instead wrapping his lips around you and sucking, hard.

"Oh Jesus--" your knees buckle a little, "Kyle, fuck," he pulls back and turns you around forcefully, making you arch. His hand finds your ankle and lifts your leg up and out, tongue finding your cunt once again. He eats you out like he's making out with you, like a sloppy kiss. His other hand squeezes where your ass and thigh meet, spreading you open.

"I missed you so much," he says. "I missed this pretty little cunt. Oh, jesus, I'm hard again." Of course he is - his refractory period has always been quick. This is a new record, though. "Can I fuck you, baby?"

You have to really force your words out, with how he spreads your asscheeks and licks your other hole. "Nn- no. You haven't - haven't earned it yet."

Kyle doesn't say anything to that, just curls his tongue in your ass and let's your ankle go to pinch your clit between two fingers, twisting it. You shout, then go still, remembering where you are. "Kyle --!" It sneaks up on you, how fast your orgasm comes. From your toes to your nipples, electricity shoots through you and tightens your skin. You tremble violently, soaking his fingers and his face. He stands up while you go through the aftershocks, hands stroking your belly and holding you from behind, crowding you and making you feel safe.

Kyle kisses your nape, sucks your earlobe a little. Waits like a gentleman. You lean back against him and squeeze his fingers.

"I'm gonna fuck you now." He's not asking anymore, and you're boneless, so you just spread your legs and let him push his cock into you slowly, enjoying the stretch. It makes you rise onto your tiptoes, letting him take your weight. He rocks into you slowly at first, hands roaming from your stomach to your tits to your throat. Pinching and squeezing, having earned your submission.

"I missed you too," you admit finally, breathily. "I love you, big boy."

Kyle hums, sucking a mark into your neck, picking up his pace. "I love you too." He nibbles on you a little. His thumb finds your asshole again, pushing in, making you whine high and thin. "You gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock? I've been waiting for this, you know. Your pussy feels like home."

Your cunt drips on him, making wet little sounds while he fucks you hard against the wall. You're still sensitive from coming earlier, so you squirm on his cock, squeezing around him. "Come inside me, please," you beg. You need to feel it. He uses his free hand to push your face into the wall, bucking into you once, twice, then holding himself taut as a bowstring. His hips grind minutely against your ass while he comes, flooding your pussy.

Kyle doesn't let you go, just pulls his cock and thumb out quickly, taking advantage of your stupor to cup your pussy and roughly squeeze your clit. You yelp, jumping, but keep your legs spread. Your peak is building again, and he knows it. Two of his big fingers find your stretched hole and push in, curling and rubbing viciously until the pressure builds and builds and your pussy contracts, pleasure slicing through your abdomen painfully. You cover your mouth with your hands just barely in time to shout, knees buckling with your orgasm.

If not for Kyle holding you up, you'd have fallen down to the floor. You shake, feeling cored. He nuzzles you sweetly, licking your ear. His hand pets your pussy gently until you push him away, way too sensitive.

"Can I take you home, babygirl?"

"Yes please," your voice is a croak.

Kyle is a little inconsiderate in this but I hope it didn't read as angst and more playfulness between established partners <3<3 I feel like Kyle is a very noble character and he puts a lot of pressure on himself. Always worrying about what the right thing is. I figure with reader he can let go a little :') reader is a little miffed but she's soft for her man <3

Also I wrote this on my phone between shifts during a 13 hour day so please forgive any typos or grammar mistakes

[tatoda]

Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader

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masterlist

part 2

summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do

pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff <3

wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)

first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(

It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.

The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.

Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.

After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.

“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection

“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.

“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”

“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off

“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you

“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one

You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.

The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.

“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants

“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again

“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke

“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you

“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar

“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future

“how long have you been playing?”

“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods

“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”

“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him

“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you

“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross

“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him

“junior, what about you?”

“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable

“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements

“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed

“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip

“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”

[trendywaifus]

↳ not in love, baby it’s just lust!

always look both ways and behind you when you walk at night.

↳ featuring, michael myers! jingliu

—cw, sub! fem! reader, jingliu has a cock, face fucking, murder mentioned, gagging, cursing, size–kink, death of a character, dub-con

the sounds of your heavy breathing and wheezing echoes through the narrow walls of the horribly lit alleyway. your limbs burned with exhaustion and you were on the verge of passing out from nonstop running. the hot tears you desperately tried to wipe away, continuously runs down your flushed cheeks. you meet face to face with a dead end, your blood runs cold. “ o-oh my fucking god!” you slammed your palm against the cold brick wall in frustration. “ i just did a dumb white girl move, why did i even turn into this alleyway?! “

you whipped around, hoping to scramble out of the narrow space before your pursuer comes. you halted after a few steps in upon seeing the tall shadow of a silhouette steadily approaching towards your only escape route out. “ o-of course the motherfucker shows up. .! “ you muttered harshly, watching in horror as the looming figure stands tall at the entrance of the alleyway. your eyes trails down to what looks like to be a knife in their hand. “ oh fuck, i’m going to die because i wanted to buy a bag of shitty candy from the shitty corner store at night. .”

they began to approach, taking slow, calculated steps towards you. the knife twirls in their hand almost playfully as you backed up, frantically looking around for a weapon to use. “ last w-words of advice, if you’re interested in a woman, h-how about you not follow them and try to kill them, mister i. .—miss?” you were at a loss of words as her appearance became more visible under the shitty flickering lights. she had on a familiar worn–out fox mask, rivers of white hair flowed down her shoulders from underneath it. she wore a grey coverall jumpsuit that shaped her fit body.

“ th-this somehow got worse—you were the one who was following me? i seriously just heard about you on the news last night. god, i’m so fucked! “ you sobbed, forcing yourself up against the wall. a man by the name of yingxing was brutally murdered in his own home yesterday in broad daylight. it’s so happen that a witness caught a few glimpses of the masked killer somewhere outside the home after the murder and was able to give the police a distinctive description of her. why did you have to be the one to confirm it’s accurate in the worst way possible?

swallowed by her presence as she now towers over your figure, her dull red eyes peers down at you through the slits of the mask, amused by your pathetic mental breakdown. she raises her knife up and you instinctively closed your eyes shut, waiting for the sharp pain to come. instead, a cool metal gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away stray tears. you flinched, opening your eyes to stare at the masked woman with confusion.

“ d-did you just. . .? “ she tilts her head, letting out a low chuckle at your cute reaction. your brows furrowed, she’s either fucking with you or—she actually took your advice? “ maybe i won’t die tonight if i play my cards right. .” you whispered. taking a deep breath, you mustered up a tight-lipped smile. “ i-i heard a lot about you, including your name. jing. .liu, correct? “ she stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding.

“ you have such a beautiful name and you seem like a. .reasonable woman, jingliu. i actually want to go home since it’s like late at night and i think my mother is worried about me. you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so i can go, right? you’re kind of blocking the way—n-not to be rude. .”

jingliu says nothing, nor did she move aside to allow you to pass. instead, she takes a step forward, practically sandwiching you between her and the wall. you yelped, placing your palms against her stomach. it’s safe to assume that she did not want you to leave nor was she interested in killing you. her calloused hand cups your cheek, caressing the skin tenderly. you laughed nervously, “ i-i guess you already taken a liking to me. fucking perfect. “

your breath hitches as she leans down to your face, the rough texture of the mask grazes your cheek. you shifted uncomfortably against her, earning a soft groan. “ s-sorry? why did you make that—oh.” a soft bulge rubs against your thigh, causing you to stiffen up. jingliu swiftly tosses the knife to the side, the metal object hits the asphalt with a loud clang. her hands lands on your hips, forcing them to grind against hers. “ e-easy, easy, jingliu! “ you gasped, holding back a soft moan. fuck, a small adjustment easily triggered her?

she grunts, easing her grip on your hips but her movements doesn’t falter. “ sh-shit. . “ arousal shamelessly stirs in your belly, slowly dragging you into a mess of dirty thoughts about the feral woman. she hastily pulls up her mask, just enough to free the lower half of her face and smashed her lips against yours. the searing kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. she easily overpowered you, not caring about bruising your lips. her hands journeys up your sides, wishing to explore every nook and cranny of your body.

