#I really hope you've been enjoying the story 💕

[thelazyhermits]

After reading the first TWST novel and seeing how Yuu/Grim's first meeting with Ace went there, I decided to write a drabble about how that encounter went with my Yuu, which I'll put underneath the cut.

Also, I've gone back and edited An Unlikely Team as well as Grim/Ace's chapters in An Unlikely Friendship, although there was only a minor edit in Grim's chapter as compared to Ace's chapter which got a whole different dialogue added in the final scene thanks to me getting inspired by the novel.

I hope y'all enjoy the new content! 😊💕

He’s definitely up to something.

That was the first thought that crossed your mind upon meeting Ace Trappola, a first-year student who introduced himself after approaching you and Grim while you both were studying the seven statues on Main Street that, for some reason, look exactly like popular Disney villains.

Grim, however, obviously felt differently since, ever since Ace showed up, he’s been amicably chatting with the redhead about the statues, all the while not looking the least bit suspicious of Ace.

Meanwhile, you’ve been working on cleaning the surrounding area, which is the job that had been assigned to both you and that procrastinating monster, because you really don’t want to risk getting in trouble with Crowley for not doing your job since said job is the reason you now have a free place to stay as well as a means to make money for food and everything else you'll need to survive in this strange, foreign world you've somehow found yourself in.

Plus, you had wanted to put some space between you and Ace since you don’t trust him and that fake smile of his, especially since he’s wearing the kind of fake smile that looks so genuine that only someone like you who’s grown up surrounded by adults, who use their professional fake smiles to take advantage of others for a living, would be able to see through his façade.

The whole time you’ve been cleaning, you’ve been surreptitiously scrutinizing Ace, trying to figure out what his hidden agenda is, all while simultaneously listening carefully to all the information he provides about the statues - information that matches well with what you know about the Disney villains they resemble.

Except for the fact that everything Ace says makes these villains sound like actual decent people who are worth revering rather than the scoundrels they were in the movies from your world.

Every time you hear Ace compliment the people the statues are based on, you have to fight the urge to scoff since so much of what he says is just so difficult for you to believe.

I can’t believe these villains’ stories got so twisted that they became people who are seriously revered in this world. You incredulously shake your head. Even worse, the Queen of Hearts’ story is pretty much the same as it was in Alice in Wonderland, meaning these people seriously didn’t mind a crazy queen who decapitates people as a regular form of punishment.

Just what kind of world have you found yourself in?

You wearily massage your temple. Hopefully, all that nonsense is just a part of this world’s history and not its present. Otherwise, I’ll need to steer clear of the part of the world where the Queen of Hearts reigned for the sake of my own well-being, although I can’t see myself leaving this school anytime soon, considering traveling requires money among many other things.

Obviously, I’ll need to do some more research on this subject. You muse. If I’m gonna survive in this crazy world, I need to learn as much about it as I can since knowledge is power.

Plus, you’re genuinely curious about this world’s “Great Seven” and want to see if there are any more commonalities between them and the movie villains from your world whom they so greatly resemble.

“Pretty cool, huh? Not like some piddling weasel.”

You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when Ace’s previously friendly and cheerful voice suddenly becomes noticeably cold and malicious.

While Grim makes a surprised sound, you quickly focus your now narrowed gaze on the redhead. So he’s finally making his move. It’s about time. Now, I’ll finally find out what his deal is since I couldn’t get any clues from his earlier behavior when I was watching him.

“Pfft! Ah ha ha! I can't hold it back anymore!” Ace declares as he starts laughing, hard enough that he doubles over. “It’s too funny! I can’t breathe!”

For several seconds, his loud, wild laughter fills the air, and during this time, you give Ace an unimpressed look while Grim just stares at him with wide eyes, appearing stunned.

Once he eventually manages to compose himself, Ace wipes away the tears of mirth from his eyes. “Come on, you're the ones who turned orientation into a fiasco, right?”

“You two seriously stand out.” Ace sneers as he points at you. “A total normie, the perfect punchline to a disappointing joke. Every eye in the school focused on you last night, and you can’t even use a drop of magic.”

Completely unfazed by his mocking words, you maintain your unimpressed expression, which you can tell bothers him because his face briefly appears annoyed when you don’t give him the kind of reaction that you know he was hoping for.

Since he clearly won’t have any fun with you as his target, Ace quickly moves onto his next one and points at Grim. “And a monster who wasn’t even summoned by the Dark Mirror in the first place but crashed orientation anyway and got beaten to a pulp by my dorm leader.”

Wearing a cold smile, Ace gives both you and Grim a once-over before saying, “You’re perfect for each other.”

“W-What are ya-” Grim briefly stammers before scowling, “Ya don't gotta be a jerk! Comin' at us all of a sudden like this!”

“It’s not all of a sudden, dude.” Ace smirks, “The look on your face when they picked you up and tossed you out was hilarious! It took everything I had not to burst into laughter right in the middle of the ceremony!”

After giving you and the cleaning equipment that’s beside you a particularly withering look, Ace snickers, “So, in the end, neither of you got admitted, and now, you're janitors? SO lame!”

Upon realizing that Ace seriously is only here to taunt you and Grim, the tension in your frame eases as you roll your eyes. Really? That’s it? I was worried he might be someone secretly dangerous since his fake smile is so convincing, like the ones I always saw back in my world, but he’s really just an immature brat. I don’t know if I should be relieved or disappointed.

In direct contrast to you, who has calmed down now that you’ve realized Ace is no threat to you, Grim becomes increasingly more irritated. “Shaddup, you! I’m gonna be a student at this school in no time!”

“Nuh-uh! No way!” Ace shakes his head. “You're so clueless you don't even know who the Great Seven are. Not a one of them! Maybe before you try getting into the academy again, you ought to take a second crack at kindergarten?”

Unable to help yourself, you dryly retort, “Really? YOU’RE the one who’s saying someone should go back to kindergarten - the grade that so obviously suits you way better?”

Caught off guard since you’ve been silent pretty much the whole time he’s been here, Ace, along with Grim, turns to look at you in surprise.

Soon after, Ace’s surprise turns into annoyance. “And what’s THAT supposed to mean?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? Even though you could’ve been doing way more productive things with your time, you instead went out of your way to come taunt us ‘cause you hated how much attention we got thanks to the orientation fiasco, like an immature, jealous brat.”

“Not only that, you’re getting in our way when we have work to do.” You huff before making a shooing gesture. “So can you just leave already? I have way more important things to do than listen to someone whose opinions I don’t give a damn about.”

Once he overcomes his surprise, Grim starts guffawing, “Way to tell him, Henchman! That’ll teach that jealous brat not to mess with the Great Grim! Myahaha!”

“I am NOT jealous!” Ace scowls, “Why the hell would I be jealous of losers like you two who are only still around ‘cause you got lucky enough to get a job cleaning up all of the WAY more important people’s trash?!”

After saying that, Ace angrily stomps over to where you’re standing and jabs a finger at your chest, glaring all the while. “You have a lotta nerve looking down on me when I actually earned my place here fair and square after working my ass off, unlike you who just waltzed right in and did whatever you pleased. A magicless loser like you has no place at this school, so get off your damn high horse already before you get knocked off.”

Completely unfazed by his anger since you’ve gone up against far scarier people in Japan’s underworld, you boredly swat away his finger. “I’m not looking down on you.”

Faster than he can react, you reach out and grab onto Ace’s shoulder with a tight enough grip that makes him cry out in pain.

Using your grip on his shoulder, you push down with enough strength to force the redhead, whom you quickly realize has no real fighting experience, to his knees.

In hopes that he will refrain from bothering you and Grim in the future if you give him a scary enough warning, you fiercely glare down at the shocked boy who’s now kneeling before you. “NOW, I am, and if you don’t want to end up in way worse shape, I highly recommend that you leave me and Grim alone and just focus on your studies like a good little student.”

As expected, upon being on the receiving end of your heated glare, Ace flinches and becomes noticeably paler.

Unfortunately, it would seem Ace Trappola is not as smart as you had originally thought he was since, rather than follow his instincts, which have surely identified you as an opponent he has no hope of ever beating by this point, Ace, whose fear quickly turns into ire, instead immediately shoots back up to his feet and tries to grab you by the collar of your hoodie. “You arrogant bastard! Don’t you dare make fun of me!”

Naturally, you smoothly avoid his hands since he’s nowhere near fast enough to grab hold of an experienced fighter like you.

“Alright, Henchman, you’ve done your part! Now, it’s time for your amazing boss to take over! Myaaaaah!”

Catching you and Ace off guard, Grim, who had been laughing on the sidelines up until this point, decides to get in on the action and proceeds to use his fire magic on Ace who just barely manages to avoid Grim’s fireball attack.

“Whoa!” Ace exclaims before turning to scowl at Grim. “What are you doing?!”

Grim smirks, “Now that my henchman’s had a turn, it’s time for me to dole out some payback ‘cause no one makes fun of Grim, Master of Fire, and gets away with it! I'll make ya regret messin’ with me!”

Ace scoffs, “You wanna throw down with me, shorty? You got some guts.”

Realizing that the two boys look like they seriously intend to fight, you face-palm. This is not what I was hoping to accomplish when I tried to intimidate Ace. If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have done anything to him.

Just when you think this situation couldn’t possibly get any more exasperating, several NRC students, who had been on their way to class, start approaching the area where you, Grim, and Ace are, obviously curious about what’s going on between Grim and Ace.

Upon realizing that a fight is about to happen, the crowd of boys starts jeering and cheering, earning themselves an exasperated look from you. Boys…

Deciding it’s better to ignore the crowd for now, you quickly get in between Grim and Ace. “Enough! Grim, you can’t use your magic to fight here! If you cause any property damage, we’ll both get in serious trouble with the Headmage, and I do NOT wanna have to deal with that! And I bet you won’t be happy either when your tuna funds get taken away!”

Much to your annoyance, rather than heed your words, Grim scurries around you, moving fast enough that you can’t catch him. “Relax, Henchman! The only thing gettin’ damaged here is Ace’s ugly mug! Myahaha!”

Right after saying that, Grim launches another fireball at Ace. Unfortunately for the monster, his attack misses its mark just like it did last time, although it’s because of a completely different reason.

Instead of moving to dodge the attack like he did earlier, Ace, after pulling out what looks like a pen with a red gem on it, summons a gust of wind that knocks away Grim’s fireball before it can reach him. 

Ace smirks, “Ha! How do you like that?”

As Grim complains about Ace blowing away his fireballs and the redhead taunts him in return, you just blink. Huh, guess magic can control elements here like it can on TV back in my world. Good to know.

Seconds after that thought crosses your mind, realization suddenly dawns on your now pale features. Wait a minute. Fire and wind together? Oh no…

Realizing that this is a recipe for disaster, you shout, “Both of you, stop! If you keep mixing fire and wind magic together, you’ll-!”

Before you can finish that sentence, Grim, who has chosen to completely ignore you, angrily fires off another fireball at Ace, which the redhead once again blows away with his wind magic.

Unfortunately, unlike last time, the fire doesn’t simply get diverted to an area where it can’t harm anyone. This time, it hits a target.

The worst possible target.

Horrified, you watch as Grim’s attack, which became stronger thanks to Ace's wind magic fanning its flames, just as you had feared would happen, lands a direct hit on the Queen of Hearts’ statue, causing the statue to become completely engulfed in flames. Oh, shit. We are so screwed...

And, of course, you were exactly right.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Me: job is quite stressful today

You: *drops the penultimate chapter of As the River Flows*

I really needed a wonderful fic to read to destress! I'm still amazed by the fact you wrote eight chapters as a gift to me, thank you thank you thank you!

I hope you have an amazing day, friend💐💕

I'm so sorry to hear yesterday was stressful!! I hope things slow down and that you get a moment to decompress! 💕

heheh and I hope you enjoyed chapter 8! 🥰 Thank you for being so patient with me as it's taking me so long to finish your gift, I hope it was the magical regency you were dreaming of hehe

And I hope you have a beautiful day!! Sending you a whole busshel of love darling 💐💕

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader��s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

[joelscruff]

wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k

i miss you

it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.

it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.

now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.

he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?

you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.

you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.

still have u inside me daddy

oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?

you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.

your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.

you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.

you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.

the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.

your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.

i miss you too, angel. so much.

your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.

"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.

tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.

fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.

your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.

god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.

before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.

he answers on the first ring.

"h-"

"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."

"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"

and that's enough to break you.

you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."

he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."

"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."

"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."

"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."

"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."

"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.

the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.

"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"

you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.

seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.

"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."

and somehow you are.

--

"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."

"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."

you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.

"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."

"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."

you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."

the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."

he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.

--

the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.

you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.

"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."

"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.

you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.

he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.

"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.

he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.

"sorry," you wince, "joel."

he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.

"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."

your heart skips a beat, "what?"

"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"

you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.

you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."

his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.

he fucks you slow.

it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.

you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.

