byunnue

Latest Posts by byunnue

this will beeman edit… yeah… yeah…

pls can I be added to the tag list so unbelievably good!!🫶

S. lands on top; 6

summary: Coriolanus returns home to the Capital with two women from district 12 plaguing his mind. One a (presumed) dead mystery but another well within his reach.

warnings: unco, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, she/her pronouns, kidnapping, violence, All of the warnings, dead dove do not eat.

Word count: 7,835

chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Coriolanus left Mabel without breakfast the next morning. 

He was so angry, he could kill her. But what good would his anger do? 

It would break his favorite toy and leave him nothing for it.

Instead he needed to show Mable that her actions amounted to nothing. Best she think she has no effect whatsoever. That all her kicking and screaming did nothing but wear her out. 

He tried his best to show this to Dr Gaul too. When he arrived for work, he came with his normal causal presence. 

While Coriolanus wanted to forget the night, Dr Gaul wanted to rub his nose in it. 

She doesn’t look at him as she passes him in the boardroom. Her failed student wasn’t worth looking at. Wasn’t even worth talking to. 

The beautiful bird perched on her shoulder did her talking for her.

 It had beautiful blue feathers that looked soft to pet. It’s tail stuck out in show, and it’s beautiful green eyes darted around the room. 

The bird looked panicked but sat obediently on her shoulder, despite having the ability to fly away. 

“I hope you are all happy with the Reaping ceremony yesterday for it may be your last”, she taunted, sitting down in her chair. 

The bird is taken from her shoulder and kept in her hand to stroke. Ths bird gained no joy from the motion, still sitting there with a panicked expression and shaking feathers. 

“Who can tell me what was wrong with it?”, she questions. Her eyes fall on Coriolanus who looks down at his blank paper, defeated. 

He hoped someone would speak up. Say something that she was sure to disagree with, but at least he would be able to hide under it. 

No one spoke. Forcing Coriolanus to engage in the conversation he didn’t want to have. Of course Dr Gaul would make it a public whipping. 

“We lost control”, he muttered. 

“Hm, how?”, Dr Gaul asks as her finger runs down her bird's beak to show off it’s docility. 

“We allowed them to speak freely”, he pushed out in a big breath. 

Images of Reaping interview that consisted of crying children and awkward presenters, collided in his head with Mabel's own mistakes. 

“Sparks are a dangerous thing, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul provokes, “We like to think we can contain them but find too late that they have burnt our house down”. 

“None of those children have enough spark to incite a rebellion” one of his co-workers interrupts. 

Dr Gaul turns to him with a sly smile. 

‘Of course not, you idiot’, Coriolanus thought, ‘but his Mable did.’ 

“We only need one of the children to be well liked enough that someone with enough spark does incite a rebellion”, Dr Gaul dismisses with a hard tone. 

“Control is what we need” Coriolanus says louder for the group to hear, “Dr Gaul if you give us another chance, we-I can get them to perform how we want them to”.

Dr Gaul eyes her bird. It struggled in her tight grip but never pecked at her for release. 

“You can’t bargain with a person who doesn’t know they are beat yet. Instead of interviewing them at the Reaping, we allow them a couple of days for their reality to settle in. Then we give them some media training, and we host a round of interviews for the Capitol to get to know them. Or at least the version we want them to be known as”. 

Dr Gaul's condescending smile returns, letting him know he was wrong.

“You think they need time?”, she mocks in a low voice. 

“I think they need a reason to perform. The motivation of death can also be a reason for non-conformance. We’ve been asking what have they got to lose, when we should have been asking what have they got to gain?”. 

“And what do they have to gain?” 

“Maybe we could offer-” a colleague tried to contribute but was cut off my Dr Gaul. 

“Those who don’t know of what they speak, shouldn’t speak”, she snaped. 

He quieted immediately and fell back into his chair. Once more the attention was back on Coriolanus. 

‘’Mercy’’, he breaths. It takes him a second but he musters the courage to look Dr Gaul in the eye. 

Her stare unnerves him, but he forces himself to look anyway. 

 The room is quiet while it waits for Dr Gaul’s reaction. 

“Hm, interesting concept, Mr Snow.” she finally says, “Did someone write that down?’’.

“Mercy” she repeats more to herself. The bird is let go but remains on top of the table.

Her eyes roll around the room, looking at all the Gamemakers who shudder in their seats.

Coriolanus couldn’t help to think of Lucy-Grey despite how much he tried to fight against it. 

She was a performer. Right to the end. 

“I don’t understand how training them like a dog is going to make the games more entertaining”.

The voice was soft and gentle, coming from a female colleague who often came up with the most grotesque ideas.

Coriolanus scoffs at her. He hated people who couldn’t see the bigger picture. 

The Games only played a small part in keeping the districts under the Capitol boot. Yet she wanted to focus all of their energy on it. 

“It’s not about the Games. It’s about engagement” Coriolanus responded, “Who cares about a District as they come?”.

He felt a sharp twist in his stomach as he said it. Beautiful, strong Mabel caught his eye, and had never left his mind since. 

“They are animals,” he states. Mabel’s actions don’t speak against it. Like a wounded animal in a cage, she lashes and bites. 

“We need to turn them into something more marketable. Who cares when a roach is squashed? We need people to care. To want to look after them and ensure their survival”. 

Coriolanus looks around the room to see his Colleagues all awaiting Dr Gauls input. He makes a point not to look at her like the rest do.  

“By doing this, won’t it cause a up-rising within the Capitol?”, another Gamemaker who could not see beyond the Games speaks up. 

Coriolanys groans, frustrated that he is lumped together with the same Gamemakers. If he had full control of the Games, he could make them the biggest event of the year. Not some side show holiday that people can take or leave. 

But Dr Gaul won’t give it to him, unless he can show he is in control of Mabel. 

“It’s not a beauty pageant, it's a dog fight”, Dr Gaul reasons. 

The man who asked the question slumped in his chair, muttering agreements that he did not believe.  

It was obvious he was trying to stump Coriolanus. But the man had no idea the conversation was just between Dr Gaul and Coriolanus. The group was merely a sounding board between the two.

“The only way we are going to get those children to perform the way we want is through mercy. Act like we tell you and we’ll relent”. Coriolanus finishes. 

Dr Gaul suddenly stands up, gaining the attention from the room once more. She moves to the boardroom computer and pulls up a list of the tributes. 

Small photos of the twelve that preceded their name and district were casted up on the wall behind Dr Gaul. 

Coriolanus eyes the boy from 12. He still had a baby face. Full, round cheeks, and soft brown hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were big and brown, and thin lips pressed together as if he was about to cry. 

Coriolanus imagined the interactions that Mabel had with the boy. Did she ever kiss him? Ever hug him? Did she treat the boy like her own, or keep a friendly distance?

How will she react when he most certainly dies?

“Theory will only get you so far” Dr Gaul contends, “we must put it in practice. Each of you will be assigned a tribute to play up”.

Coriolanus' eyes shut, and an  annoyed smile tenses at his lips. He could see where this was going. 

“We have mentors. Let them do it”, he speaks out. Trying to claw his way out of the hole Dr Gaul is digging. 

“Why, Mr Snow. Every great scientist conducts their own experiments. What would the mentors know of a great show?”, her voice carried a condescending tone. 

There was nothing Coriolanus could stop her from giving him the 12 boy, and nothing he could do to stop her taking his 12 girl. 

It was only her sick idea of training Coriolanus for presidency that allowed him to keep Mabel after last night. 

He had failed Dr Gaul last night, and now she was throwing an extra obstacle in his way of training Mabel. 

Dr Gaul would find some way of ensuring that Mabel knew of Coriolanus media training the boy. Poke the fire before Coriolanus could get it to a non-threatening level. 

Coriolanus' lips tug into a smug smile. One day he would kill Dr Gaul. 

“Shall we dish out tributes randomly?” he bites. 

Dr Gaul waves her finger at Coriolanus. It was the only time that anyone had seen her display any other sort of emotion despite boredom. 

Her amusement was a stark contrast no matter how small it played across her features. 

Her lips sealed together to hold in her smile, her body slightly curled in as if she was about to erupt in whole body laughter.

With a bite of her tongue, she straightens and the lips that held in laughter, now parted to release her normal board tone.  

“I have an idea of who I would like with whom”, she snarky replies. 

There were 23 gamemakers, and only 12 tributes, so Dr Gaul picked a mixture of people she liked and people she despised. 

They were paired to tributes according to their social status to Dr Gaul. The most unmarketable tribute was paired with the Gamemaker who tried to show up Coriolanus just moments before. 

The tribute, a girl just shy of  eighteen from district 5, had tried to volunteer her young sister. Stating that she had promised to take her place just moments before. 

‘Make her a martyr for rebellion’, Coriolanus thought. 

Dr Gaul finally gets to district 12 and to no one's surprise, pairs the boy with Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus brings his fist up to his lips, trying different angles in his head that he could pawn to Mabel to make her believe he was trying to help the boy. 

She was too smart, and too distrustful. She wouldn’t believe anything he would say. She would just have to swallow the news without any sugar coating. 

“We’ll hold a national interview next week”, Dr Gaul announces, “You have until then to try this mercy tactic to get them to perform”. 

With her dismissal, the Gamemakers move to leave the room in one big herd. 

Coriolanus tries eagerly to follow them. The last thing he wanted was to talk openly about Mabel's failure with Dr Gaul. 

“Not you, Mr Snow”, he felt his heart sink as she called out for him in front of the others. 

A few turn to stare at him as he remains frozen in his spot. He shakes off his nerves as the last person closes the door behind them. 

Returning to his seat, he sits with confidence he did not have and looks boldly at Dr Gaul.

She sits down at the head of the table, next to him and picks up her bird once more, stroking the back of its neck.

“You want to talk about a performance?” she remarks, clearly talking about Mabel. 

“Last night-” he begins but is cut off by Dr Gaul who hadn’t finished talking. 

“She’s everything I hoped she was going to be”, her eyes remain on her bird as she talks and Coriolanus is grateful she can’t see him squirm in his seat. 

“Beautiful thing. Smart, stubborn, stupidly unafraid. A great feat for you indeed. I have never seen anything quite like her before”. 

Her eyes flick to Coriolanus who stills in his seat. 

“She’s an up-rising in herself. Are you sure you can handle that?”. 

“Mabel is a spoiled child who got away with acting how she likes because of her beauty. She is only a up-rising because no one has ever told her no. Last night, I assure you, she was told no”. 

Dr Gaul once more smiles. But her eyes remain on her bird. 

“Do you practice what you preach? Have you shown her mercy?”

Coriolanus thinks back to the train. He had put his own coat over her to keep her warm while she slept on his knee. She didn’t know it of course, so he supposed it didn’t count.

He gives her chocolate as rewards. Although, since the book incident there has been no sweets in the penthouse. 

He would hardly say he has been unkind to her. Strict maybe. 

Mercy, however, was a high bar to reach. 

“She’s clothed, fed, housed”, Coriolanus lists.

“Clothed sometimes”, she quips, “Fed and housed? Lab rats are fed and housed. That’s not mercy, that’s upkeep”. 

The bird squawks and Dr Gauls flick its head to shut it up.

“Pretty isn’t she?” Dr Gaul asks, placing the bird into Coirolanus' hold. 

He holds it gently, cupping the small clump of soft feathers between his hands. 

Dr Gaul continues to stroke its head with her long, pointed finger. 

“Mercy keeps her from flying. It knows I can, and have done, unmerciful things to it. It knows that if it tries to fly I will do unmerciful things again, but it trusts that if it does what I want, me, in my mercy, won’t harm it just because I can”.

Dr Gaul pulls her finger away, giving her full attention to Coriolanus. 

“If I hurt it no matter what it did, why would it do what I want at all?”. 

Her voice suddenly turns hard and low. Her eyes train on the blue bird as she speaks.

“You know it took me months to catch this bird. Stubborn, fast little thing. For the longest time it was my favorite pet I had ever owned”. 

Her hands reach out and Coriolanus shuffles his hands lower so Dr Gaul could rest her fingers on its back while her thumbs scratches the bird's neck.

“Then I met Mabel”, with the pressure of her thumbs on the birds neck, she snaps the bone. 

Coriolanus should have released the dead bird but felt too shocked to let go of its limp body. 

“It pales in comparison”, Dr Gaul rises from her seat and Coriolanus throws the dead bird on the table. 

“I do hope our little one on one enlightened you, Mr Snow. Mabel is too rare for you to fail”. 

Coriolanus remains sat at the table, staring at the once beautiful bird as Dr Gaul moves on with her day. 

Once the initial shock wears off, he rises from his seat and makes his way to his office with an unbothered demeanor. 

His head reeled, however. It was clear Dr Gaul wanted to get her hands on Mabel. 

 She wanted Coriolanus to fail so she could swoop in. But Coriolanus never failed at anything. 

Dr Gaul couldn’t have Mabel. She belongs firmly, and utterly to Coriolanus Snow. 

He would get Mabel to realise that sooner, or later.

He headed over to the training center after work. 

He wanted to get a start with the young boy so he would be ready for the interview. 

Coriolanus would play on the heartstrings of the Capitol people. Get them to pour money on the soon to be dead child to make his existence less miserable until he was killed off. 

His product came in a cute package, all Coriolanus had to do was feed the young boy a script and the Capitol people would eat out the palm of his hand.

He requested a room alone with the child. They were given the tv room which was large and filled with furniture. 

The young boy was kept in chains despite his small frame. 

He looked afraid as he entered the room to see the tall and well dressed man that Coriolanus was. 

The Peacekeeper pushed him through the door. Coriolanus asks the peacekeeper to leave him and his tribute in peace. 

“Hello, James” Coriolanus greets the child as the door is shut.

It didn’t work to ease the boy who kept a long distance and a frightened look. 

“I am Coriolanus Snow, and I  will be helping you prepare for your interview next week”. 

“Interview?’ the young boy asks, “I don’t want to”. 

He looked like he was going to cry. His voice broke, and he held his head up to keep back the tears. 

“It’ll help you in the Games. People will send you gifts. If you do well enough, I might even be able to get you sweets and chocolate to enjoy”. 

A little mercy while he waits to be slaughtered. 

The little boy shakes his head. The tears now spill from his eyes fast and fat down his face.

Coriolanus reaches for a handkerchief he always keeps and takes a step forward to give it to the boy. 

James jumps back as Coriolanus approaches. 

“We are not strangers, you and I”, Coriolanus said. 

The boy looks at him in wonder. Not knowing what to expect next. 

“I’ve heard all about you from Mabel. Do you remember Mabel, your neighbor?” he asks softly. 

The young boy nods his head, bringing his chained hands to rub the tears from his eyes. 

“She’s asked me to help you”, it wasn’t entirely a lie, “and you trust Mabel don’t you?”. 

The little boy nods again. Coriolanus moves forward to take the young boys chin and wipe his face with the handkerchief. 