her tongue hungrily explores your warm cavern, swallowing your whimpers. lust consumes you whole, trapping you in its hold and starts plucking away at any rational thought you had about the reality of the current situation. without hesitation, your hand slides down her stomach and squeezed at the hardened bulge. a deep growl emits from jingliu’s throat, she rolls her hips against your palm. “ god, it went from wanting to go home to wanting to fuck a suspected serial killer. ” you breathed, unzipping the jumpsuit from under the waistband, freeing her cock from its restraints.

jingliu’s lips parts as she laughs huskily at the irony. she firmly sets her hand on your shoulder and easily pushes you down to your knees. she hooks her hand on the back of your head, urging you to open your mouth. you complied, allowing her length to slide inside. her breath hitches, taken aback by how good you feel. your jaw tenses as jingliu fully pushes herself in until the tip was kissing the back of your throat.

suddenly, she jerks her hips forward, forcing her cock down your throat causing you to gag. she pulls back before doing it again. each time, it gets deeper and sloppy until she’s repeatedly fucking your tight throat without a care in the world. series of throaty moans and sounds of wet squelching fills the empty night sky. drool runs down your chin as you struggled to accommodate her size and pace. your palms pressed against her thighs to at least cease her speed but she was far more stronger than you.

her cock twitches in your mouth, signaling her inevitable climax. throwing her head back in pure ecstasy, she thrusts into your mouth one final time before loads of cum shoots down your throat. jingliu doesn’t pull out until she’s sure you’ve swallowed everything. once she was satisfied, she releases your head, finally allowing you to cough and breathe properly.

“ fuck. . “ you cursed, massaging your tense jaw. jingliu snatches you up by the forearm and pulls you up without warning. she presses you back into the wall, peppering your face with feverish kisses. her deft hands find themselves unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your ankles for you to kick off. her eyes looks you up and down hungrily, gaze lingering on your bare legs and panties. she places her hands on your sides and easily lifts you up from off the ground. you yelp, circling your legs around her waist.

she smirks at you, sliding your panties to the side to push her drool—covered cock inside your cunt. you both moan in sync as your walls clamp around her. “ l-let me adjust—nngh! “ ignoring your request, jingliu sinks you down to the hilt, completely filling you up. she pants heavily into your ear, retracting her hips back before thrusting right in again. “ s’big, i-i c-can’t! “ you moaned, pushing at her shoulders.

she holds you tighter and moves away to send you a threatening look. her once blank ruby eyes were wild, glistening with unadulterated lust. the masked woman finally uses her tongue to speak, her voice was raspy and low as she growled,

“ don’t. .push . .me. .away . ! “

[odessa-2]

Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

[dontknowwhatyouheard]

Something Special 3

A/N: So I'm trying out new things, and learning new things. LMK what y'all think.

Pairing: Dark Beefy CEO! Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ageless bios will be blocked, non-con, G!P characters, legal age gap, dark!fic, talks of depression, lmk if I missed something Summary: Wanda finally gets what's hers. Word Count: 1864

Chap 1 Chap 2

It was 3 a.m. when Wanda woke next. The warmth surrounding her was the first thing she noticed. She sighed deeply as she moved her hips, and her head whipped to the side when she heard a sigh come from the other side of the bed. As she looked around, she finally realized where she was and cursed herself for not being more cautious. Carefully, she slid out of you as she eyed your face to be sure you were still asleep. She crept across the bed towards your face, tempted to fuck your face again, but she decided against it and kissed your lips as she tucked herself away, still erect, but that was fine if everything went as planned; she’d have you all to herself later that night, and she’d finally be able to care for you the way you deserved. So just like every night before she left through the fire escape with a smile on her face. 

–

It was already time for Wanda to see her Sugar again by the time she arrived home. Before heading to the cafe, she changed into gray sweatpants and a white tee. Something simple, but she knew her Sugar would still appreciate it nonetheless. 

–

Today, when Wanda walked into the cafe, she wasn’t greeted with a smile like the last time. She knew why, but still, it hurt her a little bit. "What happened to that pretty smile of yours, Sugar?" She said with a pout on her face. 

That statement got her a little bit of a smile, but not as full as she was hoping to see.

"I’m sorry, Wanda. I guess I’m just a little upset. What can I get you for today, though?" You sighed, picking at your eyebrows. The stress is practically eating you alive at this point. It was taking everything in not to break down right in front of Wanda.

"Same as yesterday, Sugar. Would it make your day better if I took you out on a date?" She smiled sweetly.

You stared at her, shocked; there was no way this woman was actually serious. You just met her two days ago, and now she wants a date? She hasn’t even had a real conversation with you yet.

"Come on, darling, don't leave me hanging. I'd like to make you feel better if you'd let me," she murmured, pulling your hand away from your brow while locking eyes with you. She realized that picking at your brows must be a nervous tick of yours. She'll correct that soon, but for now, she just needs you to say yes.

"Wanda. I-I can’t ask you to do that for me." You mumbled, trying to let her down lightly, hoping she’d catch on.

"Well, then I’m not asking. I want you to go on a date with me, Sugar. End of discussion." And with that, she sat in a booth to wait for her drink. She sat in silence as you turned around to make her drink. As the tent formed in her sweats, she didn’t bother to hide it; she was proud that her dick always stood at attention for you.

"Wanda!" You gaped openly at the bulge in her pants as she approached you. Was she actually packing to come to a fucking cafe? You snapped out of it when she eventually appeared at the counter. "Here's your drink," you muttered hesitantly, almost spilling it on her.

"Thank you; I'll see you at 8, Sugar," she said, pretending not to notice your stare. She slid a $100 bill across the counter and walked out before you could even react. 

—

It felt like the world was crashing down on you. No matter what you did or how hard you tried to push your predicament to the back of your head, it always came back times ten. It was like fighting through waves of zombies just to end up back where you started. You’ve been in this place plenty of times before, so this is not new. Depression has always been a constant in your life, but sometimes you wonder why you fight those zombies; you wonder why you don’t just let them eat you alive, and you curse yourself for all the times you fight just to end up in the same place months later.

By the time you were able to bring yourself out of your thoughts, you were already halfway out the cafe door. You hadn’t even realized you were just going through the motions and that you had already packed everything up. But you didn’t care; you had a date with Wanda later, and you needed to figure out how you would get through it. 

— 

"Be there in 20 minutes, Sugar 🥰" 

The text came through a long time ago, and you were still obsessing over how you would respond to it. Eventually, you gave up. The thought of even having to reply stressed you out. Instead, you tried focusing on which fragrance you would use and what you thought Wanda would like. In the end, you went with a lavender-citrus scent to match your formal attire. You were so distracted by everything that you glossed over the fact that she knew where you lived.

Three knocks sent you practically sprinting to the doorway. You opened the door so fast, that you almost hit yourself with it. 

"Well, hello, beautiful! You look amazing." She said reaching out to you with a big smile on her face, having to hold back her laugh seeing the gawk on your face. She didn’t blame you, though; she knew you’d love the red suit and had it made for this exact occasion. "Come on, Sugar, we’ll be late if we don’t get a move on."

"Wanda I-… Wow." You were short-circuiting; you couldn’t even form a complete sentence as you let her pull you to her car. A very fancy all-black Pagani Huayra that costs more than your entire existence. 

 "You like it, sweetness? I was having doubts about this one." It was easy for her to lie to you. She never once questioned the suit. 

"Hell yes, Wanda, you look so damn good." A genuine smile finally appeared on your face, and Wanda was determined to keep it that way.

—

The date went amazing. Wanda almost didn’t want to leave the restaurant, but she knew something even better was waiting for her once she got you home. Before she left her house, she triple-checked that she had everything prepared.

The drive back to her place was relatively normal until the end. Wanda had parked the car on the side of the highway. She placed her hand on your thigh; she knew you wouldn’t object to it, and she knew you had trouble saying no your entire life. "Sweetness, I want to know how this date was for you." And while she genuinely did, she also needed you to be distracted. So as you were telling her how much fun you had, she was able to prick the side of your neck.

"What the hell was that?" you said flinching moving your hand to your neck.

"You’re all mine now, Sugar." And that was the last thing you heard before you passed out. 

The rest of the drive for Wanda was silent. She was super anxious and kept her hand on your thigh the entire time, occasionally glancing over to make sure you were still breathing. 

When she finally arrived home, she brought you to your new room in the basement, mentally thanking herself for adding more weights to her workouts. She just couldn't wait for you to wake up.

— 

It was only an hour later, and finally, your eyes fluttered open. The bed beneath you was so soft, that you were tempted to close your eyes again. 