"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."

you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.

"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."

you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."

he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."

"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."

there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.

"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."

he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.

you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.

"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."

for the first time, you stay the night.

[luveline]

Hello! 💕 I love your work!

May I request a small drabble where Roan is at a stage when she's so fascinated with reader's makeup and outfits that Roan wants to copy her mom's style.

Thank you!

thank you for your request!! I know you sent it in April but I hope you can enjoy regardless! dad!eddie x fem!reader, 1.8k

Roan is trying to be respectful. She really, truly is, but this is her chance. She can hear you in the bathroom talking to her dad where he's sitting with his back to the closed door. Eddie hadn't paid Roan any mind when she walked past him into your room, because Roan isn't badly behaved. Well, usually. 

She knows she shouldn't touch your things without asking, but she just loves how you look before you go out with your friends —you'd traipsed down the stairs yesterday afternoon in a casual dress and flats with your make up all shiny and dewy and pretty— and she wants to look pretty too. 

She looks through your make up bag cautiously. She doesn't want to break anything. Eddie's laughing loudly now, and the door must be ajar because your voice is louder. You're telling a story, and Eddie's eating it up, he's practically shouting he's laughing so much. Roan stands up to go and investigate, but then she thinks maybe she won't get to do this again, so she sits back down and picks up a lip gloss. 

Roan jumps as you get out of the bath, a plastic pulling sound like skin rubbed against porcelain ringing down the hall. She's on high alert, and she's scared of being caught, and she definitely didn't think this through. She grabs your make up bag and flees to the wardrobe, throwing open the doors and climbing inside. She shouts the door behind her, holding her breath in the dark. 

You walk into the bedroom, Eddie on your tail. 

"I don't think you should hang out with her anymore," Eddie's saying, his voice still laden with laughter. 

"By that logic I should've stopped hanging out with you a long time ago," you say. You squeal like you've been pinched, adding, "A long long time ago."

"Yeah, you should've. Do you want to go anywhere, or are we putting our pyjamas on?" 

There's thirty seconds of relative silence and then sound. A plastic lid from your body butter, the bedside table lamp being turned on, Eddie coughing. Her dad's been sick this week, a cold Roan miraculously didn't catch. She made sure to give him extra cuddles and he healed up pretty fast. Roan the Healing Balm, he called her. 

"Nowhere," you say finally. A drawer rolls on its hinges. "Did you want to–" 

"Nah, just wondering. We need crackers for Ro's lunch tomorrow and toilet paper, but we can get those in the morning. That smells nice, what one is that?" 

"One you got me, uh, mandarin and something. Ylang-ylang?" 

"Smells good."

"You want some?" 

"I'm okay." 

"No, come here." 

Roan holds your make up bag closer to her chest. She pushes the door gently to widen a slit so she can spy on you. You're in pyjamas now, a towel wrapped around your hair, sockless and climbing onto the bed where Eddie's lying. He sits up. Roan's worried she'll be caught, so she lets the door fall back into place.

Mattress springs shift, and Eddie says, "It's cold." 

"Your arms are sooo long," you say simply. There's a smacking sound like a kiss. "And kissable! Who knew?" 

"I love you," Eddie says warmly. 

"I love you too…" There's another kiss. "You're pretty." 

"You're pretty," Eddie says. 

"Want a hug?" 

Eddie doesn't say yes or no. Roan peaks out through the gap again to find you kneeling at the end of the bed with your arms around his shoulders. He rubs your back, his tattoo looking darker than usual from the moisturiser. 

"Where's Ro?" you ask quietly, kissing the top of his head. "Maybe she wants a hug too." 

"She's being really quiet today," Eddie says, "I think she's up to something." 

You kiss his head again and peel away, brushing a curl from his eyes as you say, "You always think she's up to something. Your dad sense is on the fritz." 

"Probably. Hey, have you seen my big hoodie? I was thinking I'd take her out for a bit, push her on the tyre swing and burn off some mischievous energy." 

"Gonna wear it over your pyjamas?" you ask. 

"Duh." 

"I think it's in the wardrobe. If it's not in there it's in the laundry. I'm gonna go find my girl," you say. 

"I'll be right there," Eddie says. 

Roan holds her breath again as he approaches. She knows she's busted but she can't help trying to hide anyways, burying her face in her knees, hands around her legs, your make up bag lost in the folded jeans beneath her. The door creaks slowly, and Eddie gasps. 

"Oh, holy shit," Eddie says. "Holy sugar. Hey, babe, what the heck are you doing in there?" 

"What?" you ask. 

Roan lifts her head, a pout on her lips that begs for forgiveness. Eddie grins as soon as he's recovered from the shock of finding her, and you're wide-eyed from behind him.

"Well, there's my girl," you say, resting your hand on Eddie's thigh as you crouch. "Watcha doing? Who are we hiding from?" 

Eddie crouches down next to you, and you both look so happy to see her that Roan figures she might not get into trouble after all. Now that she can see, she picks up the stolen make up bag and offers it back to you. 

"I just wanted to try," she explains. 

You and Eddie look at each other. 

"Well, you shouldn't be in mom's things," Eddie begins, gently scolding as you accept the bag.

"All you have to do is ask, Ro," you finish. 

"I want to look like you," Roan says. 

Eddie smiles. "Come on. Get out of the wardrobe, babe, before we close you in." 

You elbow him as Eddie gets his hands under Roan's arms, helping her out of the wardrobe. She doesn't need help, but her dad is super strong and has her sitting on the big bed before she can blink. You follow with your make up bag in hand, sitting down with an excitement that wobbles the mattress. 

"What do you want, babe? Lip gloss?" 

"And the sparkly eyes," she says. They're imperative. 

"Oh, good choice," you say. 

You shuffle closer to Roan and pull out the white square of eyeshadow, flipping it open. There's lots of colours inside, but the best in Roan's opinion is a white that shines baby pink in the sun. Roan tells you what she wants, and you have her close her eyes, leaning in to take her chin into your hand gently. Your breath fans over her cheek. "Keep your eyes closed, lovely girl." 

Roan squeezes them closed.

"Not that closed!" you laugh. 

Roan relaxes. Carefully, softly, you pat eyeshadow onto her eyelids with your fingertip, humming little affirmative sounds under your breath. 

"Good girl," you murmur, blending the ends out with what feels like a different finger. "Just sit still, one more second." 

More patting. Roan tries not to move around, but her excitement has her shaking. After a few more moments you lean back. 

"All done, babe. You can open your eyes." 

Roan opens her eyes wide, the light nearly too bright. Eddie sorts through the stuff in your make up bag, interested, bottles and brushes clinking together. "Oh, hey," he says, lifting a tube up, "this colour?" 

It's the red-pink colour that Roan yearns for. She nods eagerly and you hold out your hand. You unscrew it and bring the applicator to her lips. Roan pouts, which makes you and Eddie smile in tandem. She has no idea why. 

You put a little bit on the centre of her lip and spread it out with your pinky finger. Roan is totally relaxed by your lap. 

"I need the shiny one too," you say. 

Eddie shuffles through your things and procures a clear lip gloss. "This?" 

"Yes, please." 

Eddie hands it to you and you uncap it deftly.

"Rub your lips together, baby," you say, demonstrating. 

Roan rubs her lips together. You brush the clear lip gloss on top of the pink and tell her to rub her lips together again, before smoothing a little bit of moisturiser over her face with kind fingers. You trace the heart of her face down to the chin and beam at her. 

"You look so pretty," you say, falling into the bubbly voice you and Eddie don't use so much anymore. 

Roan's chin dips inward shyly. Eddie pulls a compact from your bag and shows her the mirror part, and her chin quickly lifts. A blush rises to her cheeks as she turns her face one way and then another. 

"What do you think?" Eddie asks. 

Roan nods a bunch of times before she answers, not wanting to tear her gaze from the mirror. "I look beautiful," she says. 

"Yes, you do! You always look beautiful," Eddie says. 

"I need to put my dress on," Roan says firmly. She gives herself one last look in the mirror before sliding off of the bed and out of your reach. 

She races off. 

You and Eddie look at each other while she's gone, two pleased, stickying smiles. "She's so easy to please," you say. 

"No, you just spend the time with her. She loves you." 

You push your hand across the bed toward his thigh and lean on it, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Want me to do yours, too?" you offer. 

"Definitely. I'll hold off on the dress, for now. I don't think I have one that'll fit." 

You lift your chin for a kiss. "Good idea," you say against his lips.  

"I'd look good though, right?" 

"You'd look amazing. You have the thighs for it." 

"I do, don't I?" he asks, pleased. 

You have your face on Eddie's leg when Roan comes back, his arms splayed across the length of your back, as though you've collapsed in on one another. She does a spin in her second nicest dress. 

"Do I look like you, mom?" she asks. 

You smile like you've won the lottery. "You look a thousand times more beautiful than me, sweetheart." 

Roan laughs and does another spin. Eddie hums unhappily because you're just as beautiful, but he has to admit that his girl looks good. 

"Let me grab the camera," he says. 

For once, Roan doesn't grumble. She poses for pictures and makes sure she has a bunch with you, too, even though you aren't wearing anything so nice as she is. 

"I'm gonna have that one printed," Eddie says after a flash.

"No you are not!" you say.

Eddie and Roan share a look. He's definitely having it printed. 

—

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! please think about reblogging if you enjoyed and have the time ♡

more eddie, roan and reader

[changetyre]

Oscar x reader best friends to lovers smut? So happy to hear your friend improved. 💕💕

Ily II Oscar Piastri x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Of course, you've always loved your best friend, it's just never been exactly clear how much. WARNINGS: **18+** not proofread

A/N: So the part of the story in small letters is actually a part I already had uploaded on Wattpad cause someone had requested something similar over there. The part in regular letters is the smut part for y'all horny people. ;) enjoy xx

"OSCAR PUT ME DOWN!" You yelled between laughter as Oscar walked with you slumped over his shoulder. 

"Not yet!!" he chanted. 

You covered your face in embarrassment as you could see multiple cameras around you taking pictures of the scene. 

"OSCAR PEOPLE ARE LOOKING!" You smacked his ass making him laugh. 

"Hmm they know us already it's fine." He shrugged. 

This had all started when you'd refused to get into the paddock this morning after forgetting your phone back at the hotel. Oscar had come to rush you this morning making you run through your room as you got dressed and ready before Oscar was rushing you out for absolutely no reason since you'd gotten to the paddock early regardless.

You still didn't know how you fell for his pranks after being best friends for so long. After arriving at the paddock you went to take out your pass from your purse only to realize your phone wasn't in there and you refused to go in without it telling Oscar you'd go back to get it and meet with him later but he didn't like the idea of it. 

He insisted you didn't need it since he was with you for most of the day anyways so you'd be fine, your family had his phone number and he let you use his phone whenever anyway so it wasn't a necessity but you were petty, and stubborn so you still refuse which resulted in Oscar picking you up and carrying you inside. 

"Oop and we're here." Oscar bounced you off his shoulder making you let out a small scream as he finally placed you down at the entrance of the McLaren hospitality. 

"I hate you." You huffed seeing his sly smile. 

"Nah you love me," Oscar replied not noticing the way your breath hitched at the comment. 

It had always been a secret you'd kept, the fact that you had always had a crush on Oscar and it got easier, you lived to learn with the little ache you felt when Oscar would speak about the fact that what you head was a FRIENDship, or the way he would get close to other girls looking them at ways you secretly wished he looked at you. But lately, it just seemed to get a little harder, hiding it had never been so hard and every time you'd tell him you loved him as you'd always done it was just different, you couldn't say it without really meaning it anymore. 

You simply cleared your throat trying to ease the ache. 

"You alright?" Oscar furrowed his brows noticing your change in attitude, the way your smile slightly dropped. 

"Yeah, just got a little lightheaded that's all." You lied hoping he wouldn't question you further. 

"Oh sorry about that." Oscar placed a hand around your waist not knowing this didn't help you as you walked into the hospitality. 

You hated the way his touch now was almost just painful knowing it would never mean what you wanted. Moving out of his grasp you walked ahead of him. 

Oscar noticed though, he noticed the way you moved as if his touch burned you, the way you weren't as affectionate anymore, the way you were barely able to look him in the eye and it scared him. It scared him half to death not knowing what was going on and feeling as if he was losing his best friend with each passing second. 

Walking into his driver's room you sat at your usual corner looking down and avoiding his eyes, it was obvious something was in your thoughts. 

Oscar shut the door behind him and was ready to confront you about it. "y/n what is going on with you?" Oscar asked. 

His tone was serious, it was something you'd never really heard with him your conversations always being fun and light. 

"Nothing, I'm just tired." You quickly lied. You'd gotten good with quick little lies recently trying to get yourself and your feelings unnoticed.

"It's not nothing, stop lying and tell me what's wrong." Oscar insisted, his tone partly angry this time. 