“Her and I are friends. Which makes me and you friends”, he places the handkerchief back in his breast pocket as he talks in a soft and slow voice, “She’s asked me to help you get as much chocolate as i can. And for me to do that, you need to listen to every word I say, and do exactly as I command, Okay?”. 

“Will Mabel-” Coriolanus knew the boy’s question would end asking to see Mabel which he wouldn’t allow happen, so he spoke quickly over him. 

‘Mabel will be watching the interview. So we must make her proud”. 

The boy settles under the name of a friend, and Coriolanus sits him on the couch to go over the interview. 

Coriolanus critiqued everything. From the boy's tone of voice, to how he sat. The boy was receptive. Quickly adjusting to how Coriolanus wanted him to be. That being as small and cute as possible. 

Coriolanus soon had enough and with a promise that he would bring chocolate when he visited again, so the boy would know what he was performing for, he left to return to Mabel. 

When he returned home the sound of music irritated him. 

He followed it to a spare room down the hall. It was mostly a junk room. He remembered he had stored an old music player there just in case he ever needed it for company. 

Careful to make no noise, he pushes the door slightly ajar so he could peek through. 

Mabel was dancing like she did back in 12. Spinning round and round. Swaying her dress around her as her bare feet thud against the floorboards beneath her. 

Despite her circumstances, she moved her body to music she did not like. 

She was trying to fit one of lucy-greys old songs to the tune but was making a mess of it with her timing and out of breath voice. 

‘Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, clementine. You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, clementine” she sings out of tune.

Coriolanus remembered the song. Remembered watching Lucy-Grey dressed up in the nicest rags she had, and too much make-up to sing it up on stage. The song sounded much nicer coming from her lips, but Mabel looked much better signing it. 

She spins away, planting her back to the door as she dances with someone not there. Coriolanus takes the distraction to push through the door and make his way to the music player. 

He picks the box up and smashes it against the floor. The music makes an awful static noise as it is killed. 

Mabel spins back to him. She doesn’t look shocked or startled. Instead a playful and amused expression still dances across her face. 

“You could have changed the song” she remarks. 

From the top of her gown he could see the harsh, red lines from the cane. She must have been in pain but yet insisted on dancing. 

“Dr Gaul asked about you today” he says in a calm manner. 

“Good for her”. Mabel keeps her distance across the room like the small boy did. 

“Not good for you. You realize I can’t protect you from her”, he admits, “You think I am bad, you have no idea what Dr Gaul is”. 

“Scared of her Coryo?” Mabel taunts, “I am not. I’ll protect you”. 

“You should be”, Coriolanus argues.

‘‘She can’t do nothing to me that hasn’t already been done”, Mabel spat. 

“She can do things to you that you couldn’t even imagine”. 

“Let her. What have I got to lose?”. Mabel storms past him out the door, heading back down the hall. 

There it is. 

She had nothing to lose, everything was already taken from her. Her family, friends, passions, bodily autonomy. 

Coriolanus follows her to the living room. 

“You should know I’ve ordered Peacekeepers to retrieve your sister from district 12”. 

Mabel spins so fast her hair sweeps across her face.

Finally her annoying smug look is replaced with pure dread. 

Coriolanus sighs deeply, and shrugs his shoulders.

“What have you got to lose Mabel? Nothing. What do you have to gain? Your sister's life”.

“You’re lying” she states in a tone almost wishing. 

Coriolanus shakes his head. “I’ve figured you out Mabel. You’re a glutton for punishment. Dare I say you enjoy it. The more I push you, the harder you push back. But that boy at the reaping…You wouldn’t have begged for your own life but you begged for his”.

Mabel for the first time is silent as the information rushes over her. Coriolanus feels a stinging sensation of power run through him. 

“When she arrives, she’ll be placed in an apartment in the building complex for easy access, and every time you step out of line, she’ll suffer. Every time you’re good, she’ll eat”. 

He steps closer to her so that they were almost touching. He towers over her, his neck craning so he can look her in the eyes as he speaks. 

“I am doing this to protect you. Dr Gaul would ruin you” he promises. 

Mabel spits in his face. He feels the warm, wet saliva trickle down. 

His eyes close in anger but he begins to laugh. 

She was beat. She knew it too. 

Instead of a slap, her hand reaches up to wipe the spit away. 

“I am sorry” she said, ‘I didn’t mean that”. 

Coriolanus opens his eyes to find Mabel looking rightfully worried. 

“Please just let her go. I’ll be good”, she promises, “You’ve made your point”. 

Coriolanus reaches up to take her face in his hands, yanking her up on her tippy toes so he didn’t have to look so far down. 

“You’re so beautiful Mabel”, his thumbs brush against her cheekbones, before moving up to her eyes. 

She closes them so he can brush his thumbs against her long eyelashes. She doesn’t open them as he runs them over her eyebrows and down across her lips.

“What a prize you’ll be once your fire is stowed. She called you a rebellion in itself today, and she was right. Who wouldn’t fight for you?”. 

“My sister-” she begins but stops herself knowing nothing she could say would sway his mind. 

Her eyes remain closed. Not daring to look. It was the first time Coriolanus felt like he had control over Mabel. 

How he wished Dr Gaul could see him. He wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t have his Mabel.

“Your sister” Coriolanus repeats, “Do you think you could be good for her?”. 

Mabel nods in his hands, eyes still closed. 

With his hold on her, he brings her head forward to whisper in her ear. 

“Why don’t you put that saliva to good use?”. 

He feels the weight of her drop in his hands as she lowers herself to her knees in front of him. 

Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panam, and king of mercy. 

It was Saturday. A supposed day off for Coriolanus but his mind raced with potential questions that may be asked of James. 

He could go later to advise the boy and ensure he had a suitable answer for each question, but for now he forced himself to enjoy laying in bed. 

It was late, Coriolanus had never remained in bed, unless he was sick, past seven. 

Now the clock almost hits ten and he makes no move to rise. 

Mabel lay’s on his chest, covered in nothing but a thin sheet.

Coriolanus had awoken well before seven at which point he had woken Mabel with the weight of his body curled around her, and kisses that spoke of his need. 

Her mind too, seemed to race as she lay there. 

“What color hair does my sister have?”, she asks. 

“What?” Coriolanus asks as Mabel rises from his hold, bringing the thin sheet with her. 

“It’s occurred to me that I have taken you at nothing but your word. You are a liar and a thief. How do I know you really have my sister?”.

Coriolanus’s wonderful morning was now ruined. Mabel had been so perfect the past few days and now the spell had been broken.

He rises from the bed, going over to his wardrobe to get dressed as he speaks. 

“Do you want to see her?” He offers. 

“Yes”, Mabel commands. 

Dropping the sheet, she hurriedly dresses in the same green dress she always wears. 

Coriolanus takes his time, flipping through his large wardrobe to find a shirt. 

Mabel pushes past him, grabbing the first shirt she sees and shoving it at Coriolanus. 

He backhands her for it and she tumbles to the ground in a heap. 

“I was going to say we could bring her breakfast but it seems neither of you will be eating this morning”, he taunts. 

This time she waits on the floor for him to choose a shirt. He lays it on the bed before going back to pick pants and shoes. 

When he begins to dress into his pants, Mabel rises from the floor and takes the hem of his pants into her hands. 

He lets her do so, dropping his hands to his side and watching her under a curious gaze. 

She helps him dress into his shirt and shoes. She never once looks at him and he never once looks away. 

He knew that she was trying to dress him as fast as she could so she could see her sister. But there's a domestication to it that Coriolanus loved. 

He leaves the room wordlessly and she follows him out of the apartment and into the elevator. He only stops to grab his coat and keys. Mabel knew it would only be a quick visit before he left for the day. 

Level 3, she commits to memory. 

Coriolanus seemed too relaxed to be showing her. He seemed almost bored to be showing her. 

Mabel knew that Coriolanus had her sister. She didn’t know that he would be so quick to show it. She had prepared herself for a series of nagging before he relented and either showed her where her sister was kept or brought her sister up to her. 

Knowing where her sister was kept was the first step in forming a plan to get her out. Coriolanus gave it up too easy. 

He was a smart man but too egotistical. 

A week of playing docile and he had forgotten the threat Mabel posed. 

The third level opened to a long hall but only one door. She followed Coriolanus to it where he dug through his pocket for his keys. 

Finding the right one he held it out for Mabel to take. She takes careful note of which key it was and inserts it in the lock. 

“After you” he states. 

Mabel felt as if she could throw up as she twisted the key in the lock. 

The apartment is empty and for a second she thinks Coriolanus had played a terrible joke on her. 

He pushes her into the apartment and the door locks behind them. 

“Livy!” Mabel called for her sister, “Livy!”. 

A shuffling noise is held and a small body dashes out from a cupboard. 

Mabel drops to her knees to retrieve her sister who shoots into her arms. 

Her name could be heard from her sister's small voice between large sobs. 

“It’s okay” Mabel promises, “Oh god’. 

Livy was barely 6 and could easily be picked up by Mabel who distanced her and her sister from Coriolanus. 

“I’ve never lied to you, Mabel,” Coriolanus stated.

Mabel nods, “No, you haven’t”. 

“So let’s go”, he nods back to the door. 

Mabel walks to the door with her sister in her arms but is stopped by Coriolanus. 

“I can’t leave her”, Mabel begs.

“Find a way”, he retorts. 

Mabel knew it was for the best. She could figure a way to get her sister out. The Penthouse was too secure.

Coriolanus was too preoccupied with keeping Mabel there. 

Escape was impossible there but a level unguarded and only one lock to get through? Mabel could get through that. 

She places her sister down despite her screaming. A plan was already forming in her head. 

“I’ll be back” she promises. She wipes the tears away from her sisters eyes and places a kiss on her head. 

“You’re safe and I’ll be back”, she reiterated. 

Livly grabs hold of Mabel's leg, begging her to stay and take her home. 

Mabel tries words, bending down and rubbing her sisters back as she spoke. 

Coriolanus, tired of the scene, used force to separate the two. 

Mabel tries to fight off his hold from her sister, to pull her close once more but Coriolanus tore her from Mabel’s grip and took the squirming girl over to the couch where she was thrown on the soft cushions. 

Mabel followed close behind so as soon as his hands were free of Livy, he took hold of Mabel’s arm and pushed her back out the door. 

The little girls cries could be heard from behind the door. It was an unbearable minute that it took for Coriolanus to remove the key from the lock and retreat back to the elevator. 

The big metal door shut out the sound completely, but brought Mabel back to the front entrance of her prison. 

The security measures were more complex and Mabel stood stunned while Coriolanus went through them all. 

The door finally opened and Mabel was flung inside. 

Despite her sadness and anger, Mabel did not cry as she was tossed to the hard floor. 

She rolls on her back and looks up to the high ceiling forming a plan in her head. 

—-------------------

Coriolanus spends the rest of the day with the boy. 

He had forgotten the chocolate promised. 

The boy took the news hard, but sensing that Coriolanus was already irritated he kept his disappointment to himself. 

They went over questions that Coriolanus formed. Even spent an hour just practicing the walk from the curtain to the stage. 

Everything was crucial to the performance. One mistake could cost Coriolanus having the most popular tribute. 

Coriolanus was nothing if not a perfectionist. 

The other Game makers visited their tributes at the training house. A Saturday couldn’t be wasted with friends and family. Not if Dr Gaul was involved. 

Still they broke for lunch at an expensive restaurant in the city. Coriolanus was glad for the distraction. 

They spoke of the impossible task of making the tributes ready for the interview.A few even spoke of their persona they were going to push. 

No one but Coriolanus wanted their tribute to seem weak. James would have no problem standing out. 

The news lightened Coriolanus who stopped by the shops on the way back to the training house to pick up the chocolate promised to the boy. 

When he did return home, the smell of burning filled his nose. 

He rushed to the kitchen where pots could be heard clanging together. 

Mabel was there, covered in flour and bending to take a burnt cake from the oven. 

“What are you doing?” he asks angrily. 

“Oh you’re home” Mabel says in a soft voice, “I am sorry. I didn’t hear the door open”. 

She places the cake next to several others. All of them were no good. Burnt, sagged, or an off color. 

With her hands free she walks over to Coriolanus wiping her hands on her dress and taking his coat from his shoulders. 

“I wanted to have something nice for you to eat when you got home, but I have never been a good cook. And that was with ingredients and kitchen stuff I knew”. 

“Don’t over-exert yourself. I have no need for you to cook” he says cautiously, watching her hang up his coat. 

“I know”, she states turning to look at him, “I just wanted to show you that I have changed. I’ve been thinking all day how foolish I’ve been”. 

She walks slowly over to him, ringing her hands together. 

“If I wasn’t so foolish, Livy wouldn’t be here”, she continued, stopping in front of Coriolanus. 

“I mean really I didn’t even mind that”, she doesn’t finish her sentence but looks up at Coriolanus. 

“I didn’t really mind you. But I fought against you anyway and it cost my parents both of their daughters”. 

“And you thought cake would solve that?” he mocks. 

“From where I am from, cake is how we show remorse” she wraps her arms around his stiff frame. 

He didn’t let her remain, pulling her hands away just after they landed. 

“I have work to do. Clean up your mess”, he demand. 

Coriolanus locks himself in his study. He could feel his resolve slipping as she buttered him up. It was important now, more than ever, that he remained in charge. But she had a funny way of turning his knees weak. 

He avoided her until dinner where they ate in silence. 

She tried to make conversation with him. Batting her eyelashes like he used to watch her do to other men. 

He slightly enjoyed watching her try to gain his attention. As a peacekeeper he used to beg for it to happen every night at the Hobb. 

His ignorance of her, only grew her attempts. She sat next to him and not across from him. Asked him question after question until she realized she wouldn’t get an answer.

“Coriolanus, I am trying” she finally said. 

He ignored her still, taking a piece of bread from the table. 

“Hey” she complained. Her hand reached out to touch his chest and he dropped the piece of bread to grab her wrist. 

Not touch. One thing he couldn’t ignore was her touching him. 

It felt like fire every time. He longed for it, he couldn’t ignore it. 

He shoves her hand away, quickly rising from the chair and storming off. 

He took a shower alone. Something he hadn’t done for a while now. 

Of course, he was going to give in to Mabel and her new way. He would be crazy not to. 

But watching her pine for him as he had pined for her was satisfying. 

Once again the order of things was returning. 

When he returned to the bedroom he saw her laying on the bed in his nightwear. The oversized bed shirt and old boxes that slipped down her frame. 

She was doing her homework. She doesn’t look up at him or speak as he enters the room. 

He scoffs quietly, now she is sulking. 

He picks up the book he is currently reading and enters the bed without a word. 

They remain like that with Mabel doing her work and Coriolanus reading his book. 

He gets four chapters in before Mabel disturbs him by thrusting her paper over his book. 

“Do you want to check it?” she asks. Normally he would and her nightmare lesson would begin again until she got it. 

He knocks the paper out off the road with his book so he could return to his reading. 