"Oh, you’re finally up, Sugar! I’ve been waiting so long for this; please kiss me."

You didn’t have time to comprehend what was going on when suddenly you felt her lips on yours. You tried turning your head away, but she gripped your cheeks so tightly that it hurt. Your only other option was to kiss her back and hope she’d stop soon. 

"Oh, sweetness, that was better than anything I could've imagined! Daddy is so hard right now. I need to make love to you. Please, baby, don't deny me any longer." She said panting heavily. All her movements were rushed as she practically ripped the dress off your body. You scrambled to cover yourself, but she smacked your hands away.

"Wanda! Wanda! What are you doing?" You screamed, trying to throw her off you. 

Finally, she stopped for a second, but the look in her eye told you she wasn’t done. 

"I don’t want to have to punish you on our first night together, Sugar. But I will if you continue to misbehave. I understand this is our first time, but from now on you will be calling me Daddy. Do you understand?"

What was wrong with this woman? You should’ve known better; you knew it was too good to be true, and now there was no way you were getting out of this. So you nodded, hoping that if you played along, it would get you out of here quicker. 

"I knew you would sugar; you’re so good for me," she said, leaning down to suck your nipple. Moaning wildly as she practically humped your leg. It took everything in you not to moan. "I hope you’re ready, sugar." She said while ripping her pants off. She didn’t even bother to take off her underwear, instead opting to pull her cock through the slit. 

Your eyes went wide once again. It was real! What the fuck?

"Enough staring; open your legs for me. I can’t wait anymore." She states practically tearing your legs apart. She didn’t even prep you as she sunk into you slowly with a deep groan. She gave you exactly two slow thrusts before quickening her pace.

"Oh fuck!" You accidentally let slip, and it gave her the confidence to speed up. Your hands grasp her muscular waist as if that would slow her down. You were going to cum really soon if she didn’t stop. "Daddy please!" That only seemed to spur her on more as she brought her hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly.

"You can do it, Sugar, cum for me! Cum all over Daddy's cock." And with that, you did. You came with a scream, shaking under her. You watch as she pulls out and starts quickly jerking herself on your face. "Open that pretty mouth nice and wide for Daddy." She panted. You parted your lips, and she shoved the head of her cock in your mouth and came so hard you could see the veins on her abs.

"Swallow for me, Sugar. You’re such a good girl." She panted watching as your throat bobbed up and down with effort while stroking your cheek.

You couldn’t help it anymore, and you started to sob as everything came crashing down on you all at once. 

"It’s okay, Sugar. Daddy’s got you now, and she’s gonna take care of everything."

Taglist:

@aemilia19 @eliii1sblog @theylovethesky

[purriteen]

Ad victor spolia, chapter two

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure

but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next

word count: 3,345

Previous chapter

Next chapter

You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.

At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.

Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.

When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.

Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew. 

The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it. 

You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.

Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.

Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.

Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain. 

A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.

You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous. 

You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris. 

Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.

You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing. 

As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. 

You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.

A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.

Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.

You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year. 

You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’. 

Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet. 

Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.

Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.

You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born. 

There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving. 

Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.

Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him. 

Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.

It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.

You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.

When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you. 

You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her. 

Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.

You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.

Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.

You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.

Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.

When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.

The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner. 

But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.

Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror. 

You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you. 

You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.

When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for. 

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

[kuromochimi]

Pros and Cons

Rin Itoshi x F!Reader

If you’ve seen friends or if you want to see where I got the prompt from, it’s from when ross had to choose between two girls and made a pros and cons list to help him decide.

Content: angst to fluff, aged up characters (18+), not proof read

Rin didn’t think he’d ever end up in such a situation. See, despite there being a long line of women willing to climb mountains just to have a chance at being with rin, he very rarely entertained any of them… mostly because he already had his eyes set on someone else. You. But life’s circumstances never really gave you two any way to work on what you both knew could happen. He was mostly having away games or training and you were too busy with a blooming career somewhere far from where he usually wad. “It’s not the time”. The line rin would always tell himself. The right time just never seemed to present itself.

Unfortunately, time won’t always be friendly to continuously missed chances. After years of not having anything happen, rin came to the conclusion that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Besides, you’ve had a few boyfriends and situationships here and there and rin, being surrounded by his team mates and their stories about how good it feels to have someone supporting them from the stands, he got impatient so he decided to give someone a try. Mai. One of the team’s PR managers. She always was nice to rin, pretty, soft spoken, understanding, basically what most men would want. Fortunately for rin, she also seemed to harbor some sort of attraction towards him. Nothing serious at the moment but definitely something to start with. A few dates here and there. Hang outs at home and all. Mai was aware that rin couldn’t commit yet and neither was she. The arrangement they had worked for both. But boy, was timing a bitch to rin. Roughly 3 months into dating mai, rin was rendered frozen in place when he received a message from you.

You: Rin! I’ve been assigned to work near your home stadium. Did I get that right? idk if that’s what you call it but yeah. I just moved in yesterday. Want to meet up? :)

As rin was mindlessly staring and repeatedly reading your message, reo passed by and “accidentally” saw the message. “dude, who’s that? isn’t mai going to get jealous?” Rin snapped back into reality after realizing his friends had seen what was going on. Isagi looked as well and as he read the contact name, a bulb went up his head “oh wait isn’t that the girl you used to like before you started dating mai?” A few banters here and there about the team invading rin’s privacy, shidou chimed in out of nowhere “Know what? Why don’t you make a pros and cons list for the girls? I know damn well you still like that one but you also seem smitten as fuck for mai so.. pros and cons man” and most of the time, only bullshit comes out of shidou’s mouth but god, rin was at such a crossroads, he gave in. With the help of his teammates, a list was made.

Later that day, rin agreed to meet with you. It’s not that he had already decided or that he was confident you still had feelings for him but he thought it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he had already asked mai about it and she was more than okay with it. She even half joked half meant said that if things work out between you and rin, she should at least be invited to the wedding. When rin arrived at the meet up place and he saw you sitting and looking around, there was no doubt in his heart. It was still you and he was a big fool for ever thinking that dating someone else would ever work. Not to deny that mai was a great girl and that they matched pretty well.. it’s just that you were it for him. At that moment, he thanked the heavens that his arrangement with mai wasn’t serious yet. He felt bad having to end or because the relationship had its fair share of ups but, god, seeing you again just locked him in and it would feel wrong dating anyone else when he was this crazy for you. Rin walked up to you and gently tapped your shoulder. You immediately looked back to see him and as if on instinct, you jumped up to hug him. “Rin! How have you been?!” You exclaimed while still hugging him. “Hello to you too, yn” he calmly replied back while hugging back, cradling your head gently in his hand.

The meet up went as well as you had hoped. Lots of catching up, rin touring you around, trying out different food places. It was a fun welcome to the city. In the evening, as rin was about to drive you home, he realized that he left his phone at the restaurant. “Sorry yn, can you wait a bit, I think I left my phone” you gave him a gentle nod as he left the car. You let out a heavy sigh because god were you nervous. You wanted to finally try it out with rin since you were close by and distance wouldn’t be an issue anymore. As you were thinking of ways to tell him what you wanted to do, a piece of paper with your name on it caught your attention. It was at the little compartment in between the driver’s seat and your seat. Not meaning to be nosy but also being extremely curious, you picked it up and unfolded. You were half expecting a cute note but you were met with a pros and cons list. Specifically the cons list which had “unstable” and “needs career” which you immediately interpreted as him conveying that you looked to have no stability and that you had a career he deemed insufficient to consider as a relevant enough career. And it hurt. It hurt because he was right. Compared to him, your career was small and you couldn’t exactly blame him but you didn’t think he’d see it as something bad enough to consider it a “con”. You didn’t even realize you were crying and you didn’t realize that rin had just opened the door to his seat. “Yn? Hey what’s the matter?” He sounded so worried and caring but that didn’t matter. “I- I’m taking a cab, rin I’m sorry” his eyes darted to the piece of paper in your grasp and his face fell pale. “yn listen, wait” he gently grabbed your wrist and you let him. “I know this looks bad. Fuck, it is bad. But it’s not what you think. I don’t think you’re unstable or any of that. It’s just.. what I’m trying to say is that you being busy with your career, we wouldn’t be stable is what I’m trying to say there. And that you wouldn’t want to pick anything over your career at the moment. I swear I just.. I’m not good with words please believe me. And the other girl on the list, I tried dating someone else but when I saw you today, everything just fell into place. I like you still, I know you know that. She knows it too” and he was telling the truth. It just wasn’t sinking into your head that he was saying that he wanted a relationship? The person you’ve loved since senior year of high school likes you back. You always had a guy feel but he never acted on it so you brushed it off but now he just confessed. “Let me make it up to you and all the years we missed?” Rin asked with a smile.