"Oscar I'm telling the truth, can you just let it go." You replied frustrated as well. 

"No, I can't. I love you y/n and I'm not-" 

"Don't say that." You quickly interrupted him. 

"Why it's the truth, I do love you and-" 

"Oscar stop it!" You raised your voice. 

"I LOVE YOU Y/N!" 

"STOP!" You shouted getting up and walking towards him. "YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING GET IT BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP SAYING THAT! YOU HAVE TO STOP BECAUSE...BECAUSE...AGHHHH" You punched the wall overwhelmed with frustration. "Fuck." You hissed in pain as you'd hurt yourself badly by doing so. 

"sh*t are you okay." Oscar approached you trying to take your hand but you moved away. 

"Stop! Why do you do that?!" Oscar argued this time.

"I'm fine." You lied again as you noticed the bruising that had already started to form on your knuckles, your hand shaking in pain. 

"Why the fuck are you lying to me?" Oscar was almost on the verge of tears, he hated what was happening, how you wouldn't trust him anymore. "Don't you think I've noticed the way you've changed? The way you're distancing yourself from me? The way you won't even let me touch you anymore? I love you and I'm scared to lose you." Oscar's voice was shaky. 

"You can't say that." You turned around to face him again and Oscar noticed the tears stream down your cheeks. "I-" You struggled to explain. "You can't say that because it hurts me...it'll never mean what I want it to because I actually love you." You confessed, your body almost relaxing with the weight of defeat knowing this would finally change everything. 

"Well I do too." Oscar replied.

"No I mean-" You were about to argue again but Oscar stepped forward actually taking your injured hand in his this time. 

"I do too." Oscar said again as you looked up at him. "I actually truly and really love you...and that's why I'm so scared that you're slipping away from me." Oscar's voice was barely above a whisper but thanks to your closeness you could hear it perfectly. 

"Oscar I don't think-" You were still stubborn. 

"I am in love with you y/n," Oscar repeated clearly this time. "Do you get it? I love you, more than just my friend, I love you so fucking much it physically hurts because I can't love you the way I want to." 

You were speechless, you thought your mind must've been playing tricks on you because how could it be that Oscar was saying exactly what you'd wanted to hear from him for so long?

"Really?" Oscar still couldn't help but smile at how cute you sounded in disbelief. 

"Would I ever lie to you?" Oscar asked. 

"Well...yeah." You were honest laughing yourself at the fact that you and Oscar had never been this serious in your whole lives. 

"Uh true my bad, but I mean it 100%." Oscar laughed too. 

"But...how-" You still couldn't quite comprehend. 

"For fucks sake." Oscar grabbed you by the waist and pulled you towards him before kissing you. You were completely dazed, this all just felt like a dream as you responded kissing him back, the kiss more passionate than you had ever dreamed it would be. 

It both felt like it lasted seconds and an eternity before you both separated catching your breaths. You were silent for a bit as Oscar kept his face close to yours but due to his height your forehead just reached his lips. 

"Do you believe me now?" you felt Oscar's breath on your hairline as he asked. 

You laughed looking up at him. "I think so." You replied smiling up at him. 

"You think so?" He asked looking down at you...the way you had always wished he would. 

"Well yeah...I think I'm gonna need a little more convincing." You joked.

"Fine by me." Oscar leaned back down joining his lips with yours. You got lost in the kiss forgetting everything but were rudely brought back to reality by Oscar linking his fingers with yours making you yelp in pain when his fingers grazed your knuckles. 

"Sh*t sorry, way to ruin the moment." You pouted. 

Oscar pecked your pout away. "You didn't ruin anything...let's go get this checked out." He lightly kissed the top of your hand being careful not to hurt you. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the action. What was this man doing to you? 

"Okay but before we go can you kiss me again?" You shyly asked. You simply didn't want the moment to stop, the heat built up from the moment feeling unbearable all of a sudden.

Oscar laughed but gladly accepted leaning back towards you to kiss you again. This time you placed your injured hand behind Oscar's neck making sure it was out of the way.

Oscar pulled you closer by your waist deepening the kiss and daring to start using his tongue loving the way he was finally tasting you the way he'd always wanted.

You on the other hand were in a complete daze, breathing had never been so hard but it was a pleasant experience, growing more and more breathless with every movement Oscar made both with his mouth and hands.

You'd never truly understood what people meant by the phrase of your head being in the clouds until now, you literally felt like you were floating and Oscar was both the cause and the only thing keeping you grounded.

You could feel his hands slowly drift lower before they eventually cupped your ass causing you to moan into his mouth a feeling he could get drunk off.

His hands moved a little further lower where your thigh met your cheeks and as he pressed upwards you understood what he wanted. Jumping slightly Oscar carried you in his arms to the uncomfortable couch always present in his driver's room.

He placed you on your back before standing up for a few seconds his eyes scanning your body making you feel naked all of a sudden.

"Can I take these off?" Oscar asked you as he slipped his fingers through the hem of your jeans.

You nodded biting your lip at the anticipation of what was about to happen.

Oscar wasted no time in unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down leaving you in your panties, he didn't waste a second as he started running his finger over your clothed pussy making you gasp in pleasure.

"Does that feel good baby?" Oscar whispered kissing your cheeks softly.

"Mhm." was the only noise you were able to produce the high you were in making it impossible for you to physically formulate any words.

"I need you to be quiet f'me okay?" Oscar whispered again as he hooked his fingers in your panties moving them to the side before sliding his fingers through your bare pussy collecting your juices before pushing two fingers in slowly.

You tried your hardest to contain the moan that erupted in you, using Oscar as your silencer as you arched your top half off the couch capturing his lips in yours once more.

Oscar was happy to help as he continued kissing you without stopping his movement to your lower half, his fingers moving in and out of you at a quicker pace as his thumb circled your clit at a torturous pace.

"Agh Osc- I'm gonna-" Part of you was embarrassed with how quickly you were reaching your high but the pleasure was enough to distract you from the worry.

"Cum for me baby." Oscar encouraged you as he slipped his other thumb in your mouth, your mouth instinctively closing around it as Oscar's fingers moved faster inside you.

"mhm...hmmm..." You moaned loudly as your body shook with pleasure at the orgasm Oscar had just given you, as he continued fingering you through it.

"Good girl." He whispered kissing your cheeks slowly getting closer and closer to your lips before placing one last long and deep kiss on them.

You tried to regain your breath, Oscar making it difficult when he finally pulled his fingers out of you and used his mouth to clean them off.

"OSCAR WE NEED YOU!" You jumped hiding yourself in the process as there was a loud knock and voice from outside the door.

"This isn't over yet darling, please go get that checked out" Oscar pointed to your hand, smirking as he helped you pull your jeans back up placing a kiss close to your core over your jeans before winking and walking out the room leaving you completely speechless.

________ A/N:

I'm a little behind on requests so bare with me please, I see them all and I am getting through them from oldest to newest ;)

[ticklygiggles]

Late night company | Diluc x Venti

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOOOOVE ( @otomiyaa ) ❤️🎉🧁🎂 I hope you enjoy this little gift~ I'm still on time hehe ❤️

I'm wishing you the best, sweetie 🥺❤️ I loooove you so muuuch MWAH 💕❤️

Summary: 🤭🤭🤭

“Until tomorrow, Master Diluc!” 

“Yes. Have a good night.”

Slowly, the last customers began to leave, the employees yawning and wishing Diluc good night after their shift. Diluc stayed inside the tavern, finishing arranging some chairs, cleaning some tables and perhaps, doing a little inventory to see if anything was missing for tomorrow. 

He worked in silence, adjusting here and there, his cheeks a little flushed from the heat inside the tavern and his feet a little tired after having played not only bartender but also as a waiter, but being busy also kept his mind busy and there were times when he just didn't want to listen to his own thoughts. 

Luckily for him, there was something else that was still keeping his mind more occupied than the work he was doing. 

Well, actually... someone. 

He couldn't resist, his eyes just moved on their own to the bar where a very drunk Venti was talking and talking about archons know what. In fact, Diluc could barely understand half of his words. He was stuttering, unable to form very long words and slurred his speech. The r's became b's and some vowels changed sound too. It was kind of funny and cute.

It was already a habit for Diluc to have Venti accompany him until late at the tavern when everyone else had already left. At first Diluc thought it was just so he could drink more, but no matter how much he asked him to leave, Venti flatly refused, and if Diluc was honest, Venti's company didn't bother him at all. 

The nights passed like this and over time, Diluc began to notice Venti. Really notice Venti. He had a lovely face, really adorable. His blue eyes always sparkled while he talked and talked with a huge, toothy smile; his rosy cheeks looked like apples about to fall from the tree. Diluc's heart began to race at the thought of spending more time with Venti and he looked forward to every night, even his duties as a Darknight Hero were affected, but that was another story. 

In short, Diluc had fallen in love with Venti, but there was no way he was going to confess. That would be... complicated and overwhelming not only for him, but for Venti as well, plus, the bard was usually too drunk to understand a word Diluc said. It just wasn't worth it. 

“And then, and then!” Venti continued his story, his arms flailing around and his legs kicking a little. “The traveler was there and- and I was-” 

Traveler this, traveler that. He certainly didn't make any sense, but his face lit up at the mere mention of the traveler. It bothered him. He has never been a jealous person, not even when Kaeya came into his life, but now... why did he feel that way? 

“And then, the traveler grabbed his sword and-”

“You've been staying overnight for almost a month.” His voice came out a little too abrupt and dry. Venti finally stopped talking and the silence was deafening. 

Venti tilted his head to the side. “And?” 

“And?” Diluc put down the rag he was wiping down a table to look at Venti, his arms crossed over his chest. “You haven't paid me. Not even a single day. Do you think you can drink for free just because you stay late?” 

He didn't really care, but making this scene had worked to get Venti's dazed brain to stop thinking about the traveler. Diluc took it as a victory. 

“I thought you liked me keeping you company.” Venti pouted and Diluc felt the tips of his ears heating up and his heart tingled when Venti giggled. “I will pay you, definitely!”

Diluc raised an eyebrow. “Will you now?”

“Yes! I'll definitely pay you… with a performance!” 

Diluc's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. The bard laughed nervously and it seemed like his cheeks had reddened even more. Diluc looked at him for a moment and then walked over, stopping right in front of him. 

“A foolish performance isn't enough to settle your debt." Diluc leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the bar, caging Venti in his arms. Venti leaned back as far as he could, stuttering as he tried to speak again. 

“W-What are you s-saying! My performances are a-always s-so- so good!” The bitter smell of alcohol hit his nose and he wrinkled it slightly, it was a smell he had never liked, however, in Venti, Diluc thought it wasn't so terrible. The bard gulped and Diluc saw his pretty eyes moving from side to side, looking for a way out of his predicament. 

He didn't seem as dizzy as he had been a few moments ago, but his brain really couldn't handle his own limbs yet.

“Th-Then, I'll-” His warm breath hit Diluc's cheeks again. Now that he thought about it, his cheeks not only looked like apples, Venti also smelled like one. “I'll p-pay you with-”

“Your body.” 

Silence reigned and Diluc was sure Venti had stopped breathing as his eyes widened. His heart was also beating hard and now the shells of his ears started to get warm, but he tried to act calm. He let out a soft chuckle and his hands closed around the other's waist. Venti squealed and he kicked a bit, but Diluc easily lifted him up and sat him on top of the bar, placing himself between his legs as he pulled Venti’s body closer to him. 

“W-What are you d-doing?!” Venti squirmed, his cheeks and ears reddening. “M-Master Diluc, this is not appropriate, I- I can't pay you with my body… here.” 

“Yes you can,” Diluc said calmly, just a couple of centimeters away from Venti's face, their noses almost touching, their breathing mingling. “And you will.” He moved a little closer to Venti's face. Diluc felt him tense, his breathing quickening as his eyes closed tightly. What was Venti expecting exactly? He couldn't help but feel butterflies. 

Diluc smiled softly as his hands began to move on Venti's waist, tickling him. 

Venti jolted and gasped and Diluc fought the urge to laugh when he saw him opening his eyes wide as his lips started to tremble into a smile. “What- what are y-you- no! Nohoho! Why?!”

“Hmm? Didn't I say you'd pay with your body?” 

“Not like this!” Venti's hands wrapped around Diluc's wrists, trying to push his hands away. 

“Oh? Did you have anything else in mind?” He smirked, his hands squeezing Venti's tiny waist. “Please do tell me what it was.” 

Venti's face turned incredibly red and Diluc couldn't help but blush as well as his heart skipped a beat. However, his hands did not stop for even a moment, he wiggled his fingers up and down Venti's sides, squeezing here and there to make him squeal and jolt as if he had been touched by electricity. 

Venti was laughing wildly, trying to make Diluc stop, his smile was really huge and his nose was scrunching up a little, making him look even more adorable and carefree. His laughter was so bubbly and funny, Diluc had to chuckle himself as his fingers gently dug into Venti's ribs, pinching and rubbing each bone, causing Venti to squeal and cackle and arch his back. 