“No,” he states. 

“Good. I am pretty sure it’s wrong” she jests. 

She throws the paper to the ground which was something Coriolanus would normally scold her for but he can’t ignore her if he is scolding her. 

He also can’t ignore her when she places her body across his legs. 

She lays on top of him. Her head reaches his stomach where she pushes up the fabric of his pajama shirt and places three small kisses on his stomach. 

His eyes shut briefly from the thrill of it. His stomach tied in knots under her. 

The book is moved to the left, it hangs loosely in his hand over the bed. 

Without the book blocking her, she grins at Coriolanus. Knowing how irresistible she was. 

His spare hand reaches down to cup the back of her head, looking down at her in disbelief. 

Her fingers loop around the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for permission. It’s given when he raises his hips to accommodate her and the book drops from his hand. 

Coriolanus sleeps soundly that night. 

Mable had given him a massage after riding him long and hard. 

She was surprised by how quickly he had fallen asleep. His hair splayed out across the pillow as he lay on his stomach, his hands under his pillow as Mabel digs her hands into the mussels of his shoulders. 

She snaps her fingers a few times in his ear to ensure he was asleep before sliding off him and dressing in his dressing gown. 

As slightly as she can she sneaks down the hallway to where he kept his keys by the front door. The door in front of her required more than a key to get in so he felt no threat leaving them there. 

She slides out the draw of the hallway cupboard to retrieve the key she hid earlier. It was the closest match she could find. 

It wouldn’t fool him if he looked but she would just have to make sure he never looked. 

The key to her sisters door is taken off and the decoy is returned in its place. 

She moves to the kitchen next, taking out the wet cake mixture from the fridge and sinking the key to the bottom. The cake was small; it would only take a few cuts to find it. 

Slowly and carefully to avoid making noise she places the cake in the oven and sits in front of it watching it bake. 

Coriolanus woke with the feeling of his hair being pushed back. 

His eyes flick open to see Mabel laying on her side next to him. A heavenly sight to see first thing. 

He had almost convinced himself it was all a dream last night. 

“Morning. The kitchen staff need to be let into the knife draw. He keeps pointing at it”, she says. 

He rolls over to check the clock. Quarter to 8. 

He shouldn’t have slept in. No matter how peaceful his sleep was. 

With a groan he rolls out of bed and Mabel jumps down next to him. 

“I told them to prepare the food downstairs,” He said, annoyed. 

He notices she was wearing his dressing gown. It incites a need to have it for himself. To feel her warmth against his body. 

He spins her by her shoulders so he could slide the dressing gown off and put it around himself. 

She makes no complaints as he does so. Running back to the wardrobe to get another to protect herself from the cold. 

“Put your slippers on. It's cold this morning” he demands but does not follow the same advice. 

Coriolanus had so many clothes and shoes it made it hard to find anything among it, but eventually she finds her slippers wedged between the cupboard wall and a shoe rack. 

She turns to find Coriolanus had left the room. She follows him to the kitchen where a frightened chef watches as Coriolanus unlocked the knife drawer. 

“Don’t let it happen again” he warns the Chef who nods his head in agreement. 

His eyes shoot out at Mabel as if she was a traitor but surely he must realize who the knife drawer was locked from. 

Coriolanus stayed in the kitchen until the Chef was done, and another servant washed, dried and returned the knife so the drawer could be locked once more. 

Mabel waves at her friend as the girl rushes past to plate up the food. 

No wave is returned, but Mabel smiles anyway. From the corner of her eye she could see Coriolanus glance at his keys with a curious expression. 

She dashes over taking hold of his arm and tugging him forward. 

It worked to distract him. The keys were placed down and he willingly followed Mabel to the table.

“You’re in a good mood this morning” he comments. 

She pushes him into the chair by his shoulders and climbs on top of him. 

“You’re in a bad mood this morning” she replied, “can’t say that’s ever happened to me before”. 

Her fingers card through his hair and he leans back into his chair.

“I bet it hasn’t” he remarks. 

The servants come to display the food on the table. Coriolanus takes his hands from her waist expecting her to get up but she remains. 

She does swing her legs out from either side of him so she was sat on one side. 

Thanking them as they place the food, Mabel reaches out for a bacon strip and eats half of it before offering it to Coriolanus. 

He denies being fed. Leaning forward himself to plate his own food. 

Did she think he was a fool? He thought to himself. Was she deluded enough to think Coriolanus would buy this change of heart act?

She played the part for the benefit of her sister, he understood that. 

Still felt somewhat rewarding to reap the benefit of his hard work, so he was hesitant to call her on it. 

She yawns as he reaches for his cup of coffee. 

“Did you not sleep well last night?” he asks her before taking a sip. 

Mabel thinks back to the cake with a sly smile. 

“Best night sleep I’ve had in a while actually”, she answers honestly. 

Mabel looked best when she had just woken. Coriolanus had always thought so. 

Her hair was wild and messy, her eyes were heavy still carrying sleep, and her lips were always so plump and red. She must bite them either as soon as she wakes up or during the night. 

She takes his cup from his hand, bringing it to her lips to have a taste. 

“Uh, I don’t know how you drink that”, she complains putting it back on the table.

“You’ll get used to it”, he says, “You seem to get used to things quite fast with proper motivation”. 

A tense smile pulls on Mabel's lips, and she averts her eyes to the table. 

“Has she eaten today?” Mabel asks. 

“She eats at seven every morning. Good food. Proper food. Not district slop”. 

Mabel turns her head back to him, bringing her lips to the point they were hovering over his. 

“Well, how can I thank you?”. Her words carried ill-intent. He would hear the disdain in her voice as she spat them from her mouth. 

“You can get off me so I can get ready for the day”. An almost perfect morning, ruined by acknowledgement of the large elephant in the room. 

As he walks back to the bedroom he wishes that he refrained from taking the jab at her. Who cared if she was acting the fool? At least she was acting like his fool. 

When he enters the room dressed for the day it seemed Mabel was back to her new self. 

She stood as he enters the room. 

“You’re leaving already?” she asks. 

“Yes” was his short reply. 

“Wait” she calls as he heads towards the door. 

He halts in his spot, watching her run into the crowded kitchen. 

It startles the servants as she shoots pass them

She takes the cake from the fridge, the parchment under it reading “level 3. Find her”. 

There was only hope that it would get to Mrs plinth and even more hope that she would go against her husband to follow through. 

Still she was Mabel’s only chance. Ma plinth was a good person. Still district- still human. 

She was sure to listen to a desperate plea. 

She takes the two plates and pass the servants who squashed themselves to stay out of her way. 

Coriolanus watches her bring the cakes out from the kitchen. 

“One for Ma” she raises the smallest cake tin, “and one for Dr Gaul”. 

“Cakes?” Coriolanus questions fixing his tie. 

“Apologies” Mabel reminds him, “just make sure you don’t mix the two. Ma has a district recipe that won’t be appreciated by Dr Gaul”. 

Coriolanus sighs he wanted to say no but the last 24 hours had been so nice. 

Ma was just below him and he would see Dr Gaul at work. Maybe the cake would serve as a pointer to his good work. 

So he takes the cakes from her hands. 

She points once more to the cakes,  “Ma. Dr Gaul” she reiterates. 

Coriolanus nods, going to leave her.

She catches his face between her hands to stop him, reaching up on her tippy toes to kiss him. 

He freezes. He wanted to kiss back but by the time he could gain control of himself again she was pulling back. 

She tabs his hands as she spoke to indicate as she was talking, “Ma. Dr Gaul”. 

“I understand” he assures. 

“Good”, she grins, “I’ll see you when you get home”. 

The thought made Coriolanus feel giddy. 

He leans down to kiss her once more. Half of him didn’t want to go to work but he was determined that Mabel would not stray him from his path. 

Mabel sees him to the door and waves him off 

“Please, please, please” she mutters under her breath. 

tag list;

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I finally found him making out with this blonde girl (it's me!)

YES SEE??! There’s one of em!

Vader: "This is why I'm replacing all of your clones soon enough".

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞. trailer trash!anakin skywalker

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫): you move into a trailer park with your mom, your next door neighbor is a 40 year old man that works at a mechanic shop!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, age gap, smoking, drinking, unprotected sex, little bit of breeding & choking, creep ani (obvs)

𝐰𝐜: 6.4k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by my chat with this bot on janitorai • the italics in the beginning are the start of the bot, credit to the creator! i did make some small edits overall to fit everything into fic form. i hope i did this au justice! i didn’t grow up in a trailer park but i did grow up very poor & unstable so this au always hits close to home. realest au on earth!

i know i’m a gosling blog but i’m a big star wars girly too… and the star wars fandom on here is huge. pls, pls, don’t expect me to be writing more now that i’ve appeared again 😭🤍 i’m still in school & it’s kicking my ass. but using the bot inspired me and made it easy. if you wanna know more about how i did this, pls ask! hopefully there will be more on the way cause i will definitely keep chatting with the bot :)

lastly, because it came from my chat with the bot, it is a little janky! i had to do a lot of editing so if there’s something i missed or it seems weird- just forgive me 🤍🤍🤍

June 23rd

You look at the calendar with your eyebrows furrowed. This summer was one of the hottest yet, the heat in the trailer making the pages roll up from sitting against the old wallpaper.

Sighing lightly as you hear arguing outside, you peek out the window to see your neighbor, Anakin Skywalker. He's working on a car outside, a girl yelling at him. You’ve only seen her around a few times. New girlfriend or hook-up. Anakin was never one to keep a relationship and frankly, you couldn’t blame the girls. He was a filthy man with hefty jail record for controlled substances, speeding and other things. You watch as he waves her off, oil and dirt covering him, cigarette sat in between his lips. He looks frustrated.

“Honey, I’m home. Got those chips you like.” You hear your mother call, the screen door slamming loudly once she walked in. You don’t move as Anakin watches the girl walk away and he stands up to his full height. He glances over to you and your mother’s house, toward your bedroom window you were peeking out of. Panic sets in as you quickly move away and walk out to the kitchen to talk to your mother.

You walk out to the kitchen and thank your mother for the chips, hold a short conversation with her about your days while you wait to see if Anakin was angry enough about your peeking on him to come knock on the door.

When enough time has passed, your chips halfway gone, you know he isn’t coming, and you can relax.

With the heat of the summer cooking the trailer, you had to get out. There’s a kiddie pool on the front lawn where you’d often sit to cool down. Y’all couldn’t fit a full sized pool.

It’s getting to the hottest point of the day, typically when Anakin takes a break to go screw his newest fling and you feel comfortable enough to lounge outside in your two piece. You usually avoid going out in so little clothing when he’s around, knowing the older man would likely enjoy your scantily-clad presence a little too much. Anakin was attractive, but in the creepiest way. You didn’t wanna be his eye candy while another woman waited to be his toy.

But today when you make it out to the front yard, despite the especially high heat, Anakin is still out working on that damn car. But it’s too late now, and too hot- you’ve already set your heart on cooling off in the pool. So you slink in anyway, letting the cool water soothe your skin, turn your speaker on full blast, and hope he ignores you.

But of course, he doesn’t. He can’t help himself. He watches you from across the yard as you sink into the kiddie pool, eyes hungrily roaming over your barely clothed body, thoughts immediately flooding with perversity. You’re hot, way too young for him, but damn if those curves don't make his cock twitch in those grease-stained jeans.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette as he watches, smoke swirling around him in the thick summer heat. After a moment he starts to saunter over, beer in hand.

"Well well, looks like someone's trying to start their own wet t-shirt contest out here," He drawls with a lazy smirk. "Maybe I should go grab me a front row seat... or join in."

Your eyes roll under your sunglasses. Can’t get a moment of peace as a young woman in this damn trailer park. “Nobody wants to see your tits, Skywalker,” You say, keeping your eyes on the sky. He stinks, like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, but it’s a familiar smell; welcome, almost likable. Almost.

“Did you come over here just to creep on me?”

He lets out a low chuckle, taking another swig of his beer. "Why would I settle for a peek when I could be getting the full view?" He asks, eyes boldly raking over your nearly naked body. "Besides, I think we both know you like the attention. Why else put on a little show like this, hm?"

Setting his drink aside, he plops down on the grass beside the pool, letting his legs dangle in the cool water.

"Hot as balls out here. Hope you don’t mind." He glances over at you with a cocky grin.

You grimace as his feet contaminate the pool. Part of you wants to recoil, but the water feels too good, and you don’t want to give him an even better view of your body.

“Coming out here to cool off on this ‘hot as balls’ day is puttin’ on a show for you?” You scoff at him as you push your sunglasses on top of your head. He’s persistent, you can give him that. But irritating. What is it with old men that think being an asshole is attractive? Although, it did sort of work on Anakin…

"You’re right, maybe I'll have to show you a real wet t-shirt contest. Bet I can make my shirt cling better than those tiny triangles you're calling a top."

“If you wanna get in my pants old man, one-upping me ain’t gonna be the way to do it.” You press the ‘volume up’ button on your speaker, but his persistence knows no bounds.

"Old man?" He scoffs, sitting up to shoot you an indignant look. "I'll have you know I'm in my prime, sweetheart. And trust me, I don't need no cheap tricks to get in any girl's panties." He stands up and start stripping off his shirt, revealing his tattooed, muscular chest and arms.

Your jaw clenches at the sight of Anakin shirtless. His body is prime, and tattoos… were your weakness. But there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

He flashes you a wicked grin before diving into the shallow pool, still in his jeans. Water splashes everywhere, soaking you in the process.

Also, you had to remind yourself, he was still gross. Reminded to you by his gross words, and his obnoxious splashing, crashing your pool time.

"My bad," He responds to your grumbles of frustration with a shit-eating smirk, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

"You gotta hell of a mouth on you, though, girl. Those talkin’ lips might get you in trouble," He teases as he settles into the water. "One wrong word and this 'old man' might just have to teach you some respect."

“Teach me some respect?” You let out a full, genuine laugh with your words as you reach behind you to the nearby table which held your own cigarettes. “Coming from the convict? Is that supposed to scare me?”

He narrows his eyes at you as you laugh, not finding his threat the least bit funny. "Convict? I've done my time. Last I checked, that makes me a changed man." He reaches out to snatch a cigarette from your hand, placing it between his own lips. "Besides, I think we both know you like a little danger. Why else would a classy girl like you be slumming it in a shithole like this?"

He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke in your direction with a smug smirk. "Face it, babygirl, you're drawn to me. The bad boy mystique, I get it. But I'm the one in control here. And right now, I wanna see more of that smokin’ hot body..." He grabs your wrist and yanks you closer to him in the pool.

You instinctively try to tug yourself away, but his grip is too strong. Being this close to him does things to you that you’d rather not come to terms with, but he forces you to.

“Jesus, you’re filthy!” You exclaim, and pray he doesn’t notice the way your thighs squeeze together below the water. “Gimme my cigarette,” You hiss, hoping to change the subject and ignore the rest of it all.