[thefallennightmare]

Rest-Nick Folio

Pairings: Nick Folio x Reader

Warnings: maybe a swear or two? fluff, lots of it.

Summary: Reader plans a little rest and relaxation weekend away with Nick after a five-weeklong tour.

Authors Note: Enjoy this cute ass one-shot filled with so much fluff it'll make your teeth rot.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Nick's knee bounced with agitation or excitement.

I wasn't sure.

With a crooked smile, I shook my head. "I told you it's a surprise."

The cab pulled to a stop in front of the busy airport and while Nick grabbed our bags from the trunk; I double-checked our flight reservations along with our bed-and-breakfast reservation. Our flight was scheduled to leave on time, and we would land an hour before check in.

Perfect.

I pocketed my phone then looked over to Nick, who was walking over to me while carrying both of our bags. I offered to carry my own, but he smacked my hand away.

"Three years later and you still try to carry your own bags," he chuckled.

I sighed playfully. "I'm just trying to lighten your load, Nick. You've been working so hard the last few weeks and you only got back last night from tour."

The sounds of planes taking off over head echoed loudly around us as people maneuvered their way throughout the crowds, trying to make their own flights.

With his bag slung over his shoulder and pulling mine behind him, Nick laced our fingers together and we walked into the airport as I led us towards our gate.

"I was fine staying home with you, sweetheart. But you woke me up at five this morning saying you were taking me somewhere," Nick finished with a yawn.

Guilt pulled at my heart seeing how tired he was. Bad Omens finished their five-week-long tour last night in Los Angeles so thankfully, Nick didn't have a long travel day back home but even with him coming home at 2 this morning, I still had to wake him up early so we could make our 10 am flight.

Yesterday when I showed up to the venue for his show, that was the first time in five weeks that I'd seen him. We'd been together for the last three years so I was there from the beginning when Bad Omens were playing the small stages at Warped Tour to now watching them play in sold out venues for the last two tours. Ever since they blew up on Tik Tok and gained such an immense following, all the guy had been working tirelessly to be the best they could for their fans. Touring, writing music, or trying to get in the studio to record. They hadn't had more than a few days off where they weren't doing some kind of work so to say the deserve all the success is an understatement.

To say that Nick deserves this week away I had planned for us was also an understatement.

I also planned that this trip was a strict 'no work vacation,' and I sent a text in the group chat that I created of Noah, Ruffilo, and Jolly to let them know. While Ruffilo and Jolly wished us fun on our vacation, Noah told us all the cons of where we were vacationing too.

You know it rains like all the time in Washington, right? How is Nick going to ride a motorcycle or fish?

It's October, it's probably cold as hell. Why don't you guys go somewhere warm, I'm sure Nick would love to see you in that red bikini.

You sure you don't want us to come with? We could make it a Bad Omens get away and get some time in to write.

I swore my eyes rolled so far to the back of my head; I was sure they'd get stuck. Noah, always the cheeky one. I replied to him saying it was a strict no work vacation with only Nick and I and I'd left the red bikini back home.

"I'm sorry for waking you up so early but I wanted to make sure we'd make our flight," I defended with a slight pout.

Seeing how long the check in line was, I came to a slow halt and checked my watch. It was only 7:30 in the morning which meant we had plenty of time. Nick could tell I was a tad agitated so his thumb began tracing circles on the back of my hand as he held it.

"Can I at least have a hint where we're going?" He asked while bouncing on the soles of his shoes.

Fuck, he looked so good with his bottom lip pouted out like that. It'd been so long since we had sex that I was nearly crawling out of my skin wanting a taste of him. It was hard enough keeping myself off of him in public so when he took off his hat to shake out his hair then place it back on backwards, I nearly moaned into a puddled mess which Nick simply winked in response too.

"You know," I brushed the imaginary lint away from his shirt, "We're on vacation. You don't need to wear a Bad Omens shirt. This is supposed to be a work free trip."

Nick shrugged. "It's comfy."

The line for check in slowly moved up a few paces and when we came to a standstill again, I wrapped myself around him, not giving a shit about PDA.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart," Nick mused while pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I wish you could have came with this tour."

I pressed my cheek to his chest, breathing him in. "Me too but there was no way my boss would let me take that long off. It was hard enough getting this week off."

We moved up another few steps before coming to another standstill. Since we had plenty of time before takeoff, I wasn't too worried with how long it was taking for check in.

Nick pulled me closer into his chest. "You should quit. I make enough to support the both of us and this way you can come on the Europe leg of the tour in a few weeks."

As tempting as the offer sounded, I was thankful I didn't have to give my answer because the line moved once again. I was about to detach myself from him to walk but Nick held tighter to his grip around my shoulder and walked with me. My hand slipped from his side over to the pocket of his jacket but quickly, Nick shifted which made his arm fall from around me.

I raised a brow. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

He cleared his throat before a smile spread to his lips. "I'm sorry, you scared me that's all."

My eyes narrowed, not believing a word he said, but choosing to ignore his weirdness I turned my attention towards the TSA lady as she began our check-in. Thirty minutes later, Nick and I were sitting in the seats near our gate, me staring out the large window towards the runway and Nick typing feverishly on his phone.

"What's Noah saying?" I didn't bother to ask who he was texting because I already knew it was Noah.

Nick turned off the screen then pocketed his phone. "He wanted to make sure we made it to the airport."

Bullshit.

Something was weird with Nick since the incident with me reaching over the pocket of his jacket. Here I was hiding this secret vacation all the while he was hiding something from me.

"Right," I muttered, leaning far back into my seat.

He let out a long breath and linked our fingers together, his thumb brushing across the skin of my hand, and the gentle touch made me rest my head against his shoulder. I felt every breath in and out he took, head rising and falling, and Nick tilted up my chin towards him so he could capture my lips in a kiss. It wasn't a full-blown make-out session, but deep enough to make my head spin and heart flutter.

"What was that for?" I asked breathlessly.

"I just wanted to kiss you, that's all."

By now, more people arrived at the gate, building a slight crowd, and inevitably, someone would notice Nick; someone always did. It wasn't like we were hiding our relationship but Nick never publicly made it known to everyone on the internet we were dating. Pictures of us filtered all throughout the web and people made their own assumptions, as they always did. I didn't mind if Nick kept our relationship on the down low because that meant we could enjoy the quietness of our relationship for a day longer.

"Someone might notice," I jokingly teased.

Nick hummed before leaving another kiss on my lips. "Let them."

I giggled into his lips and cupped his cheek as we pulled away. "I'm still not telling you where we're going."

Somehow, I kept it hidden what our destination was even at the gate because Nick seemed to be preoccupied with something else.

With a pout on his lips, he let me settle back into him by linking our hands back together.

Six days later and I was exhausted.

Nick was surprised and very ecstatic that I planned a vacation in Washington State. We hiked a few of the national parks; he fished almost every day, and we ended each night with a motorcycle ride, one we rented for the week. The weather was beautiful but not quite warm enough for that red bikini. When we weren't out doing things, Nick and I were laid up in bed at the bed-and-breakfast doing other things. Today was our last day, and I was more than ready to spend it in bed, continuing to do those other things, but Nick had other plans.

"Can you tell me where we're going?" I begged as I held onto his arm.

He lead me from the car up towards the forest trail, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, how the tables have turned."

Rolling my eyes, I watched as the setting sun cast us in an orange glow and marveled at how gorgeous Nick looked tonight. He wore a simple black shirt with jeans to match and his hair was slicked back. A bit dressed up for hiking but nonetheless, he was breathtaking.

"This will work," he said while coming to a stop.

I gasped when I stared down over the mountain ledge. Orange, yellow, and brown leaves atop of the trees and a flowing stream down below; the sound creating the perfect background noise to the atmosphere. Everything about the scene was beautiful that I pulled out my phone to snap a few pictures, oblivious to Nick who was standing right behind me.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hm?" I turned on my heels and this time, instead of gasping at the scene, I let out a high-pitched squeal. Nick was kneeling on one knee with a black velvet box in his hand, unopened. Sweat gathered at his brow as he let out a long, shaky breath.