“M-Master Diluc!” He gasped between laughs. “I c-cahahan't!” 

“We’re not even halfway through it.” Diluc moved down to Venti's tummy and Venti giggled brightly, curling forward, his forehead resting against Diluc's shoulder. “At this rate, I'll have to do this for weeks until you pay me off.”

Venti shook his head, unable to speak as Diluc vibrated his fingers against the center of his stomach and he laughed and laughed like a little kid. His hands still desperately tried to push Diluc's away and cover the spots Diluc went after. 

“Tch.” The tickling suddenly stopped, but Venti could barely relax before Diluc grabbed his wrists with his hands. “These pesky hands are on the way, don't you think?” 

“H-Huh?! N-Noho! They're d-dohoing their work defending me from your pesky finge-e-ehehers! Lehehet gohoho!” 

Diluc gathered both Venti's wrists in one of his hands behind Venti's back, exposing his torso completely to his tickly fingers. The bard tried to fight him off, but Diluc's grip was like iron and so Venti could only kick his legs and squirm from side to side like a little fish out of water. He looked at Venti fondly, his smile gentle. Oh, he was so head over heels for him. He really, really liked him. He really wasn't going to do anything about it? 

“AHAHAHA! Not thehere! Nohohot there!”

“Stop moving.” 

Diluc's hand had found Venti's armpit. His fingers wiggled, dug and vibrated against the spot, making Venti shriek with laughter, little tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. His head low, face so close to Diluc's. So close, he could angle his head up just slightly and their lips would meet. Just… a slightly… tilt of his head and…

The laughter suddenly ended and a sharp breath echoed through the Angel's share as Diluc pressed his lips against Venti's smiling mouth. Diluc closed his eyes, his lips parting slightly to poke his tongue out and touch Venti's lips. Venti gasped, opening his mouth and Diluc pushed his tongue in, kissing him deeply, one hand holding Venti's waist, pulling him close. The other was still holding his hands behind his back. 

The bitter taste of alcohol filled his mouth, but he couldn't care less. That felt so good. Pleasant chills ran up and down Diluc's spine, his heart hammering against his ribcage, he was sure Venti could feel it because he could feel Venti's. The bard seemed to have turned to jelly in his arms. His body practically melted against Diluc's, kissing him slowly and gasping softly every time the tip of Diluc's tongue touched the roof of his mouth. 

Diluc also felt like jelly, his knees shaking a little and his hands trembling. He didn't want to stop, what would happen next? He didn't want to know, but Venti was already breathless from laughing so much and Diluc was scared he would pass out from the lack of oxygen, so he slowly pulled apart, enough to look at Venti's eyes, their noses gently touching. 

Venti opened his eyes slowly and he blinked a couple of times, the tears falling down his cheeks. Diluc didn't know what to say, but he was glad Venti did:

“T-That kiss was worth like one m-month of payment.” 

Diluc widened his eyes slightly before letting out a bright laugh. “Yeah… I guess you're right.” He let go of Venti's hands and he quickly wrapped his arms around Diluc's neck, bringing him closer to him. Diluc gasped, holding onto the bar. 

“Now I really want to pay you with my body, you know?” Venti smirked, leaning close to Diluc's ear. “And I'm not talking about tickling, Master Diluc.” 

Diluc breath hitched. He shuddered, feeling Venti's warm lips against the erratic pulse on the side of his neck and then his hot tongue licking a path to the hollow under his ear, making him whimper slightly. 

“... Don't forget about this in the morning.” Diluc whispered, his hands untying Venti's corset. 

He giggled. “I won't, Master Diluc. How could I?” 

Diluc was going to have to clean the bar again, but it didn't matter. Not when Venti was making sounds that sent shivers down his spine and his soft skin felt like silk against Diluc's. 

Venti looked at his eyes and smiled. “I like you, Master Diluc.”

Diluc smiled back and kissed him deeply. Yeah, he liked him too. Very much. 

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter Three

Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 4,4k

Warnings | +18, trouble for MC is not over, use of a dating app to look for someone, Jungkook is absolutely cute and sexy, kisses, fluff

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️

I apologize to all of you who have waited so long for chapter third to arrive, I'm really sorry, but life has been really hectic and I'm also working on many other stories, so I hope you enjoy the chapter now 😭💕

Let me know what you think, I always love your comments ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @peterstarkchrishiddleston @reallygenerouskoala @btsuga-d @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @velvet-stardust2002 @ke1k029 @kylafox09 @pantara @takemeaway5402

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You're going to kill Park Jimin.

It's been a whole week since that party and you're still spinning in your head his words, which had the effect of making you even more depressed.

“In truth ... they specifically told me that they don't believe our relationship, they will only believe it when we go to their house for lunch.”

The idea of spending time with them again haunts you, Jimin had said one evening. One.

Yet, you still have to help him, because his parents did not see passion from both of you, you were blatantly fake in their opinion.

Well, kudos to Father and Mother Park, you certainly don't lack the nose like bloodhounds!

But why at their home of all places? Are they going to secretly feed you to their servants? You shudder just thinking about it. They are certainly up to something, Jimin repeats to you that you should stay calm, but it is easy for him to talk. You are nothing to them, just a dirt stain on their perfect son's shirt.

You must be eliminated somehow.

But the worst thing about all those days spent thinking and agonizing between you and you is the wrong idea that Jungkook may have gotten about you.

Shit, he's just a guy you met briefly at a party, so why can't you get him out of your head?

You always think back to the way he held you close, to his cautious and sweet look whenever he tried a more direct approach with you... and there they are, the damn butterflies! They don't leave you alone for a moment, your wormy little brain even dares to loop back his last words, before Jimin cursed Park ruined the atmosphere.

You roll over on the bed hugging your faithful stuffed animal you've been carrying around since childhood, gazing into his inane black eyes, you sigh.

“What should I do, Little Sunshine?” but the teddy bear, predictably, does not answer you.

He has left without deigning you another glance, perhaps seeing you there with Jimin he must have thought of who knows what, they know each other and must know of your best friend's reputation as a womanizer.

You violently plant a hand in your face, long ago to fuck Jimin it was enough to be his acquaintance, it wasn't necessary to get up to girlfriend status, you may have said Jimin is just a friend ... but in someone else's eyes there may still be a possibility that the two of you are some sort of fuck buddies.

Besides, why else would a human like you willingly accompany a vampire like Jimin?

You feel like screaming like crazy, you don't just do it because you sense your phone ringing in the darkness of the room.

You try to compose yourself, imagining it was a business call, but it turns out to belong to your best friend.

You stare at the phone screen with tears in your eyes almost.

<<Ellen!>> you shout, on the other side your friend whines, <<My sweetest Ellen! You called at just the right time>>.

<<You scream like that again and I'll block the phone in your face!>>.

You ignore her empty threat and begin to tell her what happened with Jimin and about the meeting with Jungkook, omitting nothing. By the end of the explanation you are out of breath and your eyes are glazed over, why do you have to feel that way about a stranger? What is happening to you.

<<Let me understand... Jimin asked you to be his fake girlfriend and this Jungkook, whom you described as more handsome than a normal vampire, flirted with you for at least half an hour or so and then left offended?>>.

You frown, <<He didn't flirt with me! He was just being nice...>>.

You hear a laugh stifled on the other end of the line, <<I used to say the same about Shawn and look at him now, chained to me in the sacred bond of marriage>> a smile escapes you… actually it doesn't sound bad.

<<What should I do?>> you ask more to yourself than to her.

<<Uhm... you said he works with Seokjin, right? Isn't Seokjin the creator of Vampire's Kiss? Maybe he's on that site too, try looking for him... and maybe contact him, they even created a very convenient app!>> you widen your eyes. Sure! That could work...

<<But what if he doesn't want to hear from me? I mean, he didn't leave on the best of terms, surely he must have thought of something strange>>.

<<Take your balls out and look for him! You said you felt something different next to him, right? Don't let such an opportunity pass you by, what you felt doesn't happen to everyone ... and for your sanity and mine too, put your mind at rest once and for all>>.

You nod, she has a point, then you hear her stifle a shriek.

<<Wait a minute! ... You said that just looking at him turned you on-!>> you close the call in half a second, redder than a tomato! There, that thing you might as well have avoided revealing it to her, even if it simply slipped out of your mouth without realizing it ... such a thing has never happened to you, neither with humans nor with vampires, that was a detail as embarrassing as it was surprising.

You make a decision and install Vampire's Kiss on your cell phone, the app's simple and intuitive screen allows you to enter your account right away, go to the purple heart with the magnifying glass and search for Jeon Jungkook.

The results are immediate and the search leads you to no less than five users, but only one is the one that immediately hits you like a bouquet of soft flowers in the middle of your face.

He is right there, posing for a photo taken in the middle of a summer day, not at all concerned about possible sunburn, and you smile instinctively at his caption, which is short and absolutely adorable.

So your impression was right, this is a good guy. You zoom in on the photo and look admiringly at the sunlight softly shining on him, he is also smiling and without thinking about it you take a screenshot, do you look crazy? Probably yes, but your chest tightens at the idea of not being able to see him every day.

It's really crazy... it's just a stranger.

But you and this stranger have one thing in common. The two of you are desperate for love, to the point of signing up for a dating site to find it, your finger trembling, undecided whether to press your purple heart to follow him and thus engage in conversation with him or just drop everything and move on from your lightning-fast meeting at the party.

You turn off the phone with a sigh. Even if you wanted to try, you are nothing compared to him. You would only have wasted his precious time.

“But seeing you there, under the moonlight, I-”

You shake your head violently, it's no use daydreaming, he didn't even finish the sentence. That only indicates one thing, that it was not meant for you two to continue the acquaintance, period.

Suddenly an annoying noise starts from your stomach, you cast a glance at the time -- 2:11 p.m., you haven't even had lunch and there is nothing edible in the fridge, in short, the typical life of a single career woman. But below the house there are several small stores open 24 hours a day that sell noodles and allow you to cook them immediately after purchase. Yes, you would have graciously taken advantage of their services, that is also the beauty of living in Korea, every place becomes home.

You turn on the light and look around for your shoes, heedless of the eyes burning at the sudden impact.

Next mission: don't starve.

You look thoughtfully at the shelf stuffed with packages of noodles, there are all flavors and colors, but maybe you'll have to buy some instant cook rice too to satiate your stomach more, and speaking of your stomach, you hear it growling once again.

Ungrateful, why doesn't it give you time to think?

You grab a packet of spicy chicken-flavored noodles on the fly, then reconsider -- better two.

Excited to eat, you jump merrily without looking over your shoulder, like the clueless fool that you are, you feel your head collide with something sharp and immediately see the stars in the middle of the convenience store, a stifled moan escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut trying to chase that pain away, being interrupted by another unexpected moan of distress.

You turn back to the source and notice a boy behind you, head down, you can just make out a wonderful mass of dark, wavy hair.

You blanch, your own flushes of pain sidelined. Did you hurt him? Medical bills are fucking expensive.

"I-I'm sorry! Did I hurt you very much? I didn't want to, believe me."

The boy makes a strange noise, as if he has suddenly held his breath, then slowly his head rises and you find yourself going wide-eyed.

In front of you Jungkook in casual clothes and a jacket far larger than his own size is holding his chin with one hand.

“Gosh, you knocked me out,” he chuckles with difficulty, removes his hand and you see a red spot take shape on that area of smooth, soft skin, “I didn't think I'd find you here....”

You're frozen, you can't utter a single word, the only thing that assures you you're still alive is the slow pulsing of the bump on your head, but is this guy made of granite or what? A very sexy granite, of that there is no doubt.

"I didn't... I didn't think so either” for the simple fact that not even twenty minutes earlier you looked him up on a dating app, then clandestinely saved his picture like a poor desperate spinster.

"Are you okay? I think you were the one who got the hardest hit,” he asks worriedly, out of the corner of your eye you notice how his hand tries to rise, but he instantly lowers it, you gloss over the incident by waving yours away.

"No, absolutely! I'm fine, I'm so sorry, I'm stupid,” you mutter to yourself, feeling guilty.

You see him looking around carefully, “I'll get you some ice, wait here!” not even time to tell him to let it go, it vanishes in an instant.

You lower your eyes to the packages of noodles, “This happened because I never buy real food, right?”

You both find yourselves so seated face to face in front of the convenience store, you're uncomfortably pressing ice on what appears to be quite a bloody good bump. Jungkook just stares at you with that innocent look on his face, is he seriously a vampire?

You take the floor, trying to fill that uncomfortable silence, deliberately ignoring the palpitations of your heart, “Does it still hurt?” you point to his chin, which seems to have returned to normal coloring, in fact he denies it.

“It's okay, for us vampires pain is momentary, we heal quickly.”

Okay, now what?

There, meeting him was not some kind of miracle, but a curse.