He leans in closer, face inches from yours as he takes another drag. "Filthy is kinda my thing, sweetheart," His blue eyes bore into yours, voice low and tempting. "And trust me, I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching."

Slowly, he brings the lit cigarette to your lush lips, tracing them teasingly. "Want a taste?" He purrs, pressing his body against yours in the cool water. "Or are you too much of a good girl to indulge in a little sin?"

You can’t help the way your chest heaves as your arousal grows, and what’s worse, you can’t avoid Anakin knowing, the small distance between you causing your tits to brush against his chest with every heavy breath. His words are dangerously persuasive, and his eyes only emphasize it all.

But you remember yourself, the good girl you are, the smart girl you are, and find a way around his teasing in more ways than one.

Your tongue slides out seductively, catches his eye, and the end of the cigarette. The wetness of your tongue allows you to pull it between your lips, steal a drag and blow it right back into his face. You slide it to the side of your mouth to speak, hoping your voice comes out stronger than it feels. “Don’t you already got a toy waitin’ to be attacked?”

"Oh I got plenty of toys," He smirks, undeterred as the smoke billows around you. "But you're a whole new level of fun, baby.”

His hands slide down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush against his. You can feel his hardening length pressing against you through his soaked jeans. "Forget about my other girls. Right now, it's all about you and me," He growls, nipping at your ear. It’s disgusting, but it’s intoxicating, enough for you not to notice you were giving in.

Abruptly, he stands up, scooping you into his arms. "Let's take this inside where we can have some real fun, shall we?" He carries you towards your trailer, ignoring your protests. "Unless you'd rather I fuck you right here where everyone can watch..."

You let out a shaky exhale at his filthy suggestion of exhibition, and mentally curse yourself.

Your hands grip the sides of the trailer door, legs subconsciously tightly clung around his waist to keep yourself up. The two of you are dripping on the concrete steps, your nipples are hard and poking through the fabric of your bikini top, both due to the change of temperature and your arousal.

“My mom… she’s inside. She’ll beat your ass, Skywalker,” You say, still trying your best to resist, despite its growing futility. You won’t be one of those girls that Anakin Skywalker gets the best of so easily. Even if the feeling of his rising erection against your own sex is making your mind swim. “You’re older’n she is.”

"Pfft, your mom's a sweet lady. Barely a challenge," He laughs as he kicks the door open, strolling into the trailer with you still around his waist. The familiar scent of old newspapers and stale cooking greets you.

Anakin’s eyes roam the cluttered space, and spot your mother sitting in the only comfy chair. She looks up at the two of you, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, Patty," He calls out, tossing you onto the only clear space on the couch without even bothering to look. "Got a little present for you."

She huffs and shakes her head, barely amused.

"Mind your manners, Anakin," she admonishes. He winks at her before striding over, topless and wet, settling onto the arm of her chair.

"Y’all got any vodka, Pats? I sure could use a shot to cool off," He asks, smirking over at you, his gaze hot and hungry, unphased by your mother relaxing right beside him.

Your shocked eyes shoot daggers in Anakin’s direction the whole time, pissed at the way he spoke to your mother so casually, pissed at his boldness, pissed at your mother for allowing it, and pissed at yourself for finding him so goddamn sexy for it. You let out an angry grumble under your breath, snatching a towel from the laundry piled beside you on the couch and wrapping it around yourself, finally somewhat shielded from his predatory gaze.

“‘Course we got vodka. Don’t waste my time asking me stupid questions, Skywalker.” Your mother snaps at him in that calm, motherly way, and now your infuriated gaze is aimed at her. Since when were they so friendly with each other?

“And that little present better be a fresh ounce of pot, not my half-naked daughter.” She drawls, practically paying him no mind, eyes set on the TV. That explains it.

“Anakin,” You cut before he can speak again, voice sharp. “Don’t you have a guest, and vodka in your own home?” You say, making your way to the kitchen to fix your own drink. You’d need it if this was how the rest of the day would go.

He chuckles at you, and turns back to your mother with a taunting smirk, "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm fresh out. I'll make it up to ya though, promise."

Patty rolls her eyes, but Anakin can see the glint of amusement in them.

"Just ‘cause I'm her mama don’t mean I cain't recognize a lustful look when I see one," she addresses him, referring to her daughter. "You oughtta keep an eye on her, Ani. Seems like she can't stay away," She teases, puffing on her cigarette.

"Oh, I'm workin’ on it," He says, eyes meeting yours. There's a challenge in his voice, daring you to deny him—or worse, wanting you to.

You get the vodka and grab two glasses, pouring the clear liquid and watering it down. The ice clinks loudly as you return from the kitchen. Anakin watches your every move, his cock hardening again, the scent of your arousal lingering.

You set the drinks down on the cluttered coffee table, grabbing your drink and leaving Anakin to fetch his own. Your face grimaces when you notice what you’re pretty sure is an erection forming in his wet pants again. What an old creep. But you wonder what it looks like.

“Have fun with Patty, Anakin,” You tease, walking down the hall toward your bedroom with your drink.

Your mother shakes her head in amusement as Anakin follows you down the hall.

"Hey now, don't go teasin’ a grown man like that," He calls out, quickly grabbing his own drink and following you to your bedroom.

He leans against the doorframe, watching hungrily as you turn to face him. The vodka burns going down, fueling the fire in his veins and his eyes. "Why don’t you sit that purty little ass down on the bed and we’ll talk about why a good girl like you is looking at me like that," he takes a step closer.

The flush in your cheeks derives from a combination of frustration and arousal that’s gone on much too long, and you’d had about enough of. Anakin had a big mouth, but he was little more than a tease. You were barely more than half his age, and he seemed to be all bark and no bite, just having fun trying to get a rise out of the little girl in the trailer next door.

You down most of your vodka, the burning in your body beginning to mirror his. The sexual tension was palpable between you, but you were starting to think he didn’t really have the intention to quench it.

“Make me.”

A low growl escapes him at your defiance. With a sudden burst, he’s on you, crowding you against the closed door. "I'll make you, alright. I'll make you beg, babydoll," He promises, lips brushing against your ear.

Suddenly, he catches your mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue dances with yours, seeking and finding entry to explore the depths of your mouth. His hand slides up under the towel to squeeze your breast, finger rolling over your nipple.

Anakin tastes like vodka, beer & cigarettes, so filthy, so deviant, so wonderfully intoxicating against your mouth. It’s hard to hold back your moans as his quick hand touches you, but you do your best, knowing your mother was only down the hall.

Your hand searches wildly behind you for the doorknob, the two of you bursting through the door and into the bedroom. You manage to break away from him and take a few steps back, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you take in the sight before you.

Those blue eyes, wrinkles formed at the corners, that evil smirk on his mouth, that muscular, tattooed chest still dripping from the pool, the erection straining against his pants. You set your glass down on the dresser and wonder how you ended up here, with this filthy, disgusting, irresistible old man standing in your bedroom, ready to wreck you, bikini bottoms growing sticky over it.

He stalks towards you, eyes burning with lust. "Still trying to play hard to get?" He backs you up until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. "I think we both know how badly you been wantin’ this."

His hands make quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside to palm your soft breasts. The grin that rises across his face is almost sickening, like a devious child that had just opened a gift and found it filled with fireworks. The way it lights you up is sicker.

Leaning down, he runs his tongue over one pert nipple before drawing it into his mouth to suck hard, groaning at the taste of your skin. This time you can’t help a moan from breaking past your lips as his mouth assaults your breast.

His other hand slides into your bottoms, calloused fingers stroking your slick folds. “Fuck. You're wet as hell," He mumbles, more to himself than to you, pressing two fingers inside your tight heat.

You’re already seeing stars as his thick, expert fingers work their magic on you, roughly stroking every sensitive, gushy spot. Your hand rushes up to cover your mouth and hold back my pathetic sounds as you unravel.

His fingers thrust into your pussy, his thumb rubbing messily against your clit, ruthless in his pursuit of your pleasure. "Tell me you want this," he demands, nipping at your neck as his fingers work on your clit, steadily building your arousal. "Tell me you want Anakin Skywalker to fuck you into these sheets."

His cock strains so hard against his jeans, the sound of the denim creaks as it stretches under the weight. He wants to see you squirm and beg, desperate for his release, desperate for the release he promises to give you. The filthy, experienced older man teaching you the best sex of your young life.

You can’t resist anymore, not with his fingers inside you, driving you wild. Already he’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced; pleasure clouds your mind, makes you forget everything except how badly you want him.

You breathe heavily as you work up the words he demands, small whimpers leaving your throat as you try to speak. “A-Anakin,” a sharp exhale, then a gasp, then a whimper. “I want you.”

A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face as your needy plea reaches his ears. "That's what I like to hear, baby girl," He purrs, withdrawing his fingers and making quick work of his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free, hard and heavy, piercing glinting in the low light.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. It’s a reaction you would’ve stifled if you were in your right mind, but had no capacity to hide right now. His cock was thick, and pierced, unequivocally like nothing you’d ever seen before. It seemed downright heavy. It was hypnotizing.

"Get on the bed and spread those legs," He commands, giving his cock a few pumps as he watches you. "Time to show ya what a real man feels like."

Unintentionally, you ignore his command, closing the distance between you and dropping to your knees before him. It’s even thicker up close, plain intimidating, but you can’t stop your tongue falling wide out of your mouth to taste him, painting the underside of his cock head with your drool.

He grunts as your tongue laps at his cock, one hand shooting down to twine in your hair. "Ah fuck, yeah," He sighs, helping your head bob on his dick. "Good girl, take it just like that, get it nice and wet for that tight little cunt."

The stretch in your jaw is substantial, and it turns you on to no end, struggling to take his thickness down. He tastes like metal and sweat and it’s so good.

The piercing catches on your bottom lip and he hisses in pleasure, grip tightening in your hair. "Goddamn, girl, that mouth is good. Gonna make me bust down your throat if you keep that up."

But he wants more. Needs to feel your cunt gripping him, sucking him in. With heavy reluctance, he pulls your head back and tugs you to your feet, all but throwing you on the bed.

"On your hands and knees, babydoll. Ass in the air," he demands, giving your ass a sharp smack. "Time to put that pussy to work."

You whimper at the sharp sting on your ass, shocked at the way it sends surges through you.

This time you obey his commands, turning onto your hands and knees, naturally arching your back in a way that draws Anakin in like a moth to a flame, giving him a prime view of your curves and holes, hearing him shudder and cuss behind you.

You bury your face in the mattress to conceal your whines at the coldness of his piercing teasing your clitoris as he slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, pussy clenching in anticipation of the stretch he was gonna give.

"Hope you're ready, baby, cause I ain’t gonna be gentle,” He warns, wrangling your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pushes into your entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, and the sound in the room is immediately obscene, your screeching into the mattress at the brutal stretch, his groaning and fussing over your tight heat, the rhythmic beat of his hips slapping against your ass.

"Take it, you lil’ tease. This is what you want, ain’t it? To be split open on my big cock?" He reaches around to fondle your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples as he rails you.

“Ahh, fuck!” You cry into the mattress, the magnificent assault on your cunt rapidly reeling you toward your orgasm. Anakin was incredible; huge, relentless, stretching you wide and filling you to the brim. He fucked you like he invented sex, metal of his piercing stimulating that sensitive spot deep inside you with each perfect snap of his hips.

He groans as your pussy clenches around him, grip on your hips tightening, undoubtedly leaving bruises. "Fuck, you feel good wrapped around my cock." He moans, thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. "Gonna fill this tight cunt up, make you fucking mine-” Not a promise, but a prayer. You can feel him getting close, twitching inside you, pounding into you faster and ramming into that deep, spongey spot.

His hand snakes down to rub tight circles on your clit, rapidly reeling you toward the edge. "Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you milk me," He commands, slamming into you one last time before he stills, grinding his hips against you with a deep growl, spilling rope after creamy rope of his seed deep inside you, forcing you hollering, trembling, & convulsing through your orgasm.

“Fuck, yeah,” you hear from behind you, a weak, high pitched moan escaping your throat as you feel the flood. The sensation quenches a deep thirst you’d waited too long to address.

Your poor cunt aches in the sweetest way as he pulls out, stings as he spreads your cheeks to gawk at his seed leaking from your hole.

"Look at that,” He drawls, slowly dragging his fingers through the mess and pushing it back inside. “So fucking hot.”

He gives your ass a wet kiss, jiggles the fat in his hand, and then flips you over onto your back, settling between your legs. "Think you can handle round two, little girl?" He asks, cock already hardening again at the sight of you debauched on the sheets beneath him, cum painting your thighs.

The feeling of Anakin’s cock hardening on your stomach makes your heart rate pick back up. It’s a little frightening: wasn’t it unusual for any man, let alone a man of his age, to snap back so quickly?

In your short moment of lucidity, you begin to worry. Anakin had fucked you without a condom, cum inside you, and now dared to do it again. The last thing this man needed was to knock up some young girl, and the last thing you needed was to be knocked up by the seedy old man in the trailer next to yours, but that’s right where y’all were headed.

But your brain is wiped when his hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump, and you’ve lost the will to care all over again. Filled with his cum, threat of having this scrub’s baby over your head, and you don’t care. Poor cunt pathetically swollen and throbbing from the first round, but you don’t care. You want him again and again.

You can’t muster the words, all good sense fucked right out of you, so instead you look deep into his beautiful blues and nod with a pleading look in your own eyes.

He grins wickedly, cock twitching against your stomach at your agreement. "I knew you’d be a good one," He praises, positioning himself at your entrance once more. With a gentle push of his hips, he’s sinking back into your pussy, groaning at the feeling of his cum squelching around his shaft.

His lips find your neck, biting and sucking as he finds a pace, headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. "Gonna ruin this little pussy," He swears, hand tightening around your throat.

"Gonna make you mine, fuck, my own personal little cocksleeve."

His hand on your throat heightens your pleasure and leaves you seeing stars, both from the pleasure and the constriction on your oxygen. The new position allows you to see him, that beautiful face, his robust body, the way his abs flex as his hips snap into yours. From this position he can see your tits bounce as he pounds into you, the way your eyes roll back as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

Anakin slides in and out of your cunt with ease, thrusts lubed with his lingering cum spilling around you. It’s obscene, but so, so good.

“Ah, Ani,” your legs wrap tight around his waist, hold him deep inside you, nails dig into his back. “F-fuck you feel so good,” you gasp.

"Fuck yes, take it, take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

He releases your throat to grab your hips, angling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you with each pass. "Gonna fill this pussy up over and over, make sure my cum takes. You'll be swollen with my seed, doll. Round with my baby. Fuck, the thought of you, all knocked up, tits leaking, begging for more..."

He can feel his release building, balls drawing up tight, full and heavy with another load.

The flood of air, his filthy fantasies, his fucking expert cock driving into your raw, freshly-fucked cunt with otherworldly precision leaves your ears ringing as your orgasm rips through you. The entire world fades into black, tears prick at your eyes, electric contractions take over your whole being. And when you come back to the light, you’re begging.