"The last three years have been the most baffling but amazing years. You've stayed by my side through the lowest times of my life and the highest of highs with the band. When I thought we wouldn't make it big, you were there to cheer all of us on during our first show. You were there when we played our first sold-out show, and I hope you'll continue to be there when we win a Grammy."

Tears pooled at my eyes as I covered a hand over my mouth.

"I know being with me hasn't been the easiest sometimes. I'm almost always on the road or with the guys recording but yet, you still welcome me home with loving arms. You're everything I could ever ask for and then some. I truly don't deserve this but I am so thankful you haven't given up on me. You planned this entire weekend away so I can rest and I'm kind of high jacking the rest of the trip but I've been planning this for a long time. I wanted to ask you before I left for the Europe leg."

Nick let out another shaky breath as he opened the box; a black diamond with a gold band catching the light of the setting sun.

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

"I love you so much, Y/N. Will you marry-."

"Fuck yes!" I shouted, not letting him finish.

With his own tears falling over his cheeks, Nick pulled out the ring, and it slid over my finger with ease. I jumped up, wrapping myself around him and crashed my lips onto his. His tongue immediately pushed its way into my mouth, tasting every inch, and my hands scratched and pulled at his hair. I nibbled on his bottom lip as he reluctantly pulled away. Both of us were crying happy tears, me more so than Nick, and he brushed them away with one hand while the other kept me hoisted up in his arms.

"Did the guys know about this?" I asked.

"Yeah, why do you think Noah wanted to tag along?" Nick chuckled.

I gently brushed the hair away from his eyes so I could stare deep into them. "Still want to support me?"

At first, he looked at me with a raised brow but then as he thought back to what he said back in the airport, he eagerly nodded. "Whatever you want, sweetheart, it's yours."

"Well," I kissed his lips tenderly. "Looks like I'm coming to Europe with you."

[yandereheathen]

Loving Caretaker [18+ Yandere x GN Reader]

Warnings! -Yandere obsessive Behavior -Non-con - Drugging -Gaslighting - NSFW (unprotected sex is a no no!) Word Count: 1445 He couldn't help it. Part 2.

Korm sat smiling at you as you peeked into his room. It was time for his lunch, the smell of the potatoes and leek soup creeping into the room mixed with something else as the cool fall air pushed into his stuffy room. Your scent. Like outside, a sweet, earthy smell he wished he could take into his whole body, not just his lungs. He relaxed as you softly stepped up to his bed, setting the wooden table on his lap in front of him. As per ritual, he went to his head, brushing his dark hair from his forehead. Your fingers made him excited, but he controlled himself. After all, it was other touches he wanted more. He leaned into your hand, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment.

"You are still a bit warmer than yesterday. I know you enjoy your weighted blanket, but I am worried you get too hot."

It was a crunch, perhaps. The blanket was a cheap replacement to make Krom feel like you were holding him tightly as he slept. He shook his hand, leaning on your shoulder as you let go of his head and sat beside him. 

"I like it. Also, it gets frigid at night Y/N. It is just the seasons changing. Didn't my Mother tell you how I got worse this time of year?"

You let out a heavy breath as you hug the poor man to your chest affectionately like a mother would her child. He, however, had other thoughts as you held him to you—a less Savory moment of you both where his face is at your chest.

You take his face in his hands and squish so his lips pucker up at you and take him out of his daydream. Your eyes sparkle at him with warmth and love as you massage his face, listing what you would do today. Breakfast, physical therapy, and some reading of the newest Brandom Sanderson secret novel that just came out, and if he were good, you would sneak him some time on your switch to play whatever game you wanted.

If he was good, he was your good little patient. He wanted nothing more than to hear you praise him and spoil him like you or the last three months you have been under his Mother's employ to take care of him.

The pleasure of all your attention made the fact that he was faking everything that much easier.

It started about the age of 15 when he realized when he was sick, everyone spoiled him. His Mother, his siblings, and even the doctors and nurses. They indulged him, and he thrived in the attention and care he got from them. He has in-home nurses, men and women rotating when they got too close or started noticing his charts didn't quite add up to how he looked. However he had them handled, no one would question poor, sickly Korm. 

You, you were different than anyone he had met. He knows you were put on this earth to care for and love him. He was here to be cared for and loved by you. He couldn't think that you were possibly just the kind of person who loved watching for others, and your smiles and careful touches had no hidden romantic agenda behind them. You should only look at him and care for him. That is what you were made for. It just took a frustratingly long time for you to get to him. He will forgive you, though. He always does. He would never stay angry at you for long. You were his whole world, and he was yours.

He would make sure of that.

As you both sat outside watching the leaves fall, his head was nuzzled in your lap, clinging to your thigh as you patted his head, playing with his dark hair as you read to him. He was in bliss. He loved laying outside with you as you read to him, your voice filling his ears, the warmth from your core on his cheek. The calm from the story was all that was holding him back from biting into the skin that his shorts were showing. While his mind wandered, you briefly set the book down.

"Korm, how are you feeling? If you need another sweater, you can use mine if you like."

How cute.

He nods, frowning slightly, feeding into the act by shivering barely, even if he felt perfectly fine. You undid your sweater, a tight T-shirt under it. His eye loomed over, and a small smile spread on his lips as you wrapped him up in your warmth. You hugged him while you did so, pausing for a moment; you let him go and turned him to you.

"Korm, I am going away next week. Just to go see...a Friend. Your Mother and I had coordinated the nurse to stay with you. I will ensure you are all set and she knows what you like. I will be back before you know it.."

His heart stopped. Now, he really felt sick. You couldn't. He needed you like the day required the sun. You couldn't leave him. You couldn't a b a n d o n h i m.

His thoughts raced, making him dizzy on his feet, and you held him, calling his name.

Who was this friend? Where were you going? What if you didn't come back. What if something happened to you? What if someone took you away or you got hurt. Our worst, what if you fell in love with someone. You were so sweet, so gullible, and caring. Anyone can just trick you easily.

He wouldn't let that happen. You were his. You would stay with him.

After his "attack," you had settled him back in bed, running around, making sure he was warm. And comfortable while calling and speaking to his doctors and Mother. He just looked away from you, stewing. His plan formed as you stepped outside, and he sat up to let his doctor look over him.

"You know, it might be my trouble sleeping. Doctor, would you have anything strong to help me sleep. Something that won't wake me up no matter what? I think it will be the perfect thing for my issue."

He stoked your face as you slept in his bed, hovering over you. 

So precrious while you slept. Of all the times we would sneak into your room next to him, this was different. Your breathing was lighter, and the tea he had made you was a special.. addition. It was next to your bed, empty.

He had already gone through your phone. The messages from the person with the pink heart beside their name almost made him sick. You must have just forgotten. You were made for him and him alone. He would remind you. He hit the delete and block buttons with pleasure, not before sending a nasty message to them. He canceled your flight and even, to be extra careful, canceled your cards as well. That will keep you here with him for a while.

He cooed at you, nuzzling your passed-out neck as he climbed over you. That smell, the warmth. He needed to be closer. He needed to be with you.

He wanted to be inside of you. Make sure you have a part of him wherever you go.

He bit your ear, sucking on the soft plush lobe, his hands wandering along your sleeping form. 

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much it hurts. Won't you take care of me like you always do?"

He settles between your legs, kissing and sucking down your neck, lifting your shirt so his greedy mouth can indulge in your taste. He needily pressed himself to you, his cock painfully hard and already leaking with his love for you, rutting with the force of months of nasty thoughts about this moment. He finds his way to your nipple, which is now hardened and rising fast with your intake of breath from his attack of kisses and humping. He smiles, sucking his other hand, massaging and pinching the other. 

He sits up after giving your chest 10 minutes of attention and feeling you cum against him from the stimulation with satisfaction. He licks his lips, unable to wait as he presses himself to your now lubed-up hole, his eyes crazy with his love for you.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I will take care of you this time. I will ensure that I will take care of you daily for the rest of your life. My wonderful, wonderful caretaker."

Author Note: ahhh here it is...I feel like it was short but here we are :> my first writing I hope everyone like it <3

[ofmdrecaps]

09/10-17/2024 Daily OFMD Recap Pt 1

Hey all. Sorry about the format, and I even said this was coming yesterday and then some crazy shit happened ONCE AGAIN because life is crazy like that. Please bare with me as I get the different parts out -- and please let me know if I missed anything major!