"Um... you look different, I mean... with these clothes you look normal, no wait! I mean you look great even without clothes, No! T-those elegant clothes! But you look fabulous even like this, really!” you stumble over your own words and god, you want to hole up in some dirty hole on top of a remote mountain. You look great without clothes, really?!

“Hey, hey, don't worry, you look very good in your normal clothes too,” he smiles amused, then changes his expression, “Did you have a good time at the party when I left? I apologize for how I left you, I don't usually go to parties and I don't know how to behave,” he explains, his voice sounds colorless, different from the sweet voice he used before and even during your first meeting.

Something has been bothering him and you even know what it is, or at least you think so. You shouldn't worry about it, but you like him and want to clear it up.

You take a breath, “Jungkook, I don't know what you thought seeing me there with Jimin, but I assure you we're just friends, there's no romantic or ... well, sexual interest,” you just want to calm him down, but evidently your words have the opposite effect, because he whitens starting to gasp.

“Oh god, I made you feel like a lowlife, didn't I?” he puts his hands to his face shaking his head, “I'm just an idiot, you don't have to pay attention to me,” he complains with his forehead pressed against the surface of the table.

"You didn't make me feel like a lowlife! I just wanted to make it clear that I didn't lie to you, I was really there to accompany Jimin” maybe it's best not to specify the plan that brought you there that night.

But the boy continues to shake his head, at times in despair, “I never thought you had lied to me or anything...” he raises his eyes to you fearfully, “I was just... disappointed, your knight for the evening had returned and my company therefore no longer needed, that's it, I was disappointed and envious,” he chuckles exasperatedly, most likely at himself.

You feel the same pleasant grip on your heart as a smile makes its way across your features. Should you tell him?

Maybe it's not such a bad idea after all, you would have loved him even in case of rejection, he seems like a really good person.

“I'd like to tell you a secret...” you start by saying and immediately come back with a straight back, in his eyes you can glimpse ill-concealed curiosity, “I too felt disappointed... my real knight left that night, leaving me with one of his underlings,” you sigh sadly.

“That knight may have felt he was in over his head in that situation,” he says embarrassed, but you shake your head.

“He shouldn't have left me there, it's his duty to make sure I'm okay!” you don't know where all that courage came from, you just feel it's the right thing to do.

He tilts his head to the side, biting his lower lip with what you identify as a canine, the soft scarlet skin drooping under his pressure, but not tearing. Images and thoughts of what he could have done to you with those luscious lips of his leap into your head, adding to all the erotic dreams you've had over the past few nights, they always knocked treacherously, but you let them in willingly.

“Even this knight has a secret to confess” he leans toward you, enough to breathe your own air just inches away, you remain in awe of his deep irises, where you catch a vermilion flash, “Wasn't the moon beautiful that night” you begin to cough because of your own saliva, you didn't expect such a statement, not from someone like him toward someone like you. You beautiful? Is he really saying that? The darkness must have been to blame, the moon cannot be darkened by a mere human, he must have seen wrong.

But wait… vampires see in the dark as nocturnal predators, don't they?

A grin from him surprises you and you also understand the motivation behind it, after all, the rush of excitement your body undergoes is not ignorable. Now you also have confirmation that vampires perfectly sense a person's emotional and physical changes.

You try to compose yourself, bringing a lock of your hair behind your ear, he remains firm in his position.

“I like you, I've done nothing but think about you, do I have a chance?” his bluntness amazes you in no small part, he is showing much more courage than any other man who would have gone around us instead.

You swallow, not knowing what exactly to answer, so you try with resolving one of your doubts, “Y-You know I'm human, right?”

It seems a silly thing to ask, but it's very important to you that he knows what he's getting into, you two have different rhythms and abilities, you don't want him to feel stuck in a relationship too different from the ones he was used to with women of his own kind.

But his eyes soften, you feel you can also calm down.

“Of course, I knew right away...the sound of your heart beating is something I couldn't give up, your skin is warm and it warms mine,” he takes your hand between his, the ice falling to the ground from your shock. Doesn't he care about that? “Can we at least try?”

In that instant you realize that you cannot give up on him so easily, you nod contentedly as your eyes glaze over, incredulous that such a thing could have happened to you.

From that moment you continued to go out every day, especially at night hours, as he wrote in his profile on Vampire's Kiss, he loves to take walks under the dark sky and he also took his dog, Bam, with him from time to time. You, who usually prefer cats, found no difficulty in falling in love with that handsome, hyperactive dog, so similar to his daddy in both physique and character.

You and Jungkook are now hand in hand at the seashore, neither of you speaking, simply listening to the sound of the waves calmly crashing on the shoreline.

You see him lying comfortably on the sand, heedless of the grains that go to hide in every fold of his comfortable clothes, without much thought you follow his example.

It is nice to gaze at the stars like that, but turning your head in his direction you find yourself thinking that the best show is there by your side.

Unlike you, he has never looked away from you, you have literally found the boy of your dreams, “What is it?” you ask with a laugh in your voice, he doesn't answer right away, settling on his side.

“I feel a little confused,” he replies, frowning a little worriedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I love this beach at night, but the only thing I can think about is you next to me, it's a little confusing to me, now whenever I come here without you, I'm sure I'll be thinking about you nonstop.”

You watch his face engulfed in darkness, yet you can make out the brightness of his eyes; he is a nocturnal predator, you lift yourself up on one arm to get a better look at him.

“Who says you'll come back here without me?”

He inhales sharply, “Don't say such things, don't make promises you can't keep, baby,” he hisses an inch from your face, he has never called you that. Sometimes you forget that he is an adult vampire, much older than you. You like being called that by him, with Jimin it's a game... with Jungkook it's something more intimate.

"Why, Jungkook... Have I been giving you a lot to think about these days?” you are literally talking on his lips, clenching a fistful of sand tightly, the urge to kiss him is becoming more and more pressing, but he shakes his head, pulling away suddenly.

“You always make me think a lot of things, but no ... you don't have anything to do with it, it's just that all my relationships have ended one way,” he laughs without humor, “That is, with a broken heart, mine. It's funny coming from a vampire who doesn't have a heart, isn't it? Or at least, not as alive as you humans',” he explains with a look up at the sky. No, you can't believe it, it's impossible that there is someone who can leave such a boy.

"Are you so convinced that this will also apply with me? If that's really the case, then why have we come to this point?” if he believes it will end badly, why the hell did he invite you on all these dates?

He shrugs, “I've never dated a human girl, I look good with you! I would never say otherwise, but...."

Sighing, “You're afraid,” you finish for him, “But you know what? I have never dated a vampire guy, yet I want to give myself and him a chance, even if it ends badly, with him now I want to think it will be okay."

Silence falls between you, you return with your back to the sand, unsure of what just happened.

Perhaps you have both gone too far in such a short time? Oh... maybe he wants more space for himself, that's why he talked about going to the beach alone, your lips begin to tremble.

“Jungkook... maybe I'd better go home,” you murmur, rising slightly again in search of your bag and shoes, but a hand on your arm stops you instantly.

"What? Why?” he stares at you like a lost puppy, unable to understand your intentions.

“Maybe I rushed you too much, I'm sorry,” you try to wriggle your arm still in his grip, but all you get from it is an imprecation from him that makes your eyes go wide, he has never cursed in front of you, and before you can say anything to him you see his figure descend entirely on you, just like the vampires in the old movies, with only one difference, at that moment he is not interested in your blood.

His moist lips make contact with yours without hesitation, you accept them willingly using your free arm to anchor yourself to his blemish-free neck, you close your eyelids inhaling his wonderful scent, crushing his weight on you as if your very life depended on it, he lets you do it by filling your lips with numerous small kisses in the mold, your heart threatens to melt under all that tenderness and you note with happiness the softness of his lips that taste like cherries, not resisting you lightly grasp a flap of his lower lip between your teeth, savoring it on your tongue.

His shoulders shake and he releases your arm from his grip so you can sink a hand into your hair, this encourages you to do the same with his, enjoying his little moan. Jungkook with an extra bit of resourcefulness deepens the kiss, tapping his tongue against the seam of your lips, which you open willingly to his passage.

You kiss him as you've never kissed in your life, in your chest a soft warmth pushes to bring you to accept him in his entirety, your eyes moisten from that almost suffocating instinct, it has an effect on you that you can't even imagine. It scares you a little, but that is bearable if it means keeping his taste alive on your lips.

He separates from you slowly, “I've been dying to do this,” he whispers an inch from your noses, you take a big breath.

“So it's okay?” you whisper, you don't want barriers between you two, it's hard enough to accept the fact that you are not yet an actual couple.

He brings his head to your chest, resting his ear exactly over your beating heart, then nods.

“I think I've lost hope, every woman I've had wanted different things from me, mainly money and sex, then there were the ones who wanted to own me in everything... I've just come to a dead end after all these years, it's not easy for me to open up now.”

Gently you stroke those locks from which only a sweet floral scent comes, “Jimin said you never attend parties like that.”

“It's not easy for me to stand by and watch couples who are doing much better than me,”he look up with huge eyes, almost as if you want to express something very obvious, “I'm a very envious guy, you know?” you burst out laughing, sounding like a child, and lean slightly toward him to print a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.

He looks surprised and awkward for a moment, then returns to hide his expression.

“I'm talking seriously, and you go and do things like that,” he mumbles, shrugging.

“You're so cute,” you whine, he lets out a grunt.

“A little human talking like that to a vampire much older than she is.”

A question mark the size of a house makes room in your mind, “I've been wondering this for a while... how old are you?”

You hear him smiling at you.

“S.e.c.r.e.t,” he punctuates nicely, before lifting himself up on his arms and planting another soft kiss on you, “I'll tell you my age, if we're good together.”

You arch an eyebrow, “On Vampire's Kiss you wrote twenty-five, so I already know how old you are,” you say in an offended tone.

He shakes his head, “Twenty-five years I've been living in Seoul, baby.... We vampires tend to fake our age so as not to scare you humans."

Oh dear. He always has an answer for everything!

“All right, how long would you be willing to make me wait?” he clearly pretends to think about it, his expression too theatrical, but you let him. You find that side of him really adorable and would never try to change it in any way.

“A hundred days, a hundred days and you'll know who you've decided to spend your life with,” he chuckles, wrinkling his nose, nodding in agreement.

“A hundred days.”

You both don't know each other very well yet, but already hearing him say such a sentence sent your heart to heaven, and the butterflies in your stomach to a valley in bloom.

How much more can you like Jeon Jungkook?

[citrusses]

As you know, I am the president of your fan club, but I'm willing to take the hat off for five minutes so that you can answer this question:

What do you think is the best thing you've written, and why do you like it? Could be an entire fic, a scene, or a single sentence.

Putting my hat back on now 💕💕

My darling couch! My beloved sofa! My deity of furniture! As YOU know I am the president of YOUR fan club (i have defied the laws of physics in my speed clicking on subscriber emails about your fics) and I’m delighted to get this question. Did that make it easy to answer? NO!

But for you I will answer! I enjoyed revisiting the below scene from Our Objective Remains Unchanged (commentary below the cut - or potentially not, I’m on mobile and it’s giving me trouble)

They hadn’t trained with only each other in months. The Thames was drifting towards the rising sun, the sky above mottled purple like a bruise. Harry felt a pang of nostalgia for Michaelmas term.   

He and Draco hadn’t even known each other back then. Not really. 

They grabbed a double scull and pushed out into the river, their strokes through the water leisurely. 

“You know,” Harry said, “if I had any talent for poetry, I think I’d want to write it about the Thames.”

“You wouldn’t be the first, Potter.” 

“Yes, I’m completely unoriginal and uncultured, you’ve mentioned before. Shut up, I’m trying to say something.” He could see Draco’s shoulders shaking in amusement. “I’d write about the Thames in Wallingford, in the morning, when the sky is more grey than blue, and the water and the whole world are waiting for the sun to light them up. But it’s so beautiful, the potential of what’s to come.”

“It is beautiful,” Draco said softly. 

“That colour—it’s the same as your eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”

Draco made a little, sharp sound—like he was fighting a quick twist of pain. Harry let go of one of the oars to take Draco’s hand with his own, and Draco surprised him by clutching back tightly for a moment before dropping it.

It’s a sentimental one! But I like it for a number of reasons. This comes at a point in the story where we’re building towards a crucial, action-heavy scene (the Boat Race) and I think the slowness of this scene is a good counterpoint to the faster pacing of the events around them. There’s also (I hope!) a decent amount of payoff of the relationship they’ve been building to here — Harry attempting to relate to Draco through his love of poetry and Draco reciprocating the non-sexual physical affection he’s been hesitant to give Harry up to this point. They also are NOT saying a lot here, which I am always weak for. Finally, this parallels an earlier scene that I also very much like.