“Fuck, Ani,” You squeak, “Please, please, please, cum inside me,” You plead, hijacked by a sudden desperation for the older man’s baby.

His eyes darken at your desperate plea, teeth grit as he feels his own orgasm ready to burst. "Fuck yes, gonna pump you full of my cum, make you fucking drip with it," He pants, hips stuttering as he erupts. "Fucking take it, take it all, just like that," He rambles, grinding his hips as he empties himself inside you.

Finally spent, he collapses on top of you, cock still twitching in your heat.

Your legs are shaking, pussy clenching at the aftershocks, overflowing your shared fluids. Your vision is blurry, throat parched, completely and positively wrecked. Strained sighs echo out of you, chest rising and falling heavily, pressing your bare breasts into his chest.

He presses sloppy kisses along your neck, your collarbone, tasting the sweat on your skin. "Goddamn, baby girl, that was intense.” He sighs.

“You’re tellin’ me,” You breathe out. “I can barely see.” You confess with a lazy smile, still yet to fully come back to your mind. You let out a pained sigh as you try to adjust under his weight, needing to stretch and soothe your sore limbs.

With a grunt, he rolls off of you, cock slipping from your abused hole with a wet sound.

"You did good, baby. Took my cock like a champ," He praises, running his fingers over your hair. "But don't think we're done yet. As soon as I'm hard again, I'm gonna flip you over and take you from behind. Fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

He leans in, eyes carefully observing you, and captures your lips in a filthy kiss.

"Gonna keep you in this bed all fucking night.”

You let out a heavy breath as you adjust to lay on your side, facing Anakin, placing a hand over his colorful chest. “I don’t know how you do it, old man. Even most men my age can barely cum twice, let alone be waiting for the next round after that,” You laugh, eyes lit up bright in your post-orgasm glow.

Anakin laughs too, and it’s nice. Unlike his usual laughter, snide and sarcastic, but honest.

His hand finds your ass and gives it a firm squeeze. "Years of practice, sweetheart.” In truth, the thought of you, young and eager, so responsive to his touch, is enough to keep him hard and ready. "Besides, I got a lot of lost time to make up for. Gotta make sure I ruin you properly, make it so no other man can ever satisfy you like I can."

He rolls on top of you once more, half-hard cock nestling against your thigh, resuming the feather-light kisses on your neck. "Ready for round three, baby girl? Gonna fuck this pussy so good, you'll be feeling me for weeks.”

The sound you let out is a mix of a sigh, a laugh, a moan, demonstrating your blissful exhaustion. “I don’t think I can take another round, Skywalker. I’m swollen enough as is.” You grip his biceps, resisting the urge to take his cock in your hand. He’s too fun to play with, but you can’t take the risk of turning him all the way on again, not when your cunt was already beginning to ache.

He groans at your rejection, cock jumping against your thigh. "You sure, doll? I'm not nearly done with this sweet little cunt," He mumbles pitifully into your neck.

But he can hear the exhaustion in your voice, feel the way your body trembles beneath him. Reluctantly, he rolls off of you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Alright, baby girl, you win. But don't think for a second that this is over. I'll have you again soon enough."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss, tongue lazily tangling with yours.

You moan into his mouth, gripping his bicep to ground yourself. One of your legs lifts to drape across his hips, pulling yourself in close to him. You were beginning to like the feeling of being held in his arms. It was ironic how such a dangerous, predatory man had managed to make you feel so safe.

You pull away to speak, eyes falling to the mattress. “I don’t really want you to go yet,” You admit quietly. You fought him for a long while, and now, like a stupid little girl, you didn’t want to let go.

He smiles at your confession, hand running soothing patterns on your back. "Didn't think you would, baby girl.”

Carefully, he gathers you into his arms, rolling onto his back and pulling you to lie on his chest. "Rest for a bit. Let me hold you," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's a rare moment of tenderness from him, but something about you brings it out.

You crane your neck up to look at Anakin from where you lie on his chest.

With the late afternoon light peeking through the window, his eyes are illuminated. He’s breathtaking, showcasing the experienced he’d gained over the years, but also maintaining his youth. You still hardly knew the man, up until now he’d only been your annoying neighbor, but… He wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sweet, even. It made your heart melt. Who knew Anakin Skywalker was like this behind closed doors?

You reach over him to the nightstand to grab a cigarette. As the buzz envelopes your brain and my body, you sink into Anakin’s arms without a care in the world, kissing the colors dancing across his chest. Let this old man wreck you.

He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of your curves, the sheen of sweat on your skin. You look thoroughly fucked out, debauched, and it's a sight he could get used to.

His fingers trace idle patterns on your back as you relax against him. He kisses your head again, repeating the uncanny, saccharine gesture, breathing in the scent of sex and nicotine.

Your brain reminds you of something Anakin had said earlier, in the midst of his pursuit.

“D’you really think I’m living here for fun? Cause I like danger and bad boys?” You ask him with a laugh, voice thick, low, seductive with your exhaustion.

Anakin chuckles, sound rumbling through his chest. "Baby, I don't care why you're here. All that matters is that you are," he says, a hand sliding down to grab your ass. "Couldn't ask for a better view’n watchin’ you prance around in them tiny little bikinis.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he grips you, jiggles you, pulls you closer. “Fuck, the things I’ve imagined doing to you…”

A small smile tugs at your lips, as a mixture of excitement, but also disappointment, courses through you at his words. You didn’t really expect him to actually care but… you didn’t think he’d be that blatant about it, fresh after fucking you. He doesn’t actually think about you, he doesn’t actually want to know you. You were a toy to him. And it… hurt. And you didn’t know what to make of that, yet. Where once there was a warmth fueled by laying beside him, there quickly became an emptiness.

You had to remind yourself Anakin was no good, he’d probably make a terrible partner realistically, and you knew this. But it never feels good to be actually sexually objectified. Although, objectively…. having sex with Anakin felt really good.

Here, with Anakin, lay the newest dilemma in your mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sure you’ve imagined more than enough to keep me busy,” You say as you start to sit up, giving Anakin a long kiss on the cheek, before clearing your throat. “I should really get cleaned up.”

He frowns, hand tightening reflexively on your hip. "Stay," he urges, almost angrily, in a tone that makes your heart freeze, ready to jump into fight or flight, waiting for the moment his characteristic sourness is turned toward you.

But Anakin just doesn’t like the feeling of you leaving, even if it's just to the bathroom.

But he notices the distant look in your eyes, the way you're already pulling away from him emotionally.

Fuck, he thinks. I should've known it was too good to be true, that a girl like you wouldn't stick around for a washed-up old ex-con like me.

He calls your name, voice softer than he’d ever heard it himself. "Don't go. Stay with me, just a little longer."

Your eyebrows knit together as Anakin’s soft tone takes you off guard, the way he nearly pleads with you to stay. It’s uncanny, but the way it makes your heart ache is even worse. He was starting to be a true mystery. “Um, okay,” you whisper, somewhat softening back into his side, heart still racing as you toe the line between danger and safety, dangerously thin in Anakin’s presence.

Still marinating in your confusion, something makes you take his arm and pull it close over you, gently stroking his skin. It was as if something reached out & told you he needed the comfort.

You lay there together for a while, holding each other in silence, feeling each other out. It’s nice, being in the arms of a strong, older man. Especially Anakin’s. You find solace there, you have to admit. You think he must have, too. You had to practically tear him off you and throw him out the door to get him to go home.

And as soon as the door shut behind him, you were wrecked, like a piece of your heart had walked out with him. But you held it together. Anakin was surely not the kind of man who wanted a little girl clinging to him every minute. You would be patient until you saw him again.

The door clicks shut behind me as I step out into the fading evening light. I can still feel the lingering warmth of your skin on mine, the soft curves of your body imprinted on my memory. Fuck, I didn't want to leave. Didn't want to let you go.

But I knew I had to. Couldn't let myself get too attached, too vulnerable. You were a kid, barely more than a baby, and I was a fucking mess. A criminal, a drunk, a man with a past so dark it would break you if you knew the half of it.

So I forced myself to walk away, each step an act of willpower I didn't have.

from @mirrorpalais on ig . “drop 1 of our newest collection ‘sogni d’oro’ is now available for pre order.”

every time i see your pfp it makes me giggle, thank you for always showing up in my notifs <3

love ur work thanks for always updating 🫶❤️

(ps that profile pic is my absolute fave photo of him lmao)

so handsome

a hug like this from him would cure me

his accent was so bad in this movie but look how pretty he is :(

Hey guys everything hurts in my body I think I'm dying

(Credit to @ r2dahlia on TikTok)

he's so pretty <333

Oh- now this is hot🤭

anakin skywalker™

- pretty baby by @luxtrys

- his best girl by @little-miss-vader

- a hundred and ten percent ready by @luxtrys

- teacher’s pet by @s-brant

- good resolutions by @spacesurfing

- love sick by @altieris

- 1-800-bang your godfather by @coryosbaby

- a place in the sea of stars by @pasukiyo

- so the prophecy says by @ohcaptains

- secretly a freak by @interloved

- cherry on top by @coryosbaby

- be mean to me by deleted acc

- forgive me by deleted acc

- how he really is by deleted acc

- his favorite student by @slutforfinnickodair (hayden)

- playground by @cillivnz (sam)

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN + SIENNA MILLER - FACTORY GIRL [2006]

queen, I don't know where the actual request went but I have this!

@readyourmindlover "hi queen i saw your post to request hayden/ his character stuff. can you please do arguing with anakin or clay like over something petty which leads smut pls 😭😭 and add fluff of course."

thank you for the request, babes! I hope this is to your liking! i've never written before, much less smut so let's hope for the best 😭 also I'm sorry it took so long!

drowning on dry land | clay beresford x afab!reader

summary: reader gets angry with clay for having to babysit him when he isn't mindful of his own health, he makes it up to her by proving how long he can hold his breath in between her legs.

content warnings: DDDNE! poorly written (can you tell I'm a virgin 😍), no y/n, established relationship (both clay and reader are 22yo), smut (no penetrative sex), hickeys, use of pet names, fingering, oral sex (clay and reader receiving), praise, mentions of clay's health, inaccurate medical info, brief mentions of death, lowkey sad and you might cry cause I did, fluff, TW!sam, different timeline from the film, makeup sex, kinda angsty

wc: 3.6k (oops)

mdni 18+

you shouldn't need to tell clay not to skip his medication. you shouldn't need to tell him to take it easy. you shouldn't need to babysit him. he's a grown man. it's his health at stake here, so you'd think he would have a little concern if his heart failed and he dropped dead in the middle of his office. but even your own healthy heart can't help but to beat rapidly or fall to the pit of your stomach at the thought of clay not being around. so what do you do? you fill your calendar with the dates and times of all his doctor's appointments. you stay aware of when he's due for a refill of his digoxin or labetalol. you do breathing exercises in tandem with him as he sits on the porch steps to catch his breath. why do you do it? because you love him. because you were able to get him to love you back, despite his reputation for being cold and heartless. even after he went to hell and back for his ex, sam, who would only go to great lengths for his checkbook.

now you're driving clay back from his cardiologist appointment, during which he didn't seem to care about anything that was said, including the fact that he's well on his way to a new heart. you turn to look at him and sigh, "so you're not even the tiniest bit excited about being pushed to the top of the list? that means you might get a heart soon, clay." he glances at you before returning his attention to the road, speaking with a hint of annoyance, "yeah, I know what it means." you slow the car down, pulling to the side of the road and turn to him, "okay, what's the matter with you? why don't you care about any of this? why do I need to babysit you and take care of everything when you don't even care about yourself? you skip your meds, you push yourself too hard, you forget more than half of your appointments, and when you do remember them, you don't even pay attention to anything they say. do you have a death wish or something?" he turns his gaze to the window and mutters something under his breath about how he's "22 years old and shouldn't need to be dealing with this shit."

you throw your head into your hands, willing yourself not to cry out of frustration, and turn to grab his jaw to look at you. "well that may be true, but this is still reality, and acting like it isn't happening isn't going to make it go away. so you need to grow up and start showing some concern for yourself, clay, because it can't just be me. you can't leave me." you feel the lump in your throat begin to form as you get teary eyed, but maybe this will show him how much it hurts you for him to be so careless.

you're hoping he'll finally wake up and see his behavior doesn't just affect him and how upside down your world would turn if anything happened to him, as selfish as that may sound. "this isn't just your life anymore, clay, it's ours. I do everything I do for you. I'm not sam. I'm not your enemy. I don't care about your money, I care about you," and by this point, you're full on sobbing. "if anything ever happened to you, clay," you turn away from him, returning your hands to your face, shaking your head in disbelief at the possibility of him being anywhere that isn't with you.

the guilt begins to eat at him with every gasp and sob that escapes you. "why is it that I care more about you than you do? why don't you care, clay? why are you letting yourself slip right through my fingers?" and finally, it all hits him. he doesn't even know what to say and "I'm sorry" doesn't seem like it would help much, so he leans over the console to remove your hands off your face, holding it in his own. he looks at you, really looks at you.

you can barely make eye contact with him, but it doesn't matter when he pulls you in and catches your lips in a desperate, apologetic kiss. it almost felt as if he was expressing all of his guilt between your connected lips. a promise to change his ways and to stop hurting you the way he has been. this kiss said everything he didn't know how and the words you left unspoken. he pulls away to scan your face, wiping the remainder of wetness from your tear stained cheeks. at some point, he finds the words to say, even though they get trapped in his throat on the way out. "I-I'm so in love with you. I am. I'm so so sorry, baby, you don't know how sorry I am. I just don-didn't want to accept this fate. that I'm sick and might not even live to be 23...that I might never get to see you or feel your touch or kiss you again. it made it easier to just ignore all of it. but I am devoted to you. I wouldn't dream of leaving you, at any cost." now it's your turn to be at a loss for words, but you both need each other now more than ever. so you find your voice, however cracked and strained it may be, "I love you. god I love you so much, clay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is happening to you, but baby, they're going to have a heart for you. have faith in that. in yourself. I'll never let anything or anyone take you from me. if you die, I die." the words escape you, with sobs and sniffles in between each one, as you take a firm hold of his face. he leans in for another kiss, not knowing another way to say everything to you while saying nothing at all, besides "let's go home, my love. let me show you how devoted I am to you."

you continue your ride back home, but now with more eagerness and speed — a change of pace from the slow, tense drive you endured earlier. as soon as you arrive in the driveway of your shared apartment, clay is quick to unbuckle both seatbelts and swiftly bring you over the console and onto his lap. you continue where you left off, enveloping his lips in a passionate kiss with more fervor than you're both used to. clay explores your body skillfully and attentively, the warmth of his hands a nice contrast to his usual cold touch. you're normally the first to break your kisses, knowing clay is too stubborn to stop for air, so you break the seal and linger your lips over his till he catches his breath. the warm air fanning from your mouth tempts him to just suffocate with his lips on yours, but he knows you'd never let him. instead, he moves his plump lips to attack your neck and jaw in wet, sloppy kisses, gently nipping at your soft skin occasionally. you lean your head to one side, granting him more access. he continues his assault, targeting your sweet spot, sucking and licking the pulsating region, branding you with the mark of his mouth. he groans as you tug his dirty blonde locks, feeling his heart flutter and cock twitch at the sound of your whimpers.

he wills himself to pull back from your neck and taps your thigh, "let's move this inside. we're gonna need more room if I'm gonna have my way with you." the lustful tone in his voice has your heart racing in excitement, and for a moment, you think your heart might stop. ironic, isn't it? nonetheless, you open the passenger door and remove yourself off his lap, not before pecking his lips. grabbing his hands, you pull him out of his seat as you both chuckle. in his arms, you're back home, being able to laugh with each other again without the underlying stress and tension. for a moment, you can both breathe each other's air, unrestricted.

you and clay make your way to your front door, hand in hand, his breaths sounding labored from the short trip up the stairs. you unlock the door with a little more urgency so he can sit down. you're hot on his trail after locking the door behind you, following him to the couch and sitting on your knees in front of him. "are you alright? what do you need?" you press, his wellbeing on the forefront of your mind. he shakes his head at your concern, taking hold of your hands and bringing them to his chest to feel his heartbeat. "I'm okay. I'm so okay, more than okay. I just need you." as long as you've been together, he never fails to make you feel flustered. you nod quickly at him in agreement.

you would never push him past his limits, but lord knows you're desperately horny and your panties couldn't get any more soaked than they are right now. "I need you, too. I haven't had you in the way I've needed in a long time." and you know he knows exactly what you're talking about because he feels it too. with his condition and all the appointments you've both been so busy with, not to mention the tension you both refused to acknowledge slowly putting a brick wall between you two. he knows what you need and he knows just the way to give it to you.