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Kristian Nairn; Vico Ortiz; Con O'Neill; +

Part 2 / Part 3

== David Jenkins ==

David has been at it again, making us cry even more with admiration of our beloved Captain.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And David reached out regarding the other trailer drop anniversary!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

Coming up in another section for Taika in part 2, as we know whenever Taika goes to any event, someone complains about him, so David sent a very sweet reminder about him (although the second one, I'm not sure if he's calling Taika old or not lol).

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And just in case you weren't tearing up from Chaos Dad's kind words, he has some for the fans too.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And just a friendly reminder that fanfiction CAN help you go places. (Lincodega now works as a writing assistent for IWTV)

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

In related but news, Rhys did a cameo for Kitten Rescue LA! They constantly get so many kittens in that they can't take care of. This is a really sweet video of him endorsing, but as mentioned below, there's a CW you should be aware of.

CW: Mention of Pet Euthanasia

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kitten Rescue LA (@kittenrescuela)

Rhys is also giving us more Substack Content previews-- this time of Bill Napier from Short Poppies <3 Wanna subscribe to his substack? Check it out here!

Source: Rhys Instagram

Rhys has announced on his substack (the non-paid content) that he'll be touring next year!

Source: Rhys' Substack

If that isn't enough Rhys for you-- good news! He'll be in Los Angelos at the Largo at the Coronet at 8 PM on October 1! Get tickets here! (Special thanks to Sara for pointing this out!)

Source: Largo LA (found via Sara aka chaoticmulaney on Twitter)

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian's book has arrived at his house! He did an unboxing video for everyone to check out! Only a week or so left til release!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

Oh, Kristian mentioned he was going to be getting a tattoo while and Portland, and hey look, it's Kristian's New Tattoo!

Source: Kristian's Instagram

Need more of Kristian? Well look no further, he's got a new DJ Appearance happening Oct 4, 2024 at the Ministry of Sound Club in London!

Source: Kristian's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

So much news for Vico! First and foremost, Vico was voted a Fan Favorite Out LGBTQ+ Actor in the Autostraddle TV Awards!

Source: AutoStraddle TV Awards

Vico also has some exciting things coming up-- they mentioned an upcoming Momentus Event on their Patreon (free version)!

Source: Vico's Patreon

Looks like Momentus is excited ...and dropping hints!

Source: Be Momuntus Twitter

Vico also had some more pics from Rose City Comic Con they wanted to share--

Source: Vico's Instagram

Vico did some amazing work for Elder Scrolls Online and is seeing some love coming down the pipeline-- they have some BTS up for it on their Patreon if you're interested!

Oh I almost forgot to mention, Vico was featured on Dimelo Season 2 Episode one!

== Con O'Neill ==

Con's new short film, "The Men" is FINALLY coming out on October 25 at the AlnwickPlayhouse! Our friends over at @adoptourcrew were kind enough to let our UK Crew know where and when they could catch it before the rest of the world! Get tickets here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Instagram

Continued in Part 2!

[jenna-ortega]

there's been a glitch

vertigo act II

pairing - joel miller x female reader word count - 4.6k warnings - infidelity, jealousy, angst, cunnilingus, somnophilia, dub-con(not rlly but you'll see), kissing, joel isn't mean but he's stupid(as most men are) a/n: hello all! hope you're liking this new serious. let me know how you like it, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next..i may or may not heed that advice ;)

SUMMARY: joel doesn't want to acknowledge what happened. when he does acknowledge it, you don't like his decision. maybe you need to get over this. or maybe you need to show him you're something worth missing.

previous chapter - series masterlist -

series playlist by the wonderful @lovers-liability

The rest of your October was filled with the aching pains of rejections. A feeling between embarrassment and intense longing for something so out of reach, yet you’ve touched it with your fingertips. The buzzing electric of what you wanted to call a feeling deeper than impulsion. You cherish the smell of Joel on your body, clothes, and mind for the lonesome three weeks he’d left you hanging. How could he touch your body the way he did and not think to check in? 

He’s a monster. You start to believe it. Everyone in this town would throw themselves in front of a bullet for the man who makes it his mission to protect everyone in the settlement. Oh, but how could you take a bullet for the man who is seemingly behind the trigger? 

Your body has been stuck to the bed all morning. The same predicament you found yourself in yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that. You got what you wanted, right? A taste of Joel…so why did you feel so sick about it?

A loud knock followed by the swinging of your door startled you out of bed, grabbing the closest thing,( your bedside lamp) as a weapon for the intruder. 

“Whoever you are, you better get the hell out! I’m armed!” you called down from the bedroom. Your thinly veiled threat held no weight as you heard footsteps creep closer to your door, 

“I’m serious!” you shout. 

“Alright killer, it’s just me.” 

Your shoulders immediately shrug in relief. Tommy.

You walked to your bedroom door, swinging it open and presenting your very threatening weapon,

“Any closer you woulda been picking lamp pierces out of your skin…” you smile sarcastically. 

Tommy breathes out a laugh, slowly inching to you and grabbing the lamp from your hand, placing it on top of the dresser to his right,

“You’re taking it out on the wrong brother, darlin’” his eyebrows cinch together as his gives you a toothy grin, 

“Haha. Very funny.” you cross your arms, “Why are you harassing me at the home, miller.” 

You begin to walk away from Tommy, feeling his presence follow behind closely to your bedside, 

“You love the marathon of halloween movies we play through the month…haven’t seen you at one yet. Got me worried ‘bout you” you sighed and turned to him, biting the inside of your lip, he notices your silence and continues, 

“They’re playing beetlejuice, your favorite…” 

Still nothing.

“Joel asked about you.” 

Your ears perked up and a slight smile spread across your face, blood rushing to your cheeks, “Really?” 

Tommy throws his arms to his side, “Jesus..” he says your name with a hint of disgust,

“I knew it.” he points at you, 

“No!! It’s…it’s not what you think. I don’t even care…” you lie, but you have to know

“...What did he say?” 

“Nothing. I lied.” 

You grabbed a pillow from the top of your bed and threw it at Tommy, “you asshole!” 

“I’ll shut up if you come with me to the movie.” he drives a hard bargin, 

“Fine.” 

—

Walking into the movies after not seeing the general public in broad daylight for weeks felt so odd to your eyes. The low light helps adjust your vision, and search the room for someone you know you should be ignoring. 

Check. You find a 5’2 brunette cursing like a sailor near the drinks. If she’s here he has to be here. Maybe she’s talking to….no. Not him. A slightly taller girl with tan skin and black hair…definitely not him. 

Tommy breaks you out of your trance, hand falling on your back as he pushes you further in the room.

“We’re gonna clear everything out of here and hold the halloween party here next weekend…” he leaves the statement open for you to comment,

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Remember we spoke about the matching costumes?” – 

You couldn't answer him, goosebumps adorning your body as you feel those eyes on you. A visceral reaction only he can pull from him. 

Gotcha. Joel’s eyes burn into the side of your head, scowling as his eyes trail Tommys hand on your back. Blowing out a breath of frustration as he shakes his head, 

He didn’t mean to ignore you. God he’s so stupid. He couldn’t comprehend the feelings you ignorantly ripped from him by only being true to how you felt. He’s never been pursued so unapologetically. Never had a body react like yours had to him. Vanessa was out of convenience. You are out of unadulterated chaos. Chaos he has been welcoming in each and every night with his fist wrapped tightly around himself, thinking of the sweet sounds his body pulled from you. Knowing it was him that could bring you to a blubbering mess has him coming over his knuckles with a groan. He cleared his throat as he was lost in his thoughts, not realizing the moment had come and gone of you noticing his watchful eye. 

His eyes encourage you to act a little more open, a little more…daring with Tommy. Throwing your body on his arm as you laugh, grabbing his bicep as you look up at him, 

“Hey.” Joel squeezes himself between the two of you, nodding at his baby brother and throwing him a glaring look, 

A few minutes go by allowing Joel to make awkward small talk with Tommy, not once inviting you into the conversation. 

You caught him looking at him, and you made a face at him. His lips going tight and his nostrils flaring, you smiled now and walked to where the 5’2 girl was standing just half an hour ago. 

Only one set of footsteps trail behind, 

“Can we talk?” he whispers, but you pretend you can’t hear as you continue to walk, 

“Can’t hear you.” you’re petty. 

“I said–” he grabs the inside of the elbow and pulls you to a stop, “can.we.talk?” he enunciates his words in a low but menacing tone, 

“Haven’t wanted to talk in the past three weeks.” you make sure the coldness in your voice is evident. 