I hope I picked well! I’m honored to get this ask from you ❤️❤️❤️

[castle-of-ruin]

A/N: Hi! So, this story has been in the works forever. I've always wanted to write for Deacon. I've always wanted to write Bodyguard!Deacon specifically. It's something I've thought about from the very beginning of my journey with Swat. I find it important to clarify that this is an au. The events that take place in this story are completely and utterly my own. They are made up and not true. I hope that, as readers, you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Bodyguard!Deacon x f!Reader

Reminder: This is a bodyguard au. It in no way relates to the actual plot of Swat.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, violence, death threats. There are no explicit descriptions of the readers' body type or other features. Brief use of the word 'her', reader is not named, and there is no use of y/n. Mutual pining, use of the word sweetheart.

Other characters: Jim Street, Dominique Luca, Daniel "Hondo" Harrelson

Word Count - 3.2k

Author's Note 2: If I forgot any content warnings please let me know. Once again I hope anyone who reads this story enjoys you. Feedback, reblogs, comments, likes are all welcome and much appreciated. I'm really putting myself out there by posting this story. It's personal and something I'm so passionate about. Happy Reading!!

Disclaimer: I do not condone people taking my work and reposting it as their own. Do not steal my work.

Adding some visual inspiration for the people who care💕

In the Beginning 

When you first began working with criminals, you never expected your life to be threatened. Sure, there were risks of taking a job like this, but all you were asked to do was to determine whether or not a person was classified as fit to go to trial. That meant oftentimes you had to postpone hearings and trials due to a person's mental capacity. 

You understood how upsetting it could be and you understood why people would blame you for justice not being brought forward. It was easy to empathize with those people, but it didn't mean your life needed to be in danger. 

The first night your life was threatened you were just getting home from a grueling day in the office. Your feet ached and your stomach grumbled. Upon your arrival home you found a note taped to your front door. You tilted your head inspecting the letter before you ripped it off the door. Bile rose in your throat as you read the letter. 

I will kill you for what you've done 

The note was scribbled haphazardly and hardly legible, but you were well aware of what it said. Never in your four years of working had you needed to go to the cops. People you'd worked with time and time again. 

The Los Angeles Police Department was unhelpful when it came to answering your pleas. It wasn't until you went to your childhood friend Jim Street that you were finally heard. 

You hadn't seen Jim in over 3 years. After he left for swat the two of you hadn't had much time to get together anymore. You spoke occasionally, but had no time to really see each other anymore. 

When you showed up at his door he was surprised to see you. The greeting was cut short, you were rushed and scared. As you explained everything to Jim, Luca, Jim's roommate and coworker listened carefully. He was actively trying to think of a way to get you helped out. 

"What about Deac's security business?" He piped in. 

The two of them looked at one another.

They spoke briefly to one another about their old coworker. Explaining to you how Deacon departed from SWAT and took up doing security details full time. You nodded as you listened to them. It wasn't a bad idea, but you didn't know how long it would be before something would take place. 

As if they heard you in your head they had already made the phone call. Luca spoke briefly with someone on the phone, you assumed it was Deacon. Jim smiled softly at you, trying his best to give you some kind of comfort. 

You stayed with Jim and Luca while you waited for Deacon to arrive. You felt safe with them and you took advantage of the opportunity to rest. With eyes closed you lulled to sleep for the first time in days. 

Your slumber was rudely interrupted by a warm hand on your shoulder. The action made you jump, and your eyes searched for the culprit. Jim smiled at you sheepishly, apologizing with his eyes more so than with words. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He told you. 

"It's okay, just, jumpy is all." He nodded his head in understanding. 

"He's here." Jim stated. 

You got up and followed Jim out of the den and back into the living room. Luca talked to another man, you assumed it was Deacon. 

Luca turned when he saw you come into the room. His face lit up, he had already accepted you as one of his people. 

"Hey Deac, this is her." He patted the man on the shoulder and he turned to face you and Jim. 

You hadn't paid him much attention before he turned, but you were shocked to say the least. He was a surprisingly handsome man, and it made your heart pound in your chest. 

In the few seconds before Luca introduced the two of you, you allowed your eyes to trace over him. The hair on his head was mostly gray aside from the occasional dark strand here and there, his beard joined in the majority of gray. The black t-shirt he wore hid no ounce of his muscled form. You wondered if he wore a shirt two sizes too small on purpose.

A clearing of a throat disturbed your thoughts. You blinked rapidly and pulled your eyes away from Deacon. Luca introduced the two of you and you shook Deacon's hand. Heat creeped up your neck as he stared down at you, with a soft smile. 

The smile slowly faded and he crossed his arms over his chest becoming serious. 

"Luca tells me you need some protection? Care to explain the story to me a little bit?" He asked. 

You nodded, and took a seat on Luca and Jim's couch. You explained the story to him as thoroughly as you could. Jim grabbed your shoulder in comfort a couple of times when the emotions overwhelmed you. 

"This isn't the usual detail my team and I take on, but you're a friend of a friend. I'll make sure you're safe. I'll work on this personally." He nodded to you and to Jim. 

Tears welled in your eyes. 

"Thank you Deacon." He smiled and nodded again. 

"Of course. Now, first things first. You need a safe house of some sort while I work with my team to track down the people after you. Is there somewhere you can think of that won't be public knowledge?" He asked you. 

You thought about it for a moment before you nodded. 

"I do.”

Present 

The cabin air was frigid as you made your way back inside. Placing the firewood in its rightful place you take a piece and set it on the fire. Rubbing your hands together you enjoy the warmth seeping into your skin. A car pulling into the driveway draws your attention away from the fire. 

Getting up you make your way to the window on high alert. Your guard falls when you spot Deacon getting out of his car. You watch as he scans the area before coming to the front door. He knocks twice on the door and you go over to it to open it. 

When he enters he hands you the bag in his hand. 

"What's this?" You ask. 

Deacon smiles softly, "Dessert." He states and you peer inside. 

Your smile widens upon seeing apple pie and vanilla ice cream in the bag. 

"Damn, Deacon, I'm surprised you got something so unhealthy." You laugh. 

He shakes his head, "I eat ice cream." 

"Doesn't look like it." You mutter to yourself. 

"What did you say?" He asks. 

"Nothing. Ignore me." You shake your head. 

Taking the bag into the kitchen you unload everything into the freezer.  You notice dishes still left over from this morning in the sink and go over to wash them. Under the running water your thoughts drift over the past 2 months. 

It felt like nothing was happening. You felt stuck, and frozen. Like a prisoner with nowhere else to go. This was meant to be for your own protection, but being stuck in your family's old cabin in the woods was driving you to madness. Plus, being stuck here with Deacon, alone for all hours of the day was testing every amount of strength and willpower you have. Which was just about none when it came to the older man. 

Since the beginning of month 2 things have felt different between the two of you. In month one Deacon wouldn't even sit on the same couch as you. He always sat in the chair furthest from you at the small table in the dining room, and he never looked at you for a moment more than necessary. 

Now, something was different.

He sits next to you on the couch and actually joins you when you watch tv. Now, he doesn't hide his lingering gaze, nor does he sit in the chair furthest from you when you eat. The subtle changes in his behavior drove you mad. 

From the very beginning you were heavily attracted to him. Now, even more so. 

"Hey," Deacon's voice draws you from your thoughts. 

"You okay?" He asks. Coming forward and leaning against the counter. 

Your eyes are drawn to the way his arms bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest. You gulp and look away. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

He chuckles and leans forward, your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He switches the water off and leans back against the counter. You let out a breath and close your eyes. 

"You were washing the same dish for 10 minutes. Obviously something is wrong." He states. 

"10 minutes?" You ask and he nods. 

You let out a deep sigh and grip the edge of the sink. Tears well in your eyes and you decide not to hold them back any longer. You let yourself cry and put your head in your hands as you lean on the sink. Deacon touches your back and you allow yourself to lean into it. He rubs soothing circles on your back and allows you to cry. 

After a while you sniffle and wipe your face. 

"I'm sorry." You wipe at your eyes and look over at him. 

His smile is sad as he looks at you. Deacon swipes a stray tear from your cheeks and cups your face in his hand. He leans in as if he's going to kiss you but, then the moment is broken when something clicks in his head and he pulls away clearing his throat. 

"Don't be sorry. I'm gonna go contact my team. See if there's any updates." With that he exits the kitchen. 

Fuck. You think to yourself.

For the rest of the day Deacon avoided you like the plague. It made you feel even worse than you already did. Loneliness pangs in your chest as you sit on the couch and aimlessly scroll through the channels. 

Deacon busts into the room and you jump. 

"We have to go now." He states, throwing your jacket at you. 

Jumping to your feet you throw the jacket on and follow Deacon to the back of the cabin. You grip his jacket tightly in your hand trying to stay close to him. He turns and looks at you, pressing one of his fingers to his lips. 

He opens the door quietly and inches out slowly. Deacon grasps your hand in his and drags you out into the woods. The two of you run for a while before he stops. 

"You see that ridge up there?" He asks pointing. 

"Yes," You pause looking at him. 

"Go. Get up there and hide. Don't come out until I come get you." He instructs. 

You grip his arm. "Deacon, what if you don't come back?" 

He grips his phone in his back pocket and places it in your hands. 

"Call, Street. Tell him where we are. Tell him to send the team." He states. 

You nod, with tear filled eyes, and trembling lips. Releasing his hand you take off up the hill and hide. Pulling Deacons phone out of your pocket you dial Jim. 

"Hey Deac," 

"Jim, it's me. Deacon told me to tell you to send the team. Hurry Jim. I'm scared." You sob. 

"Where are you?" He rushes out. 

"Near the Oregon border." You stutter out. 

"Keep the line open, we're tracking Deac's phone." You nod, but he can't see you. 

Gunshots could be heard in the distance. Tears fall freely now, rolling down your cheeks. 

"Got it, we're on the way. Stay hidden." He urges and the line goes dead. 

You pull your knees as close to your body as you can trying to hide away in the dark nook. The gunshots fade in the distance and your heart races faster. Every part of you wants to run and see if Deacon was okay, but you listened and stayed put.

After what felt like forever a helicopter could be heard overhead. Staying in your hiding spot you close your eyes and hope they make it to you soon. You were freezing. 

After a few more minutes you could hear voices and footsteps. Some shouting out how many people were dead, others asking where Deacon was. You heard Jim's voice in the distance calling for you. Now you got up from your hiding spot and went tumbling down the hill. You ran as fast as you could back in the direction of the cabin. 

"Jim!" You yell his name when you finally see him. 

He comes running towards you and you slam into him. Hugging him tightly, tears once again falling freely. His hand goes to the back of your head as he holds you close. 

When you pull away you search his eyes seeing if they hold anything. 

"Where's Deacon?" You ask. 

There it was. Jim averts his eyes from you for a brief moment. Something the normal eye would never pick up. You grip his arm tightly. 

"Jim please, tell me." You beg.

"He's alive, but he's been shot. Plus some other injuries. He wasn't conscious when we wheeled him out of here." He tells you truthfully. 

Your shoulders sag. "Is he going to be okay?" You ask. 

"We don't know yet. Come on, let's get you out of here." Jim wraps his arm around you. 

"But, it's not safe." You stop. 

"It is now. Has he not told you?" Jim asks. 

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?" 

"Deacon, and his team were able to locate the men who threatened your life. He had me, Hondo and the rest of the team go in and take them down." He pauses for a moment. 

"Some got away. They had found your location and we couldn't get to them before they left. We were just barely able to warn Deacon before they showed up." He finishes. 

You haven't cried this much since your childhood pet died when you were 16. A part of you died that day with him. Now, here you were crying over a man you may never get to see again because he too might be dead.

Jim leads you to the helicopter and helps you get in the seat before doing so himself. You watch the land below get smaller and darker the higher into the air you go. Jim grabs your hand and squeezes it for a moment. You know it was him trying to comfort you. Jim had never been good at that. 

Being able to go back to your home felt wrong. It was crazy to think that two months living in the unknown would change your entire view on your life. You desperately want to go to the hospital to see Deacon. Make sure he's okay for yourself, or see for yourself he's not okay. 

Jim agrees to take you to the hospital. Upon arrival you notice how many people were there for Deacon. He was held in high regard amongst his former teammates. It was a sight to see. 

Someone calls your name and you look in the direction of the voice. The man you knew as Hondo approaches you. 

"We've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you." He tells you with a genuine smile. 

You nod, unable to form words of any kind. Your throat was sore and scratchy. Making it feel impossible to speak at the moment. You need water. Once again reading your mind, Jim appears with a bottle of water in hand. You smile thankfully at him. 

"Thanks." You croak out.

You find a seat and wait with the rest of the people in the waiting room. The hours tick by as all of you wait for an update on Deacon. 

Three hours after you get to the hospital a doctor comes out of the OR doors. Everyone stands, and the doctor's eyes widen. 

"Are all of you here for Mr. Kay?" He asks. 

Everyone nods. The doctor takes his glasses off and wipes them before adjusting them to his face once more. 