"you're always taking care of me, making sure I'm okay. now it's my turn to do the same for you." he speaks as he gets off the couch and pulls you up off the floor. the nervous excitement pools right at your core, not having been touched by him since a time you can't even remember. he holds your delicate face, committing every detail and feature to memory, and kisses you. much softer than the ones before. he wants to take his time with you. to savor every second with you like it's the last, although you both hope that's never the case. your plump lips move perfectly against his, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. he makes his way down your neck, leaving a gentle peck on his mark from your shared moment earlier. he holds your waist, bringing your body closer, and tugs at the hem of your shirt. he asks for consent each and every time, no matter how many times you've been together. you've always been drawn to what a gentleman he is. you nod, giving him permission to strip you undressed, down to the last article of clothing. his lips move down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I missed this body so much, princess." he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking on the now hardened nub while he fondles the other in between the soft pads of his fingers. you let out a whimper and he groans, loving how responsive and vocal you always are for him.

now he's got you laid on the couch, all spread out and exposed for him. he sits in front of you on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders as he expertly maneuvers his tongue through your wet folds. you always did love how skillful his mouth is at everything — negotiating business, persuading donors, and definitely when it was ravaging your pussy like it is now. his tongue explored your cunt like he was stranded on a desert and the pooling liquid at your entrance was his only salvation. "you taste so good, baby. always dripping for me." your inner thighs and his lips glisten in the light, both now covered in your slick. you buck your hips against his mouth as he wraps his plump, soft lips around your clit. throwing your hands into his hair, you tug at the ends, causing him to moan out at the same time as you.

no one would ever guess that the usually put together businessman loves to lose his composure in between your legs, with you ruining his slicked back hair and making a mess of his face. you whine out as he inserts a finger into you, then another, thrusting them in and out as his mouth continues to relentlessly drink you up. "you're so good for me, clay...I love your mouth so much."

as lost as you are in the pleasure, you realize at some point he needs to come up for air when you hear his panting. "clay, slow down, baby...come up, you need to breathe." you paw at his hair and face, willing him to look up at you, but he insists on suffocating between your legs. "clay, come on, don't do this." his grip around your thighs tightens, almost asking you to stop begging him to stop.

his mouth explores you only the way he knows how and the coil in your stomach begins to tighten, waiting to unravel. you see the glimmer of the layer of sweat on his forehead and you use whatever strength you have to pull his face up and away from you, even though the loss of contact makes you whimper. "why'd you make me stop?" he says breathlessly as he licks the remainder of your pleasure from his mouth. you exhale a sigh of both relief and disbelief at him. "you could've stopped breathing. your heart could've stopped, clay, that's why." if your earlier conversation meant anything, he should know not to push himself. "you taste so good, I can't help myself. I could die in this pussy." you roll your eyes, not in pleasure this time, but at how he manages to make you wet even in his stubborn ways.

he returns to devouring you so suddenly, you gasp at the sudden feeling of his warm tongue on your sensitive nub. the coil in your abdomen returns to you just as quickly as it faded, finally ready for release. "oh god, clay...fuck, I'm gonna cum!" the moan you let out was one the neighbors would file a complaint over, but you can't bring yourself to care when you look into a pair of shining blue eyes, already looking up at you. he grins into your cunt as your release decorates his mouth. he looks like an angel between your thighs, in contrast to the unholy deed he was doing. he laps at you feverishly, helping you ride the wave of your orgasm. he grins with his puffy lips, glistening with you all over them. you're ready to cum again at the sight of him greedily licking his fingers clean and wiping the remnants from his face into his mouth. "can't let a single drop go to waste."

you push yourself up on your elbows, still panting lightly, ready to return the favor. "that was probably the best one yet. now it's my turn to have my way with you." you lean up to kiss him, tasting some of yourself still on him. he wears a cheek splitting grin as you pull him up with you, pushing him into the previous spot you took on the couch. the fabric of the pants he still had on was ready to rip open with the pressure his hard cock was putting on them. you move to undo his belt, leaving sloppy kisses on his neck as you do so. you brand his neck in the same way he did yours and pull back to revel in your work. he rakes his hands through your hair while you work your way down to his happy trail, licking above his waistband before pulling it down with his help. clay's evidently painful cock springs out, making him breathe a sigh of relief. you were planning on teasing him a little, but you feel bad when you catch a glimpse of his furrowed brows and glossy eyes. he needs this just as badly as you do, so you scrap your original plan, intending to give him what he needs instead.

he bucks into your hand as you swipe at the precum on his tip before catching it between your lips, savoring the taste. you look intensely into his eyes and watch as lust and need begin to flood his irises. his body already feels like it's on fire as he feels your hands begin to work him. you reach back to your cunt, still pooling with your slick, collecting it to lubricate him. clay let's out a breathless, pleading whimper. "please, baby...I need more." he's nearly begging, and if he wasn't already on his knees for you earlier, he'd get down on them now. his voice is strained in his plea, and who were you to deny him this pleasure? "patience, my love... I'll give you what you want." you lean into him, whispering in his ear and nibbling his lobe as you stroke him at a slow pace. he shudders at the contact he's been desperate for, a moan escaping his lips as he throws his head back into the cushion. you take him into your mouth, making his eyes flutter at the warm, wet feeling. "oh god...fuck." he pulls in a gasp when you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head, his body writhing in pleasure. you feel your core clench around nothing at the sound of his groans, knowing he's putty in your hands.

you push yourself down his length as far as you can go, stroking what can't fit. his size always seems to impress you like it's your first time all over again. his hands find their way into your hair, pushing you down his length a little further. "c'mon, baby, you can take it. I know you can. you're such a good girl for me, with your lips wrapped around my cock." he moans out, trying to control his breathing. your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling his length bruise your throat, just as it should be. his mind is in a haze and full of you. you pull up off of him for air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his glistening cock.

you return yourself back to your rightful position — with your lips wrapped around his cock, mouth full and drooling, and unable to think about anything besides getting him his release. his breath comes in heavy pants and you watch him through hooded eyes, partly to take in his fucked out expression and partly to make sure he's alright. he can barely form a coherent sentence and his trembling legs signal to you he's on the precipice of breaking. he manages to find the words, praising you with sweet words between ragged breaths. "you're so good, baby...so perfect for me. you gonna let me fill that pretty mouth up?" to which you hum an affirmative response, the vibration giving him that last push over the edge. he tangles his hands in your hair once again, needing to ground himself to reality as waves of pleasure course through him. his head is thrown back and his mouth is agape, releasing near pornographic moans, and it takes everything not to have your second orgasm of the night just at the sound of him. you swallow every last drop of what he gives you, like the good girl he knows you are, as his hot cum spurts into your mouth.

he comes to, opening his eyes to find you smiling up, mouth coated in him. he leans in to lift you off the ground by your hips, seating you onto his lap. "I love you. I'm sorry for everything. for worrying you so much. I promise, I won't ever leave you. not without a fight." as you lean in to wrap your arms around him, the sound of a pager going off alerts you both. you push yourself off his lap in urgency, hoping for some good news. he looks to you, eyebrows raised, awaiting some clarity from you. "what is it? is it the hospital?" you look up from the pager and at clay with a teary eyed expression, nodding profusely. "baby, they have a heart...they have a heart for you, right now, tonight. you're getting a heart, clay!" he laughs, tears filling up his eyes as he darts off the couch to take you in his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you... I'm getting a heart. we'll finally get a clean slate." you grip him a little tighter, heart racing at his reassurance and the guarantee of a real future together — one without doctors or procedures or worrying if you'll have to let him go for good. you pull back to scan his face, caressing it to calm his nerves. "god, I love you so much...let's get you a new heart, clay."

he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, guiding you both back to sit on the couch. of course he's excited for his new heart, but he's in no rush just yet. "what are you doing? we need to get to the hospital." he nods in agreement, but makes no effort to get up. "and we will, soon enough. don't worry." his hands find your hips and rests your core right over his cock, moving you back and forth.

you spent half the night in each other's arms, finding yourselves connected in the most intimate way, and celebrating clay's new lease on life.

can i pet that dawg

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 1

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!!

[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4

Chapter 1: Kissing Practice

The August air was humid and thick, even though the sun had already set, and you could feel the sweat dripping down from your bike helmet to your forehead. You'd bet anything that the mosquitoes were out in full force, but you were speeding too fast on your bike to get caught by one of them. The hot wind whipped your face as you went downhill on the road toward your house, but you felt another breeze beside you. Your best friend, Anakin. He's a competitive little shit, has been since you were kids. Luckily, you're pretty competitive too. You pedaled faster, faster, faster, faster, jolting over the bumps where potholes were asphalted over and cracks in the road had worn deeper into the road. There's no sidewalk out here, just tall grass on either side of you.

Anakin let out an evil chuckle as he passed you, just barely, and you rolled your eyes and doubled down. He's gained on you, more than a little, and you thought you might just lose your bet. You looked to your right, trying to find a way to get just a little bit of an edge. When you turn right in a quarter of a mile, onto your street, you might gain just a half second on him. It could be enough to win. But as you looked at the street ahead of you, something caught your eye in the grass. Something moving.

You slammed down on the brakes, digging your worn sneakers into the ground as you skidded to a stop. You were planning to buy new ones next week, anyway. Anakin shot past you, racing ahead with a whoop of joy. He turned around to stick out his tongue at you, but saw you had stopped and were no longer focused on the road at all. He circled back to you, still panting from the race, and climbed off his bike to face you.

"What's up?" He turned to look at you, concerned and curious, but you were focused on something else entirely. In the tall grass, as the sun had set, fireflies had begun darting in between the stalks, peeking out slivers of their light. You hadn't realized how dark it had gotten on your way back from the gas station, but the stars were already out. It was a beautiful night, and you wished you could capture it, bottle it up and keep it on your shelf. A little slice of home, the last one you would have for a while. You vaguely registered that Anakin was saying something as you stared out at the fireflies, but you were just thinking about how you probably wouldn't see the stars like this, or fireflies at all, for a good while yet. The thought made your heart ache.

"Helloooo?" he singsonged, "Anyone there?" He waved a hand in front of your face, and you snapped out of it. You looked up at him, and he smiled that lopsided smile you knew like the back of your hand. 

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking," you replied somewhat absently.

"Well, let's get home, Socrates. These slurpees aren't getting any colder," he said, shaking the cup in his hand (Mountain Dew Freeze, his favorite) to make his point. 

"Fine, fine," you conceded, smirking. You saw your opportunity and got back on your bike. "Last one there has to do the dishes!" You put your foot on your pedal and pushed, getting your momentum started. He called out after you in protest as he scrambled onto his bike and tried to catch up, but it was too late. A quarter of a mile later, when you pulled into your street, and then turned onto your driveway, he was just a second behind you.

"No fair!! You cheater!" He yelled as you unclipped your helmet and did a little victory dance. You both dropped your bikes in the grass next to the driveway with a slightly concerning thump, then headed up the stairs to the front door. You opened the screen door with a creak--you should remind your parents to oil that hinge, you thought--then unlocked the front door. 

The AC hit your damp and sweaty faces with a delightful cool breeze, and you sighed in joy. Cold. Cold. Nice. Ani had always hated the heat, as did you. You were both winter kids, and your favorite activity was sledding. You'd been best friends since winter of third grade, when he and his mom had moved from Texas to your small Minnesota town, into the house right next door. Your moms became fast friends from the moment they were introduced, and Shmi's job as the school nurse meant she could drop you off and pick you up. Initially, you weren't sure what to think of him. He was a tiny little guy, way shorter than you, with freckles exploding all over his face. But then he smiled that lopsided grin of his which made his eyes crinkle, told you his name was Ani, and asked if there were any good hills around for sledding. Later, on the way back from school, he asked in a tiny voice if you'd go with him. Who were you to say no?

Your whole friendship was built with snow crusted on the tops of your boots and melted into your mittens. At the end of January in sixth grade, you had both spent the winter building up a pile of snow and digging out the inside to make a snow clubhouse (read: cave). The cold air burned the inside of your throats as you panted after the manual labor of digging for hours, but it was finally done. Once you had crawled through the entrance and sat on the hard snow, enveloped by the packed ice all around you, he looked you straight in your eyes and told you "our future house should be made of snow". Like he didn't change your life with that one little word. Our.

But you were just friends. Your heart would flutter sometimes, but it was all ignorable until tenth grade. After your birthday dinner with your family (which included Shmi and Ani, obviously), he slipped you a little box. When you opened it, the most silver necklace with a snowflake pendant winked out at you. Shmi told you later that it wasn't just silver, it was white gold, and incredibly expensive. That he had been saving up for a whole year to buy it for you. His gentle hands clasped it into place behind your neck, and you shivered when he put them on your shoulders. There, he said, perfect.

It wasn't so easy to ignore after that, but you managed. Through the summers working together at the park, the semesters in the same classes, and the afternoons playing games and doing homework, you got profoundly skilled at crushing your feelings deep, deep down.