You look up at him through your eyebrows, crossing your arms as you look his face over once again. Even now he’s so handsome. Dark blue t-shirt, and regular jeans on. He could make the simplest outfits into pieces you’d worship. Your eyes trail down from his eyes to his neck. Redness prominent in his skin. You follow a vein with your eyes, getting lost as you land on his  flexing arm, snapping in your face, bringing you back to earth. 

“Are ya even listenin’ to me?” he says, and you stay silent. Letting him continue. 

“I know i’ve been –” you interrupt him, “a dick.” “distant.” he corrects you, huffing at your immature language. 

You have a stare off as the world spins around you both. How could nobody see the way your chest must be protruding from how hard your heart is beating. Your body in flight or fight mode, from something so little yet so big in your mind. He doesn’t deserve this reaction from you. He deserves nothing from you. You knew what happened between the two of you wouldn’t solve anything. But god, you asked him to stay. All he had to do was stay. 

“Maybe we can speak more privately?” he asks, tone lighter as he begins recognizing your signs of overstimulation, 

“Sorry, Tommy is waiting for me.”

“and is Tommy your date?” he states plainly. “Guess he looks enough like me for your taste.” His eyes flicker darker than before, jealousy spilling from his lips.

You slap Joel’s arms.

“Knock it off.” you warn.

“Tomorrow. Noon. Let’s talk. Come to my place.” he states, 

“What? So you can kidnap me and sell my organs on the black market…” you huff, beginning to walk away. “No thank you”,

He once again grabs your arm back, bringing you into the conversation you so desperately want out of. 

“You ain’t a kid, can’t kidnap you.” 

“I am. I am a child of god.” you joke, tilting your head in amusement. 

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not offering. I’m telling. You don’t show up, I come to you.” he steps further in your space, looking down at you, begging you to come back at him. 

You furrow your brows at him, whimpering in defeat, 

“Noon. Tomorrow.” 

—

Your legs go to mush as you walk step by step up to his porch. Not sure if you want to throw up or throw hands. 

Would you forgive him this easily if he asked? But what really was there to forgive…did he wrong you? Are you the one that should be upset? Maybe you’ve been acting erratic about this. Your self observation is cut short by the opening of a door, Joel standing in his doorway with his wide brown eyes, looking you up and down, smirking as you stand in front of him swaying. 

You both don’t greet each other. He gestures for you to come in, a polite smile is how you respond. Walking further into his place until he paces in front of you, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a mug from his cabinets,

You watch him delicately pour a brown substance, eyes squinting just as he looks up at you,

“Poison?” you question.

“Coffee.” he states blankly. 

He finishes his pours, pushing one mug over to you slowly, “milk’s in the fridge if you care for it.” 

A few awkward beats of silence arise between the two of you while you both sip down. The bitter liquid burning your tongue a bit, he catches the wince in your face, “‘s hot.” he warns then, 

You nod at him, putting the heavy cup down and sighing. Joel mimicking your actions, 

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s everything you wanted to hear from him. So why is your stomach sinking at the words?

“For what?” you want to hear more. You want to make him acknowledge his careless actions. 

“For what happened between us–” he blinks downward, inside of his cheek catching on his teeth. He looks distraught, “I wasn’t thinking,” he continues, but you cut him off

“Wasn’t thinking?” you scoff, “wasn’t thinking when you stuck your dick halfway in me?” your stomach burns at the way he listens to your words, anger now apparent in all the small twitches you see adorning his face. 

“Joel…” you whisper, out of ammunition. “Why am I here?” 

The hairs on your body rise as his heavy boots walk to you, standing in front of your body as you turn on the chair, back slightly grazing his table. His eyes get softer as he looks at you, you know whatever he has to say isn’t good. With how hard of a time he’s having doing anything other than look at you as if you are an object he’s scared to break. Not a person he’s destroyed,, rather something he’s destroyed. Does he even see you as human? Why would he play with your emotions like this if he cared about the emotional wellbeing of others? Throughout this whole experience the same sentiment comes up…how is this the same Joel Miller everyone loves? How is this the same Joel Miller that you love, like?

“We…” he begins. “We can’t do whatever–” he points to the both of you, “this is” 

You’re silent. 

“I can’t give you what you want from me right now. I can’t hurt Vanessa, it’s too messy.”  his voice is soft, hands come to find yours. He’s trying, he’s trying so hard to do this right. Do right by you. But you’ll never believe that. You’ll never believe him. 

“I know, you don’t like mess.” your voice breaks as you whisper, looking down at where your hands connect. 

“I want you to get over this. I want to see you happy.” he pleads, 

“I’d be happy with you” a tear slides down your cheek as you tighten your grip on his hands. 

“You can't. We can’t” you notice how pained he looks, eyes red and glassy, 

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” you didn’t imagine you’d be saying this to him today. He apologized, and is doing everything right. Why do you want him to be the bad guy so bad? 

You stand, getting even closer to him as he refuses to budge backwards. 

“What is this–” your hand lands on his heart, “telling you to do?” 

He shakes his head, grabbing your hand off his chest and kissing the palm. Then kissing the back of your hand. Kissing up your arm, and then wraps your arms around his chest, being the first to break the heavy tension in the air by devouring your lips in his. You moan in his mouth, both of you smiling into one another. 

Your hands find the bottom of his plaid shirt, unbuttoning the last button with your mouth attached to him. Your fingers finding his second button, surprised when he stops you and pushing your body away as if you’ve hurt him. 

“We can’t…” he shakes his head as he looks away, “shit…we can’t.” he says your name sternly. 

“Please–” you beg. You begin crying in front of him, not quite sobbing, but tears are expelled from your eyes at an alarming rate. 

“Tell me you care about me. I know you care about me.” you demand, poking at his chest while looking at the tall man who’s looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed, 

“ ‘course I care ‘bout you, princess.” he reassures you, “You mean something.”

“Then show me how much I mean to you.” you’re beginning to lose all sight of why you came here. Your emotions take over any rational thoughts you would have had in this moment. All your mind cares about is not losing Joel. Never wanting to lose Joel.

You rush him, trying to unbutton the loose shirt again. Throwing yourself at him erratically, 

“Stop.” you don’t stop. Continuing to try and take his shirt off, hands reaching his belt and taking the leather out of its loop, “Please.”

He backs up, trying to deter your behavior. “Hey, hey, we can’t.” he doubles down, not wanting to physically hurt you but feeling as though that would be the only way to get you off of him. 

“I’ll change your mind, please let me change your mind.” you sound unhinged. Your voice shakes as you continue down onto your knees, unbuckling his belt,

You’re ripped up painfully, Joel’s hands squeeze the inside of your arm, “NO.”

He throws you back, readjusting himself in the process. His eyes look sad, watching as you sob to yourself in front of him. Your palms wipe away your incessant tears, looking down at your hand to see mascara marks. 

“I think this talk is over.” His stance on this has you sniffling, looking at him as if he’s your number one enemy now. For just speaking the truth, for trying not to hurt you. 

“Joel, don't do this.” you're almost silent, “I’m sorry.”

As the silence lingers in the room, both of you looking at each other and not knowing where to go…your heads turn to the side hearing the door close shut. It’s her. Vanessa. 

And you can’t do this. You can’t go through this again. You feel trapped, the walls are closing in on you and everyone is laughing at you. This is wrong. This is so wrong. You book it out of there. Leaving the two people alone with themselves. 

You’re halfway home when they have their conversation. 

“What happened?” she asked, 

And he lied, like he’s been doing so many times recently, “Tommy’s been a dick. Tryna help ‘er out with my baby brother.” 

—

Halloween night is a night in Jackson that feels so much like the real world. Costumes, candy, alcohol, boo’s, everything October should be. You needed to keep your mind off of him, that’s how you find yourself bartending with Tommy for Jackson’s halloween bash. 

“Where’s your tail?” you scream over the loud party at Tommy, who’s pouring a drink on the rocks for some sexy bunny at the bar. 

“I’m one’a those dogs without one.” he admits, 

“Tommy…i don’t think that’s a thing.” you laugh at him, “Look..” you shake your tail at him. “We were supposed to have matching tails.” you laugh. 

You both planned on matching costumes, a sexy cat, and….a tailless dog? 

It’s been a week since you’ve seen Joel, and you’re happy. You feel like a fool for throwing yourself at him, and being so shameless. He’s not worth it. He so is. No. He’s not. He is.