"He's going to be fine. Recovery will suck, but he will recover. Gunshot wound, cracked ribs, fractured arm, the list goes on. It's a good thing he has all of you." He nods. 

"Can we see him?" Your quiet voice pokes through the crowd. 

"It's after visiting hours, but I can allow one of you back." He states.

You expect someone to go back and see him, but when no one does you step forward. Jim nods at you. You found it odd the people who have known Deacon the longest would allow someone who's only known him for two months be with him while in this position. 

The doctor nods and gestures for you to follow him. He leads you down the hall of hospital rooms and stops when he reaches Deacon's door. 

"I'll have them bring in some blankets and pillows. If you don't plan to stay, let me know." He states. 

"No, I'm staying." He nods and leaves. 

You examine the small hospital room. The monitor beeps to the rhythm of Deacon's heart. This is the first time you've seen him in over 5 hours. You weren't sure if you ever would. 

Taking him in you frown at the sight of him. A bandage on his left cheekbone, busted lip, a splint on his right arm. He was a mess, all because he was protecting you. 

You pull the chair over to him and sit down beside him. 

"Damn you, Deacon." You whisper. 

You grab his open hand into your own, looping your thumb around his. He didn't close his hand around yours, but that didn't matter. Feeling his pulse thump in his wrist was enough. You lean your head down and place it on the bed, closing your eyes. Allowing yourself to take in his warmth. Meaning he was very much alive. 

A nurse enters the room and gives you a soft smile before setting up the small bed in the corner of the room. You silently thank her. Your eyes snap to Deacon when you feel his fingers wrap about your hand. 

His eyes are just barely open as he looks at you. 

"I'm sorry." He croaks out. 

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." You raise your eyebrows at him. 

"Scaring you." 

"Deac, you saved my life. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm the reason you almost died." You grip his hand tighter. 

He laughs, then groans in pain. 

"It was my job sweetheart. You don't have to apologize either." He reassures you.

"I guess we both need to stop apologizing." You laugh out. 

"I guess so." He gives a small smile. 

You rub his arm softly and he watches you do so. 

"You should get some rest." You tell him as you stand up. 

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Your breath catches in your throat as you linger a moment longer contemplating things in your head. His beard scratches your cheek as you loop your arm around his neck in an awkward hug. 

"I'll be right here if you need me." You tell him. 

He nods. Flicking the light in the hospital room off you make your way to the small bed in the corner and try to sleep. 

"Goodnight Deac." 

"Goodnight Sweetheart.”

Tagging a few who may want to read it : @obiknights @chelseasdagger @streakyglasses

A big big thank you to @spnshortcake for encouraging me to post this. I'm grateful for you. Thank you love ❤️.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Ignore it if you're uncomfortable💕

Reader catching Steve eating um... "meat" or put suspicion on foods he cook cuz it's a little different from usual meat😔

Idk choose one or maybe both or maybe none

ANYTHING FOR STEVE KAMP I'M EVAPORATING RN

This will be a story told in infrequent, anachronistic snippets, as I love the story idea but don't really want to commit to another WIP. I hope you enjoy!

📖"Amuse Bouche"

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Reader

Tags: cannibalism, held hostage, basement wife, captor/captive, dark Steve

Summary: Amuse-Bouche (/əˌmuːzˈbuːʃ/; French; N.) : to delight the mouth.

You feel your ears buzzing as you sit across the island, frozen in place. The soft sounds of Steve's knife against the cutting board drumming in your ears inordinately loud, warring with the drum of your own thundering pulse. You lick your lips nervously, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything.

"Everything okay, Hon?"

You blink, startled out of your thoughts and surprised to find Steve staring at you from where he's working, his eyes boring into you, rather than the raw meat under his hand, the chef's knife in the other. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, and you're sure he can hear it, can tell exactly what you're thinking.

What are you thinking?

"Y-yeah," you stammer, forcing a smile. Oh god, he can tell. He knows what you're -

"Good." His smile is sweet and honest, unsuspecting, and he goes back to his work on the cutting board. You swallow, your mouth horribly dry. "Just hungry, huh?" Steve smirks down at his bloodied hands. "Really worked up an appetite this afternoon."

You chuckle nervously, shifting in place on the barstool. "Haha, yep. Yeah."

"Mm. Well I know how to fix that," he says. Eyes still on the meat.

You look down nervously to it again, and away again before he can catch you looking and see the thoughts going through your head. You avert your gaze around the kitchen. - the beautiful kitchen.

It'd seemed like such an easy mark. Middle of nowhere, no visible security. Single occupant who went away for hours at a time. It'd been easy to case. You'd thought you'd make out good on this one. Just one more job. A little more money to get you in a good spot. Then you'd go straight.

It hadn't worked out that way.

The links on your cuff make a quiet sound as you shift. You reach for your wine glass and take a big sip. It slides over your tongue in a burst of flavors: fruity and lush, decadent yet light. It's red wine, a Beaujolais, your favorite. Steve always pours it for you before dinner, and you always drink it as you watch him cook.

Lately you've been drinking it faster.

Your eyes are back on the bloody cutting board when Steve's amused voice jars you back to attention,

"Need another pour already?"

Your eyes jerk up to him in fright, and it must show on your face, because he sobers. "Hon? What is it?"

You fake another smile - something you've gotten quite good at, ever since you woke up one day in a carpeted cell. "Nothing," you assure him, batting your eyelashes and drinking the last few sips from your glass. You set it back down on the counter. "I think I would like some more, please."

Steve squints at you briefly, concerned, or maybe suspicious, but your smile seems to do the trick and he sighs good naturedly. "Okay, why not?" He sets the knife down on the cutting board and turns his back to you, going to the sink to rinse his hands. "I'm chilling a white for the main, and I thought we could have that honey wine with dessert."

"Oh." You can't keep your eyes off the cutting board - on the carefully trimmed hunks of meat that don't taste like anything you've ever had before ... and on the knife. "That sounds nice."

Steve chuckles. "My little woman loves her dessert wines."

You could reach it. It's within reach. If you just leant across the counter, you'd be able to -

Steve 's hand appears in your field of vision and you flinch. He's reaching to take your empty glass. He eyes you knowingly as he pours from the bottle of Beaujolais. You expect him to say something, but he just finishes pouring and slides the glass back across the countertop to you. "There you go," he says, staring at you.

You lick your lips and swallow heavily, feeling caught. He knows. "Thank you, Steve," you whisper.

The edge of his mouth twitches up. "You're welcome, Little thief."

Your guts churn at the words he's somehow turned into a term of endearment. Steve's no fool. He knew you'd look. He put the knife within reach to test you, and you've failed the test. Internally you sigh, and you meekly sip your wine. You've got a long time to go before you'll be able to get the better of him.

"What's for dinner?" you ask, resigned, eyes back on the mystery meat.

"Rosemary."

"What?" You look up at him, catching the tail end of something indecipherable in his eyes. "Rosemary?" you ask, heart beating faster.

"Mm." He nods and goes to pull something out of the fridge. He returns with a bundle of green herbs. Your shoulders slump. Oh. rosemary. Right. "I'm cooking it sous vide with herbs," he says, and starts plucking the needles off the stalk. "Rosemary, Thyme, bit of sage."

You nod vacantly, thinking of the Francisco Goya that Steve has hanging in the hallway: Saturn Devouring His Son. You used to appreciate his quirky taste in art, had planned to get rich off it. But now you're starting to suspect there's something else to it.

Still, you know it'll infuriate Steve if you refuse to eat the food he's prepared for you, so you focus on sipping your wine steadily, hoping to maybe get another pour in before the meal.

You don't ask what it is that he's cooking sous vide. But deep down, you think you know.

This has been a fill for: @badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square O4: Kidnapping

Masterlist

[jeonghaniehaee]

svt reblogs

master post

reblogs consist of various fics i’ve found that i personally enjoy and hope you do too 🦢

read at ur own risk! some works are 18+ and not meant for younger audiences

there will be some bias towards other members mainly cause i personally read theirs more

order will go: name/link + author, synopsis, and my notes

please support the writers by reblogging their works! everyone in general would appreciate 🕯️

seungcheol:

dad of the year @/wondernus

seungcheol accidentally reveals he has a daughter on a first date and doesn't know how to tell you that his daughter is a dog

notes: i loved this one so much it was just so 💕💞💘💗💓💖

your cherry flavored kisses @/hannyoontify

as his mom always said, kisses are the best kind of medicine for boo-boos

notes: omg sosososo cute 🥹 i loved this one oh so much you can’t believe it 

hello tutorial @/97-liners

it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). 

or 

in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be. 

notes: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS LIKE ALMOST ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS OF ALL TIME I LOVE IT OH SO MUCH!! please read this it’s actually perfect ive reread it so much just cause of how much i love it. THIS FIC IS THE EPITOME OF MY LIFE. THIS WRITER DESERVES AN OSCAR AND EVERY SINGLE AWARD IN THE WORLD

boyfriend texts @/lololololchips

notes:so cute and sweet ☹️🫶

fifteen to forever @/gyuswhore

Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him. 

notes:THIS FIC IS ACTUALLY SOO SWEET I LOVED IT SO MUCH. must read fr💯💯

jeonghan:

nothing new @/luvhhannie

no one would’ve thought that unspoken feelings would’ve been the best for you and jeonghan

notes: hanahaki is such a painfully good au and this fic just perfectly captures it!! i would recommend it wholeheartedly

to live again @/viastro

it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?

notes: oh. my. GOD. this fic is oh sosososo good and i loved the slow burn too. i never expected to have such a lasting impression on a fic but this one is just *chefs kiss* i love it so much, it’s definitely somewhere at the top of my fav fics

ode to you @/lovelyhan 

if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be. or:  25 lives in which you find and don't find jeonghan.

notes: this story was so cute and i love how it was created 🥹 i really liked it and i hope yall will too cause this is a great read, and every single life was so good 

proud @/blue-jisungs

hi this is a req ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ i am SUCH  a strong believer that jeonghan babies u no matter what or when. even in front of his members n theyre js like erm get a room?

notes: this is super cute and fluffy, also scoups 😭😭 so funny

my heart is beating for two @/seuonji

you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day? 

jeonghan becomes fond of the daycare worker he met the other day, seems like fate is on his side through this journey, or is it?

jeonghan becomes fond of the daycare worker he met the other day. they finally exchanged numbers! how does it go on from there?

notes: all three parts are all sososo good and i loved reading each one. this story is so cute and i just loved reading it and i reallly recommend it🥹

daisies @/viastro 

the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 

notes: OMG THIS IS SO GOOD!! i really enjoyed this and i loved reading the whole thing 🫶🫶🫶

beef @/wondernus

in which yoon jeonghan (the random guy you gamed with) found your twitter account, prompting the largest and ugliest twitter beef you've ever been in.

notes: this is so. incredibly. funny. i literally never knew i needed this fic in my life its just so good 😭

the selfish dilemma @/joonsytip

It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

notes: this series is incredibly good and i loved. reading it. i really recommend cause it was a great fic and it still stands as a great one

love café @/chocosvt

while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

notes: LOVE CAFE ACTUALLY MAKES MY HEAD SPIN I LOVE IT SO MUCH. THIS WRITER WROTE IT PERFECTLY I ACTUALLY ADORE IT SO MUCH!! PLEASE READ I LOVED IT 🙏 JUST EVERYTHING AHHH, IF YOU DONT LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE I SAY LISTEN TO THIS LOVE CAFE IS GREAT

the long way @/trblsvt

 it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy.

notes: i loved this one so much it was a perfect read and it’s just 😭🫶

the christmas boyfriend @/rubyreduji

when you tell your mom the little white lie that you have a boyfriend, you don’t expect it to evolve into bringing your friend with benefits home for christmas. what can go wrong?

notes: this is actually one of my TOP favorites of all time and of jeonghan fics. if it’s not even first, that is. i loved this so stinking much it’s not even comprehensible. PLEASE im begging you read this. i loved it so much. even if you aren’t reading this at christmas time, it is still a perfect fic and i absolutely love it. one of my first (maybe also my last 🤭) top fics

iris beauty @/wonunuu

you and mina have been best friends for as long as you remember. after your parents passed from a horrible car accident, mina’s parents kindly took you in, tending and caring for you as their own. at such a young age, you have learned the meaning of debt as this is your constant feeling towards your best friend and her parents. to compensate, you have showed them undoubtable loyalty, respect, love and kindness, just as they have showed you; you do everything they tell you without question. so when your best friend asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she has been talking to online, your loyalty and trust are tested when you unintentionally develop feelings for him. 

notes: this smau is genuinely so good and one i will read over and over again no matter how long it is. the storyline is mapped out PERFECTLY and i mightve read this all in one sitting…

how many times does it take to get smarter?

how many chances are too many chances? @/veethefreeelf

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

It’s been 6 months since the night you and Jeonghan went your separate ways. You’re sure he has moved on and you… are working on moving on. Nothing can go wrong, right?