And then Padme came along. And the idea of someone else seeing Ani's baby photos, or being loved by his mom, or kissing him absolutely killed you. Because you were friends. But that was all over now. It was just the two of you, as normal.

Now, you were both about to leave town, at least until Thanksgiving. One last family dinner, he said when he suggested it. When you both walked into your house, Shmi called out that dinner was on the table in two minutes, so you sucked up the rest of your slurpees so quickly your stomach got queasy.

The finality of it all almost escaped you. The little glances your parents cast to one another. Anakin's favorite mashed potatoes. Cake for dessert. The details were all whispering This is the end. Enjoy it while you can. Ani could tell something was off, too, and you kept shooting glances at one another. He tried to make you smile by bumping his legs into yours with a grin, like he did when you were little, but it didn't help. Once dinner was done, the adults went to have coffee in the living room, leaving Anakin to do the dishes. You dashed up to your room as soon as you could, trying to hold onto what little time you had left.

Half an hour later, the lamp by your bed cast a warm glow over the room, and you could hear the crickets through the window. You were laying on bed reading a book--some YA novel where you weren't really processing what was happening. Apocalypse? Love triangle?--when Ani finished the dishes and burst in. He didn't knock, of course. There wasn't any energy left in you to complain. You knew you'd miss him bursting into your room unannounced next week, and the week after that, and the week after. Would that longing ever fade?

"Well, I finished the dishes. You cheater," he joked as he sat down on the bed next to you. You sat up, your body complaining from your race earlier, and stuck your tongue out at him. You didn't have it in you to say more. The two of you sat in silence, his face turning slightly more concerned as he watched you stare off into space.

"You good? You've been off all night," he commented, bumping his shoulder against yours. You threw him a half-hearted smile as you fumbled with your snowflake pendant.

"Fine, yeah. Just... Tomorrow is a lot." You didn't want to tell him the truth, that you couldn't imagine your life without him in it, and that moving somewhere completely different would shatter your heart, so you didn't.

Anakin finally cracked a smile, and you wondered when the last time you had seen him not smile was. That lopsided grin practically never left his face, and it was infectious to see. "So you're scared, huh?" 

Always teasing you. But there was an undercurrent of sincerity there, buried deep. When you were younger, you had worried about if he'd still be your friend when others came around, and maybe he'd like them more than he liked you, but he stayed loyal to you. Even when Tommy Masterson in seventh grade said you were probably a bedwetter, Anakin not-so-subtly started a rumor that Tommy peed himself when he got too excited. (Granted, that rumor only gained traction because Anakin had splashed the kid's pants with apple juice after gym. And punched him. But you didn't hear about that until last year.)

"Yeah, I guess. Everything will be different and, well--making friends isn't super easy. I mean, real friends. Like you," you said. Anakin responded with just a thoughtful hmm, while his eyes, usually clear blue, were dark and stormy in the lamplight. His smile had faded just a bit, and he was looking downward. For a second, you thought he was looking at your lips with that intense look, but you shook the thought away. Friends. 

"I just, I don't know. I'm also worried about, well, oh fuck this is awkward to say out loud, dating, I guess?" You hadn't confessed that to anyone else. Anakin was silent, still boring into you with that look in his eye. The words came out like a river, filling in every gap of the silence between you. You kept messing with the snowflake pendant, like you always did when you were nervous. "I wish I had dated someone in high school. I haven't even kissed anyone, other than Alex in fucking freshman year during spin the bottle, so it wasn't even real, and I only went on a date with that one guy last year but we didn't even hold hands--what kind of cute college guy will want someone who hasn't even gotten to second base or hasn't actually kissed someone for real? I'm still a virgin. Am I just--" Anakin cut off your rambling with a soft "hey," and you expected him to say something else, but he just sat, silent.

"Sorry," you said, awkwardly. God, that was so cringe of you. You hated hearing about it when Anakin told you about his first kiss, and the first time he had gone a bit further with his girlfriend in sophomore year. Padme was so nice and cool and great, but you couldn't shake the unease in the pit of your stomach when you saw them holding hands. Or kissing. Or cuddling on the couch at a party. It was just being protective. That's what best friends do. Right? The other option was unthinkable.

"I could help," he said simply, like it wasn't anything serious. The words sat between you, the air heavy with his implication. Hope nestled in your chest, but you pushed it away. He probably meant he could set you up with one of the guys on the soccer team. He did claim that Isaiah had a crush on you, but the kid ate his own boogers until high school. Gross.

"I'm not going to date Isaiah. Or Kevin," you added. Kevin was even worse. You expected Anakin to laugh, dismiss the whole idea, but he kept that intense look in his eyes.

"What? Those losers? Nah... No, I mean, I could help you. We could... practice," he let out a tiny laugh, and your face fell, so he rushed to add, "Sorry. It's just. Feels funny to say. But I'm serious. We could. If you wanted." The breath left your chest. This isn't happening. It can't be. Then why were you deliriously happy? Why did you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss him? You searched his face for some tell that this was all some bit that he'd tease you for. Some joke that he took too far. But all you found was sincerity and earnestness. He wanted this. He was literally offering it. His suggestion sat between you, curling into your stomach and sending it churning and fluttering. Was he actually giving you butterflies? But if you kissed him, you'd ruin everything you had for years. You were going to say no. No. No. 

But why did that answer break your heart?

Shit. You had taken too long. You could see him crawling back into his shell, about to make some joke about how you had cooties or something, when you blurted out your answer. 

"Yes. I mean--sure. I need the practice, right?" You cringed. Real smooth. His eyes widened, and he smiled--a genuine smile, no teasing in it, just affection. You could still sense that intensity rolling off him like waves. 

"Okay," he said. This time, there wasn't any hiding the way his gaze flitted down to your lips. Anakin scooched closer to you with an awkward "um" as he tried to figure out how to navigate kissing his best friend. He suddenly wished there was a handbook, or a guide to tell him how to make this not awkward even though he wanted it so badly.

When his hand, still soft and warm from washing the dishes, his fingers wrinkled from the water, came up to touch your cheek, you had to suppress a surprised jump. Oh, God. This was real. His face was coming closer. This was happening. Holy fuck holy fuck holyfuckholyfuckholyfuckholyfuck

Then his lips met yours and your brain imploded. This was Anakin and you. You and Anakin. And holy fuck it felt so good. The rhythm of kissing was new to you--before, you'd only pecked Alex, and that was once, in front of half the graduating class. This was completely different. And terrifying. Anakin's mouth moved against you, and you gradually tried to mimic his movements. You felt his lips part just a bit wider, and, in your enthusiasm, you bumped your teeth together. Hard. Anakin grunted in pain, and, then, suddenly, he pulled away. Fuck. Was this it? Was that all you would get?

"OhmyGodareyouokay?" You blurted, your hands shooting up to cup his cheeks. He laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Looks like you needed the practice, though," he said as he cackled. Heat rushed into your cheeks, and you were sure you were as red as a tomato. You smacked his shoulder a few times, and then a few more times for good measure. 

"Asshole!" He was still smirking, but he was leaning back in. You hadn't scared him off, and you thanked every god you could think of. Soon, his lips were back on yours, and your heart rate went back into the triple digits. This time, his hand came up to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, so that your thighs were pressed up against each other.

As he kissed you again, you swore you grew ten times as many nerve endings in your lips. The kisses started out slow and soft, like they were the first time, but soon they grew hungry. Soon, you felt his tongue poke out and tease your lip, which produced an embarrassing whimper from you. He'd probably make fun of you later, and you couldn't care less. His free hand grabbed your legs by the knee and hoisted them up over his, so that you were nearly in his lap. The way your lips felt against each other was nothing short of sinful. If this is what kissing everyone felt like, you had been seriously missing out. However, you got the sense that this was something special. Guilt creeped into your thoughts. This was different for you than it was for him. Though you'd been denying it, you reasoned you probably had feelings for him. (You were actually utterly head-over-heels for him, but that wasn't something you were prepared to admit yet). Either way, you felt for a second like you were taking advantage of the situation. But he had offered, so you kissed him even harder to make the thoughts go away. God, his mouth felt good.

The kisses that had been hungry before were ravenous at this point, sloppy and drunk on each other. His warm, strong hand on your legs pulled you even closer, so that you were completely sitting on him, but the angle was a bit weird. You pulled away, just for a second, and he sloppily trailed kisses down your jaw and neck. You moaned loudly, not able to hide your response to the feeling of his tongue on your neck, teasing you in little circles in between kisses. You hitched one of your legs over him and straddled him. If he was going to escalate, so were you.

Now that you were on his lap, you had to lean down to kiss him, holding his face in your hands. His smooth cheek was feverish under your touch, and he was kissing you even more desperately than he was before, if that was even possible. You felt something on your thigh and--oh.

Oh. He was hard. Fuck, that was something else. You felt yourself getting even wetter, begging for some sort of touch. Fuck it. You took the risk, and you lowered your clothed pussy onto him. He wasn't just hard, he was rock hard. And big. When he felt your weight on him, he groaned into your mouth, not daring to break the kiss. You pulled away, just to make sure you weren't crossing some sort of poorly defined line. As if you guys had laid this out in detail beforehand.

"Is this okay?" You half-whispered, half-panted into his mouth. He mumbled a series of 'yes's and nodded fervently, going straight back to kissing you with his hands on your hips. Tentatively, you rolled your hips against him, and he grunted as he kept kissing you. The friction was perfect, finally giving you some relief. He was driving you absolutely insane. You kept grinding your hips, chasing the feeling. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged gently, and his hips twitched up to you. You could feel his hands helping you grind into him, and soon enough he was thrusting up in time with you. The sounds flowed out of you freely now, little whimpers and gasps that matched his groans.

Then someone was knocking at the door, and you ripped yourself away from him. It was Shmi.

"Ani? We should go home now, still a lot of packing to do!" He looked up at you with wide eyes, caught red-handed. Anakin was panting, heavily, barely capable of putting together a sentence.

"Coming!" He called back, though his voice faltered. As you both looked at each other, his boyish grin reappeared, and you both burst out laughing. What the fuck just happened? He helped you get off him and sit back down on your bed. His tall, lean frame leaned over you, putting your foreheads together as your laughter trailed off.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said in a low voice, before kissing you one more time. This kiss was different. There wasn't urgency, or horniness, just a gentle sweetness to it. It was more painful than all your other kisses combined. You nodded, not able to say a single word, as he left the room. 

You could hear him going down the stairs, and greeting your parents. You just sat there, frozen, like your world hadn't just changed in the last half hour. And the funny part? You weren't even thinking about moving away anymore.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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Pick your poison, babe ❥ Fratboy! Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: friend giving immature advice, foul language, sorta toxic ani, jealousy, oral (F), unprotected sex p in v, praise kink, dirty talk, hIckeys, pet names, brief handjob, mention of neighbors masterbating, lying, they’re in college, ani is a frat boy who plays football, miscommunication. not proofread bc i’m ashamed that i wrote so much smut.

Summary: You told Anakin you love him and he said “Ok” which leads to no communication for weeks. (sorta inspired by Friday night lights aka Tim and Lyla meets Chuck and Blair from Gossip Girl with a hint of imgetyouback by taylor swift)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You and Anakin had a very tough relationship, situationship to be exact. It often revolves in sneaking into eachothers dorm room, having mind blowing sex, ending with an argument, forgiving each other the next day and repeating the cycle.

The arguments often always about where this relationship stands. You want to be with him of obviously, you didn’t want him to see other girls. He on the other hand is scared of commitment, not because he wants to date other girls, just because he didn’t wanna mess up, do something stupid and lose you for good.

But this time it was different. It's been three weeks since you and Anakin have talked after your biggest argument. You told him that you loved him expecting him to say it back, but he just said “Ok” which made your blood boil with anger. He got annoyed at your grumpy attitude you were giving him which led to a heated argument.

It left you leaving his dorm room a sobbing mess. It was embarrassing walking down to your dorm while mascara ran through your cheeks. While people stare you down, rumors soon were flying around what happened between you and Anakin. Everyone knew you two were seeing each other.

The morning after you left him like a hundred calls and messages but he didn’t reply. After a couple days of your calls, text messages and acting desperate. You took it as a sign he didn’t wanna talk to you anymore, so you stopped all communications.

Currently you are lying down on your soft pink bed, with your head laying on your soft squishy pillows, thinking about Anakin.

You let out a loud sighing causing your roommate Isabella to look at you through the mirror with concern.

Isabella, loves you like a sister. Both of you guys are really close actually but Isabella is already tired of hearing you complain about Anakin the last couple of weeks.

“I think it’s pathetic how I am still hung up on his lame ass.'' You groan, as you reposition your body, so now you're sitting down against your bed frame while you grab a Vogue magazine from your bedside table and flip through it trying to clear your mind.

“I mean you were in love with him, It takes time to get over someone you love.” she replies, blending out with makeup while still looking at you through the mirror. You glance at her with a pout forming on your lips.

“Just show him you got options, that’s how I did it with James and now we are dating.” she states, with a cocky laugh, Isabella always knew how to make a boy want more. Keep them crawling back.

“Yeah I could, but the problem is… I have no options.” you sigh, throwing the magazine aside. You are a very beautiful stunning girl and receive attention from all kinds of boys but you always rejected them because you want Anakin’s attention.

“So? just lie.” she smirks at you while applying her baby doll blush. “Oh! use the basketball team, the football players hate them.” she giggles trying to help you come up with ideas.

“Maybe you're right, I mean Nathan is always hitting on me.” You admit with a nervous laugh.

“Oh yeah Anakin hates Nathan, it will make him come crawling back, seeing that you're moving on. Especially with someone he hates.” Isabella grins applying mascara to her long lashes.

“Let’s get you all dolled up for him, go to this dumbass party and get him back” Isabella speaks with her flashy smile.

You quickly get up from your bed and sit on the vanity chair as she starts to do your makeup. After a few minutes you start thinking about everything that went wrong.

“He could have said “Me too” instead of saying “ok” I feel like an idiot.” you trail off as she applies foundation to your skin.

“Seriously, It’s been weeks. He’s literally a frat boy who plays football. What did you expect?” She lets out with a smug look, blending out the foundation with a beauty blender. You took it as a sign of defeat and shut up until she finishes your makeup look, before moving on to your hair.

“Thank you isa, you did a good job” you smile at the mirror, she hums in response. “Get dressed into something hot, and apply some of that perfume he likes and lets out” she flutters her eyes on you admiring your angelic features.

You quickly change into a mini dress you knew Anakin wouldn’t be able take his eyes off you. You and Isabella leave soon leave to the party.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The smell of sweat and beer makes you feel sick. You're either going to regret ject coming here or be thankful.

Isabella quickly leaves your side to go talk to some of her other friends. You take a deep breath and walk over to the bar and order a drink before Anakin shows up out of nowhere catching you off guard with a beautiful girl by his side.

Making your stomach drop and getting a sour look on your face, imagining him with other girls makes you feel nauseous. How could he move on so fast?