“Ya okay?” Tommy sees the inner argument with yourself, dragging a shot your way. “Take it. Make the night more fun.” 

And boy was the night fun, watching all the different costumes in the room. Dancing behind the bar with Tommy, forgetting everything this month has done to you. You needed this, you really did. It’s well within the night and he hasn’t shown up. 

You’re happy he hasn’t. Why does he get to ruin your night with his presence? Fuck him. Your drunk thoughts are heavy tonight, woo’ing at everything and shaking your tail whenever the band plays anything with a bass. 

The bar encourages your shots, you and Tommy feeding each other them throughout the night. And when you both feel just drunk enough to not fear consequences, you hop on top of the bar laying down, pulling up your black shirt to reveal your stomach. Tommy pouring peach flavored run on you, and licking up your stomach to your rib cage to your chest, laughing as he slurps up the rest of the shot. The whole bar is cheering, and your eyes catch his finally. 

Fuck he looks good. He’s in his cowboy hat, and has a rag around his neck. Denim shirt and those fucking boots. He’s everything you remembered him to be, and better. He’s gorgeous. And he’s looking right at you, his eyes burn into your body. He’s upset. 

You turn to face the cheering crowd again smiling, and try to find him in the crowd again, but he’s lost. You don’t think about him for the rest of the night. 

—

It’s just a little past midnight when you’re almost home. Appreciating the makeshift Halloween decorations, you come closer in view to your house. 

Your heart drops as you see a figure near your door, now wishing you took Tommy up on that offer to walk you home. 

You walk closer to your home, trying hard to quietly close in on the figure without him noticing. That is until your porch lights come on, and the figure is revealed. You jump slightly before you realize you’re safe. It’s Joel.  

He turns around sloppily to look at you, scoffing as you come closer to your own property, 

“Well look who finally decided to show up–” he hiccups, “Oh, it’s only 1 am.” he emphasizes.

“That’s when the party ended.” you’re not in the mood. 

“Guess you didn’t want any more bodyshots huh? Had to come home cause–” hiccup, “there was no one else to bat your pretty lil eyes at?” 

Oh he’s drunk. You smile to yourself, feeling almost happy you’ve now gotten to see the always put together man not put together. 

“Come inside,” you walk past him and unlock your door, “You’re trashed.” 

“I’m not trash.” he whispers drunkenly to himself as he walks in behind you, completely mishearing what you said. 

He belches up beer bubbles as he walks further in, he rubs his eyes as he stumbles to your living room couch. Falling to it with a loud “thump” 

You decide this is your time to annoy him. He shows up to your house drunk and unannounced…you figure you’re allowed to berate him. 

“Don’t speak for a week, now this?” you question, plopping down next to him. Crossing your legs into themselves. 

“I ain’t had the best night.” he admits, grunting as lays back. 

“This the part where you want me to ask what happ–” he interrupts you, “Vannesa ain’t want nothing to do with me no more.” 

At this moment, you know you’ve wanted to hear those words for months. You want to smile and laugh and feel great, but watching him like this makes you feel the exact opposite. You feel bad for him. Seeing him in pain like this, you just want to make it better. 

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” he states dryly, 

“But it does,”

“No…the only thing that matters right now–” he slides himself over to you, pushing you down as both his hands catch your wrists, forcing your thighs around his big ribcage, “is you”

You start to laugh, having a giggling fit underneath him. His face scrunches in confusion, mesmerized by your smiles lines, “Why ya laughin, princess?” he asks, and you use all your force to push him off you. Earning a small but stern, “hey,” in defeat from him.

“Go to sleep. You’re drunk and reek of IPA.” you push him down further, pointing at him and mouthing “stay” 

You work on getting his boots off for him, unlacing and unbuckling them, pulling them off and placing them next to him. Your hand traces the rag around his neck, finding the knot in the back, and before you’re able to help, he grabs your wrist, pulling you down closer to him, 

“I don’t want you workin’ at the bar anymore.” his voice is low, but has a tint of malice to it

“Who are you to tell me that?” you answer him defensively, 

“Someone who cares about whether men gauk at you,” he’s upset, 

“You have no right to tell me what to do.” you double down on that, wondering where this has come from all of a sudden. Why does he think he has any say in what you do with your life, when just a week ago he was making sure your lives were never melded again. 

He lets go of your hand and slouches back against the couch, “Fine, maybe I don’t have a right. It still upsets me.” For someone who’s drunk right now, he sure does explain himself far better than when he’s sober.

“Let’s talk in the morning.” you begin helping him take his shirt off, looks like some sort of drink spilled on him. As you get close to him, unbuttoning the denim, feeling odd at how this exact scenario plays entirely different just a week ago, he reaches up and tries to kiss you. You swerve him. “You smell like Jack Daniel’s and Cigars,” you say in disgust, 

“You smell like Vanilla and cotton candy,” he says in a dreamy voice, he catching you off guard as he grabs your hand again and sucks your pointer finger, and you feel the vibration of his groan on you as you pull away hastily, you push him down and once again warn him,

“Stay. Sleep.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You grab him some lukewarm water and whatever pills you’re able to muster up for the hangover you know he’s going to have in the morning. You place down the items next to him, and notice he’s already out cold. 

—

You’re dreaming of him. His hands on your body, tearing you apart. The way his beard would rub against your thighs as you squirm beneath him. God, it feels so good to dream like this. To have a place you both can be so unapologetically together. Your body is heating up, you feel yourself slipping away from the dream world. You don’t want to leave, you feel too good. You wanna stay. You wanna, — oh, 

You jolt up and moan as you feel yourself gushing, the feeling of your hips pushed down to prevent you from squirming are extremely evident and real as you look down and see a messy bead of brown curls between your legs. “Good mornin’,” his southern twang evident in his sultry voice as he continued to lick stripes up your fold, 

“Joel–what, what are you doing?” you question through your breaths, your eyes shut as your body tenses from his lips suctioning onto your clit, he groans and the vibrations send signals to your spine to arch, moaning his name loudly as you do, 

“Thanking you for taking such good care of me last night.” his hot breath against you cunt, 

Your head turns to look outside, still dark. It can’t be past 4am. Your head is forced to look back down as you scream from shock at the loud ‘slap’ you hear as his hand collides forcefully down on your cunt, rubbing and playing with you as you’re dazed out from sleep. 

“Such a good princess for me, always so good for me.” he praises as his lips go back to your core, his strong tongue entering your and pistoling back and forth inside of you. Your hand reaches to grab hold of his curls, his arm, his hand splaying out across your lower stomach to hold you still, he’s all over you, he’s all around you. You never want to be woken up another way. 

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue darlin’, can you do that?” you whimper, your hands holding the pillow next to you in a death grip, your eyes locked onto one another as you shake your head frantically, 

“Words. I need words.” he slaps down on your cunt, offering a sigh of pain from you as you obey his command, “I can do that. I can do it. Please, Joel” 

He says your name sternly, forcing your eyes to yet again stay locked into his brown one. God he’s beautiful, between your thighs and sprawled out on your bed. He couldn’t help himself when he woke up, head banging from the endless amount of liquor he’d ingested. He saw the water, the pills, his boots perfectly placed next to him. Even when he was out of line, you did all this for him. You gave him a safe space, even when he took away all of yours. Walking to come find you, he saw your halloween costume in various places in your room, your body on its back and breathing peacefully. God you’re amazing. He knew that, his eyes trailing down your body, your night down short and silk. Do you always sleep in this? Easy access. He thinks, and his mind can’t stop his body from pulling your sheets down, hands finding your calves and trailing up the sides of your thighs. Finding the one spot he knows is his, he’s going to take it. 

And that’s exactly what he does when he elicits the loudest noises from you when his tongue is inside of you, lapping up your juices as his fingers rub tight circles on your clit. He’s taking, taking, taking, and boy do you have so much to give him. He groans painfully into you as you pull his long locks while you cum on, rubbing your core on his face, feeling his nose on you as he pulls his fingers away. You rub yourself on his face for a little longer, twitching at the aftershocks of what only he knows how to pull from you. Sinking back down into the bed as your heavy breathes even out. Come still dripping from you as he carefully places your nightgown back over yourself, kneeling out from between your legs and crawling next to you in bed. Pulling the covering up onto you and him.

It’s not lost on you how much you know this changes so much for you. And when his large hands pull you into his chest, feeling his warm stomach against your back. You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does.