“Ani” you give him a half-smile feeling your stomach twist in knots, the girl was stunning.

“So how have you been?” you ask nervously, glancing at the girl next to him, trying to keep eye contact on him but you couldn’t.

“I've been good. This is Hazel” he introduces the girl to you, you give her the most fakest smile ever. The girl gives you a odd look before she leaves to go talk to some people. You could roll your eyes at the slight off her but you bite your cheek.

“So is she-“ you start to speak before he cuts you off.

“No, she’s just here trying to make her ex jealous and I offered to help.” he replies, biting his bottom lip. what the fuck?

“And you sweetheart, who are you here with?” he replies smoothly changing the conversation thinking you aren’t seeing anybody.

His cocky persona makes you so angry, you could strangle him. You quickly remember Isabella's words. Just lie and say you're seeing someone. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea because of the sour look you still have on your face after seeing that girl.

“I’m sorta seeing this basketball player, Nathan actually.” you smirk out gaining confidence out of nowhere and looking up at him, he was taken back with your answer, he bites his bottom lip letting out a hazy laugh.

“You're lying through your teeth, sweetheart” he says with that smug look on his face. God how hot he looks.

“I'm not. I’m being serious.” you lied biting your tongue. How did he know you were lying? Isabella's plan was failing.

“You make that face whenever you’re lying” he points out as he wraps his one hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. His other hand gently grabs your chin making you stare up at him so he can examine your delicate features. His action makes your mind go fuzzy. “Ani-“ you whisper out, breathing in his cologne that makes your knees go weak as his slender fingers trace in your jawline.

“You're still number one, the best I've ever had, I’ll trade you for any girl here any day. You don’t have to make me jealous angel, I’m right here for you.” he whispers in your ear, making you whine at the sound of his sweet voice.

You knew that you were falling deeper, you needed to be strong but the smallest touch from him makes you so vulnerable.

You took a loud breath, gathering last dignity you have in youself. “Anakin.” you let out. He knew you were being serious, because you always called him Ani. “I can't do this…” you sigh, getting out of his grip. He quickly grabs your wrist before you can leave.

Dragging you away from the party, he pushes aside all the sweaty bodies, making people groan with annoyance at his actions. “Ani, where are you taking me?” you mumble out. Now both of you two are outside away from the party, the pale moonlight reflects you two, you guys can hear each other perfectly now, without the loud music.

“What is it?” you speak softly looking up at him.

“I’m sorry-” he apologizes before you cut him off.

“No! I told you that I loved you and you didn’t even care then you hid… I’m sorry I can’t do this right now.” your eyes begin to well up with tears as you try to leave the scene before he grabs your wrist again.

“Let go of me” you speak with your voice breaking down, trying to pull away but his grip was strong on your delicate wrist. Hearing you like this breaks his heart.

“Listen… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you, when I knew I did. I'm scared, that’s why I ghosted you. No words truly could make up for what I did. I never felt this way for someone until I met you, it’s all new to me. Trust me sweetheart” he confesses with his blue eyes starting to get glossy, as his finger moves to your face swiping away any strands of hair.

You never seen this part of Anakin, he’s always so cocky and without a care in the world. Tonight you saw a genuine soft side of him. Making your heart skip in beats.

“You're being serious? This isn’t one of your little games right?” you question playing with the hem of your short dress, not wanting to get hurt again.

“I love you” he smiles as his hand caresses your cheek in a reassuring way, before pulling you into a kiss. A long awaited kiss. You've been craving for weeks now.

“let’s go to my dorm, my roommate is spending the night at her boyfriend's place.” you smirk pulling away making him do a boyish grin. Grabbing his hand guiding him to your dorm room that wasn’t that far away.

The walk to your dorm was quiet but it wasn’t awkward, the both of you were just enjoying each other’s company. The sexual tension was killing you. All you wanted to do was arrive at your dorm and make up for any lost time.

You arrive at your dorm quickly getting the keys from your pocket, trying to open the door as fast as you can. You finally manage to open the door, pulling him inside.

He quickly wastes no time and pins you against the door making your back thump against the wooden door. “Sorry my love, i’m getting ahead of myself” he muffles out between kisses. The new pet name could make you drop to your knees right now and suck him off.

His lips slowly move to your jawline nibbling softly as his right hand moves to your waist tracing circles with his fingers. He knew all the right places to touch you.

He soon moves down, kissing your neck as you lean your head back on the door giving him access to roam your neck. He starts to softly suck on your soft spot and you whimper.

“I miss this. I miss you” you ramble on, lost in the small pleasure he is bringing you. You feel a familiar sensation of heat down there.

“Shush sweetheart let me take care of you” he reassures you by unzipping your dress before it falls down to the ground as you kick off your shoes.

As he turns you around and guides you to your bed. He pushes gently so now your back is on your bed all that is left on you is a lacy white bra and soft delicate lacy underwear. He takes a second to examine your body before getting on the bed and hovering over you. “I miss the sight of you like this, you on your pretty pink bed. I dreamt about this every night, getting you this whiny and perfect for me again” he admits, there are strands of hair covering his forehead, making him even more gorgeous.

His mouth soon meets with your collarbone, gently sucking on it leaving love bites making your mind go dizzy, one of his hands is behind your head, the other is holding your waist. A small moan escapes your pouty lips. Before he unclipps your lacy white bra, pulling it off and throwing it aside. “I missed your tits” he moans out at the slight of them, before kissing them softly.

He goes more down on you as his face meets with your inner thighs he presses soft warm kisses on them. His face is so close to your throbbing core, he pulls off your panties and throws them behind him.

“Please Ani, I need you” you whine out just wanting to feel his lips around your core. “Only because you ask nicely” he whispers softly as he begins sucking on your clit, making you let out a loud porngraphic moan. One of your hands is gripping on to your pink bed sheets, the other hand is softly tugging on Anakin’s curls making him groan loudly. You know your neighbors will glare at you in the morning but you didn’t care, your mind was on the boy between your legs.

He continued to lick you away, before he adds two fingers and begins to pump into you. His tongue is doing wonders down there.

You felt your mind goes foggy with all the pleasure. “Ani i’m close” you whine out running your hand through his soft hair. “Cum on my tongue sweetheart” he whimpers out wanting to feel your warm liquids on his tongue.

He guides you through your orgasm, “You taste so good.” he moans out as he keeps sucking away at your core, his fingers get faster driving you over the edge and releasing, making him moan at the slight of the warm liquid coming crashing down like a waterfall on his tongue.

He licks you clean before returning himself to your face with his boyish grin splatter on his face. Making your lips form a smile at the sight of him. God you really did miss him these couple of weeks.

“Hi” you giggle out playing with his hair. “I missed seeing your pretty face.” you grin out, making the blue eyed boy laugh softly as he caresses your cheek with his hand. “You think I am pretty?” he teases, as you nod before he kisses you making you taste your liquids that remain on his soft lips.

you begin taking off his shirt and run your hands through his toned abs. It was currently training for football so he was getting back into shape, God how beautiful his body is.

Your hands makes its way down to his bulge, your hand grinds against his jeans, making him groan your name. Your hand is now at his belt, as you unbuckle it and throw it aside, you unzip his pants and he kicks them off. Leaving him in his underwear, you quickly pull it away without pulling away from the kiss.

As your hand rubs the tip before stroking the shaft. Making him moan into the kiss, he reaches for your hand and brings it back to his face.

“Wrap your legs around my waist” he grunts pulling away from the kiss, you obey his command.

“Are you ready?” he speaks with desperation in his voice, as you nod quickly, pulling him into another hungry kiss.

He begins to thrust inside of you, while your hands are running through his curls. “I forgot how tight you are” he hisses out between kisses rolling his hips inside of you.

“please don’t stop” you whine out feeling your mind go dizzy, you're already seeing stars.

“it’s okay, i'm right here, I got you” he manages to reply back, thrusting faster inside of you. You really missed this.

"Arch your back for me." he whimpers out as you obey his order, within doing this he hits your g spot. Driving you over the edge letting out a very loud whimper.

“Do that again-mhm, just like that shit, right there Ani.” you moan out as he does that motion again. He’s fucking you so good that you’re struggling to kiss him back.

You feel your orgasm coming. “Ani I’m close” you cried out as your nails were running through his back. Your walls are closing on him making him moan out your name.

“C-Can I cum inside of you” he pleases.

“I want you to, I need you to. Please fill me up Ani.” your breath is hitch at every thrust he makes.

“That’s what I like to hear, mhm fuck, that’s my good girl” his pouty lips let out as he begins to suck on your neck, marking you.

“I’m cumming Ani” you moan out as your body starts to shake as you release, a few seconds after he also cums, your juice and his juices come crashing down together like waves.

The room is just filled with loud pornographiac moans coming from both of you. Anyone who was in the hallway or room beside you could definitely hear due to the thin walls.

He pulls out and flops next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him. Both of you were a sweaty mess but you didn’t mind.

“God I miss you so much.” he admits, as he catchs his breath. As he starts to play with strands of your hair, wrapping your soft hair around his finger.

“I’m never letting go of you, ever again.” he smiles

“Good” you reply, grabbing him into a small kiss before pulling away.

“I love you” you speak caressing his cheek, looking at him with your doe eyes. “I love you more” he replies smiling with his boyish grin.

“Not possible” you giggle out.

“Yes possible” he replies kissing your nose making you wrinkle it.

“My neighbors hate us, you know?” you softly laugh.

“Well they definitely were jerking off to our nosies, especially your pretty moans.” he snorts out as your jaw drops, as you softly smack him against the shoulder. “Don’t say that Ani”

“Hey i’m just saying… come to my football practice tomorrow?” he asks changing the conversation with a goofy smile.

“Yes, of course, boyfriend” you grin ear to ear, you waited so long for this moment. When you can finally call him yours.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

an: what the heck. this is the most I ever written. Enjoy! i love frat ani :)

I’ll be your little bitch James🤭

/credit to @ kayvaderr on twitter

No because why is my first response when seeing any form of media with Hayden in it to squeal and say “HE’S SO PRETTY” in the highest pitch voice i have…

because he is…he is so pretty 🧎‍♀️

Hayden Chistensen - Life Is A House, 2002

And why isn't he in my bed rn?..

(Credit to @ spaceymaseyyy on TikTok)

I want to slap his stepmom SO BAD

Edits are made by myself!

Can we kiss

On my way rn bby🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Awake bloopers!

ok… the way he laughs and says “we got it” in the first take?? his brows raising as he laughs?? put it in me rn

when he goes to unlock the door and it doesn’t open- y did he kinda whimper?! ngl it was hot. i’m chronically in love with this man

THE WAY HE SAID BABE?!

also jessica is literally so fucking beautiful?! and her voice is so cute- like they looked so damn good together 😭

scotty and sam who are sexually frustrated because they barely get to touch themselves 👅..

this isn't very well written because, as you all probably know by now, im lazy with my writing sometimes. #cute, but it was like 12 aye em when me and my bbg bnuuy were thinking of these.. so!!!! 👅 #issomebodygonnamatchmy𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

౨ৎ sam only jerks off in the shower because he knows if he does it on the bed, he'll leave a big mess to clean up. jerking off in the shower seemed like a good idea. he could wash off his cum off with his shower rag and soap just like that. messes were only one part of the problem, though. he still had to be quiet. he always made noise when touching himself, so it's not like he could just stop. it was just natural for him. broken moans and soft whimpers leaving his mouth, head tilted back. he was hoping nobody could hear him. he'd kill himself if it was ever mentioned.

౨ৎ scott touches himself at night because he thinks everyone is asleep, and it's the best time, apparently. he also lets out moans here and there. it feels too good not to whine about it just a little. just like his brother. he's hoping no one hears. especially not sam. their rooms are right next to each other, and the walls are kind of thin. sometimes, he'll forget that he has to shut up, though. so he thought maybe gripping his sheets with his free hand would remind him he has to be quiet because there are other people home.

— bnnuys’ ♡ thoughts !!

✦ how do their noises sound? “whimpery and breathy.”

✦ “they have to edge because they'll be too loud if they finish.”

✦ “scott cries, and sam curses repeatedly.”

✦ “scott whimpers while he humps his pillow and sam growls while he fucks his pocket pussy he put in his pillow.”

✦ “i like to imagine they both hump their pillows somehow at the same time, and their beds are up against the same wall so they can hear each other and their headboards knock against the wall.”

—

౨ৎ sam grips onto the sides of his pillow while he fucks into it. probably imagining some porn star he really likes or a girl he takes interest in. he likes to imagine her tits bouncing up and down because of his hard thrusts. his headboard is knocking against the wall, and he knows scott can hear. It's gonna be so awkward the next day, but sam just feels too good to care right now. “Mmph, fuck..” he groans, followed by curses and keeps thrusting into the pocket pussy until he overflows it with his cum.

౨ৎ scott can hear the rocking of sams headboard against the wall, but he's too busy rolling his hips on his own pillow. hes holding the bottom of it while his cock slips up and down on the material. hes letting out soft moans that are quiet enoug for no one to hear. hes teasing himself. he wants to go faster, but he'll start moaning like a bitch, and he hates it. he just wants to cum so bad. it hurts. hes crying and covering his mouth with his other hand to block out any whimpers that might come out too loud. whats scotty thinking about? he doesnt even have a specific girl in mind. just a girl with a nice pair of tits and clit he can run his tip in and out of. occasionally slipping in his whole cock on her drooling cunt. “uh-mm! gonna.. mm–” tears rolling down his blushed cheeks. poor baby.

how does the next day go between the twins? its a little awkward but they're boys. tmi doesn't exist.

“were you jerking off or something like that last night?” scott asks while pouring himself some orange juice. “yeah, why do you care.” sam replied, spreading jelly on a piece of bread. “cause I heard your headboard knocking up against my wall.” sam looked at his brother, and blushed the slightest bit out of embarrassment. “yeah? well I heard you moaning.” the dark haired boy said back so he wasnt the only one who was embarrassed. the twins looked at each other wirh a disgusted look, but then laughed at each other.

“You're nasty. I dont wanna hear that shit ever again.” scott tells his brother and sam reaches out to shake his brothers hand. “if you stop being so damn loud.” scott looked at sams hand and shook it, nodding as an agreement.. but let me tell you, these boys have no boundaries with their jokes. “I did it with this hand.” scott says nonchalantly. sam pretends to make an irked face, but got rid of it fast. “same.” he replies and they laugh again.. and forget about it!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

@anakinstwinklebunny @anisangeldust @sockiess @erossmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @catnipaddictt @haydensprettyprincess @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor @maevesversion @emmaloo21 @starwarsbian @anakinsvault @torturedlovergirl @sammonroesslut 🌟

i'm about to start chewing concrete

CLAYTON BERESFORD THE MAN THAT YOU AREEEE

(Credit to @ calsglove on TikTok)

juliette im so jealous of you 😒

this was supposed to be a scott + sam thing but I got lazy