notes: AHHHHHHHHH THE ENDING IS SO CUTE OMGGGGGGGG HAHAHAHAGAGAHAHAHHQHQHQJAHA. PLEASE READ IWHQHQGAGQGQH SO GOOOOOD

joshua:

isohel @/toruro

fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

notes: THIS MODERN ROYALTY AU IS JUST. PERFECTION. i believe this is a must read for all carats🫡 i loved it so much!!

untitled @/som1ig

you waited for him, and he still came, unbeknownst all odds

notes: ong this is so sweet and i loved reading this. it’s so good 🫶 (short but sweet)

you were beautiful @/viastro

a modernized cinderella au. in which you and joshua meet through your love for boba popsicles, but end up living out your very own complicated, mess filled, cinderella story.

notes: ONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND EACH MOMENT MADE ME WANT MORE. the angsty parts.. the fluff.. this one is defff a top read!! i recommend it to all (even non-joshua stans but idk if i trust u if u arent one even in the slightest 🤨)

so beautiful @/blue-jisungs

whipped prince!joshua

notes: AGAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA IM TOO HAPPY OMGGGG JOSHUA IS PORTRAYED SO GOOD AS A BF OMG AHAHAHHAHAHH AGHHHHHHHHH🙏🙏

jun:

hoshi:

wonwoo:

gamer bf! wonwoo hc @/blue-jisungs

notes: ngl i thought it would be how he would be like a discord mod bf.. (💀) but in reality it was vv cute and nice 🙌

for the books @/trblsvt

wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. 

notes:this one is a good one!! very nice and the students are 💯 top tier

take it easy (slowly carve out my heart) @/savventeen

wonwoo's assignment: become your husband and bide his time until given the command to kill you. a simple mission, really — one that shouldn't have been hard. except, he never accounted for the fact that he might actually fall in love with you. too bad he's the perfect little soldier.

notes: in my own words, “this made me truly sob. made me wrench my heart out. this is amazing angst. this is the only kind of amazing angst i want to read now ♾️♾️♾️” 

to my youth @/viastro

in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

notes:ngl in general ALL of viastro’s smaus deserve to be read fr.. like this one is so cute!! wonwoo in some of the moments just make me 😍😍 also the angst was fr sooo good 

woozi:

dokyeom:

mingyu:

minghao:

seungkwan:

vernon:

dino:

multiple:

camp half-blood @/som1ig

the camp half blood is a greek demigod training facility located on the north shore of long island. this series is about thirteen of its residents.

notes: i was SUCH A PJO FAN that these fics like actually cured me. i love every single one!! another must read fr 🤭

svt reaction to having a gf that’s cold on the outside, sweet and caring on the inside @/haecien

notes: this one is so cute! i loved each one and i thought it fit them well too 💕

thoughts ??? @/hanggarae

one shot smau’s about svt being horrifically down abysmal in chronological order 

notes: naw these are all super funny and great to read and support when you want to have a good laugh 💯

bf texts from maknae line when they’re on tour @/holdinbacksecrets

notes:overall just vv comforting texts between reader and maknae line 🫶

it’s complicated @/lovelyhan

one commoner, two princes, and three tales far too complicated to comprehend.

notes: currently only the dino and joshua one are uploaded (waiting SO painfully for the jeonghan one) but even though them being long might make you not want to read them, every single word was chosen perfectly and both stories just blew me away i loved them so much, definitely in my top 10 fics

you still sleep with plushies (vocal team) @/blue-jisungs

notes:what can i say these hcs are just really cute 

untitled @/nonranghaes

jihan finds you bundled up

notes: LMAO this one is just overall cute and some parts are def funny too

take a pic! @/cheolism

text messages of u asking ur boyfie (hyung line) for a pic <3

notes: these texts are soo funny and the pictures are chosen with care, i legit could tell, AND YOU COULDNT HAVE STARTED WITH THOSE CHEOL PICS LIKE WHAT 😫

inflection point @/lovelyhan 

you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

things make a turn for the worse (or the better?) when jeonghan leaves you with the most insufferable person on earth. but maybe a few weeks alone is exactly what you and seungcheol needed after all.

after reconciling with your first love, all seems well in your relationship thus far. but when you notice jeonghan distancing himself from you and seungcheol, you're determined to get to the bottom of it.

notes: AHAHAHHAHAHHHHHAHHHHHH INFLECTION POINT IS SO. GOOD. I RECOMMEND EVERYONE READ IT CAUSE I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! the story is great, the story writing is even better, and it is just overall a superior fic 🙏

svt when you call them a new pet name @/lovingseventeen

notes:i actually adore this fic so much it is so cute and it’s just 🤧🥹

“saw this and it made me think of you” @/babyleostuff

notes:this one is GENUINELY so funny like how’d you find all these pictures 😭😭🫶

teasing you over your crush on them - hhu, vu, pu @/hanniehaee

notes: i loved each one and especially the style they were wrote in 🤧🫶

accidentally ditching you on your bday - hhu, vu, pu @/hanniehaee

notes: THE ANGST IS ACTUALLY SOOOOO GOOD OMG. idk if yall knew this but i used to be a diehard straight angst fan and this really reawakened that part of me. i loved how it went and the part 2 was definitely great also. (p.s. the first time i read i cried, and it’s been a while since ive cried cause on angst so i loved the pain🙏)

amortentia @/http-mianhae

love stories at hogwarts with 13 particular people

notes: currently, only 95 line is there, but each fic is perfect. it’s a hogwarts au love story, and i especially love each one. every single one is perfect and captures everything oh sosososo well. i’m really excited for future updates !!!

svt hospital @/taeyegu

four different departments, four different love stories, all in one hospital; hospitalplaylist!au

notes: omg.. this sooo cute and super funny!! i loved each one and they genuinely made me smile and laugh

have something to add? send in a request and i’ll put it in 📦

want me to make a different groups recommendation list? add in an ask too 💌

[dayseternal-blog]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Bunny-senpai!!! 💕

I answered an ask similar to this one last year in March and I don't think my answers have changed...

I rewrote each blurb haha, so it's not an exact copy-paste from before.

1 “It’s No Secret” - Rated M, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata returns to Konoha after 5 years studying abroad in the Moon Kingdom. She just wants to enjoy her last year of high school as a normal girl, but blossoming love forces her to confront her future. - My top fave. Back then, I wrote this like I was possessed. This story consumed my mind, and I was posting chapters every 1 or 2 weeks. I'm amazed at myself from back then. No, it's not my technically best writing, but I was having so much fun thinking up all kinds of scenes!!! Oh, to be a fanfic writing newbie all over again. Major love to everyone who's read this flirty teenage shenanigans mess and enjoyed it!!! One day I will write part two 🥺

2 “Nightdreams” - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto and Hinata find comfort in each other after the war. - This fic idea came to me sometime after I read agitosgirl's "A Special Friend," and I wanted Moooooore!!! I wanted more of this hurt/comfort dynamic between NaruHina!!!! So bam, the fic almost wrote itself, it flowed so easily (except for when it didn't). I'm so happy that people reread this fic, and then tell me that they're rereading it :D. Once in awhile I reread it, too, and think, oh, I should fix that sentence, or whatever loll, but I don't. I kind of think it's nice to leave it as it is, imperfect in little ways to bother me. Please read this fic and recognize that I was copying Katarinahime's writing techniques throughout.

3 “Awkward Jocks” - Rated G, 1990s High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. She knows that if he were to ever ask her out, she would accept in a heartbeat. After all, he’s the star quarterback and basketball player. Plus, she’s liked him since…forever. But when her home phone rings, and he’s on the other line, she hangs up. - It's interesting to me that even after all the fics I've written over the years, it's a few of my oldest fics that take the top 3. I guess I really have been trying to write for myself since the start. This one is based off of my ex-coworker's love story. Even though I don't work with her anymore, I still think of her as my role model for good leadership. When you read this, I hope you can feel how much I love her!

4 “About You” - Rated G, 1970s High School AU, One-shot. A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other. - This is my most personal fanfic. Based on stories my parents told me and stories I found online from people of their generation, I tried to dive into their time using NaruHina. Ever since I was inspired to write after reading emmykay's "Torch Song," I had wanted to write a fic with Japanese-Hawaiian pidgin dialogue. This fic is close to my heart, but it's not higher on the list because there are inaccurate details that bother me 😅. I'm thinking of writing a fic about my great grandparents' generation one day, I've done a ton of research for it! Anyway, I'm so happy that others love this fanfic, too.

5 “Matcha” from “Shared Vows” - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Naruto calls Hiashi “father” for the first time. - According to my previous blurb, I picked this one because I loved how I structured it, I thought I wrote it really well. I also loved the notion of Naruto finding his own family. On deeper reflection, I think I also picked this one over "Finally Home" because I have a not-so-secret agenda for reconciliation between Hinata and Hiashi, fed by my own family's dynamic with my dad.

If I were to recommend any one of these for someone to read, I'd say they should start with Nightdreams or Matcha as an intro to some of my work since canon universe fanfic is always easier to digest.

[joelscruff]

safety (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader)

just a bit of an origin story for my boyfriend's dad!joel relationship. you can read other installments of this fic here. this one isn't smutty but i hope you enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you find yourself falling for your boyfriend's father. rating: 18+ (mdni) warnings: age difference, cheating, daddy issues, daddy kink, lap sitting, pet names (use of babygirl) word count: 2.2k

the first time your boyfriend's father kisses you, it's because you ask him to.

you've always looked at him a bit differently, always found yourself taking quick peeks out of the corner of your eye whenever he's in the room, given him shy smiles and giggled at all his jokes (most of which were actually funny, believe it or not). the first time you'd met him you'd gone to shake his hand, expecting a firm shake and a quick nod like your own father, but he'd surprised you completely when he'd wrapped you up in his arms, given you a bear hug and softly told you he was so happy to meet you.

your boyfriend always rolls his eyes at his father's affection, his jokes, his quirks. it's been almost disappointing in a way, to see the way his father behaves in comparison to his son. your boyfriend constantly seems to cultivate a cold exterior - and interior, if you're being honest with yourself - while his father radiates warmth and welcomeness, a safeness you've never seen in your own father. you wonder how your boyfriend is able to take such advantage of his father's kindness, that safety that so many people can only crave and never experience.

the two of you fight a lot, but this is normal for you. every relationship you've had - whether familial or romantic - has involved some form of conflict. it's just the way things are; you've come to accept that. the only difference is that before this you never had a third party standing on the outside, witnessing it, worrying about it.

"are you okay?"

the first time he catches you crying you feel embarrassed; until this point you've put on a good front, been your sweet and passive self around him. now he sees a different side of you, the side everyone else in your life has seen dozens of times. the side that hurts, feels pain, suffers.

you nod, leaning against the banister of the front patio and biting your lip, "yeah, i'm fine," your voice cracks and breaks - you're not fine, your boyfriend just berated you for messing up his concentration during one of his stupid games, called you a waste of space. but you're not going to tell his father that.

"you don't look fine," he murmurs, taking a step toward you, "something happen?"

you shake your head, "no really, i'm okay, mr. miller."

"joel," he corrects you softly with a gentle smile, and you try to smile back.

"joel," you repeat, "sorry."

"don't be sorry," he says tenderly, taking another step toward you and carefully placing a hand on your shoulder, "i want you to know...if you ever need to talk to somebody, i'm here. i'll always listen, alright?"

you're not sure what to say; no one has ever given you an offer like that before. it's confusing and surreal. your brow furrows but you slowly nod, "okay."

he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and then goes back inside the house, leaving you standing there alone. the ghost of his touch weighs heavily for the rest of the evening, his words echoing in your mind. he can't really mean that, can he?

the next time he sees you cry it's only about a week after the first time, and this time he knows what's wrong. you can see it in his expression, the quiet anger burning behind his glasses for his own son.

"i won't defend him," he tells you softly, sitting next to you on the couch in the living room while your boyfriend yells something incoherent down the hall, "you can talk to me."

you find yourself confiding in him briefly, only briefly. you don't go into much detail, just tell him you hate being made to feel worthless, that it's something you've dealt with for a long time. he touches your shoulder again, squeezes it calmingly, reassuringly. you look into his eyes and feel yourself falling before you can even register it. he cares about you.

you think about him a lot. during the day, nights, when you're in bed and can't sleep and just want somebody to hold you. you imagine his arms wrapped around you, remember that first time you met when he'd hugged you so tight and welcomed you so warmly. you want him to hold you like that again, touch you, love you. you touch yourself and pretend it's his fingers, you bury your face in your pillow as you come and pretend it's his chest.

you think of him when you have sex with your boyfriend. you'd feel bad, but you've started to become numb with the way he treats you, uses you. you close your eyes and curl your hand in his hair and pretend it's his father on top of you, his father inside you, his father kissing your neck.

every week your boyfriend competes in ridiculously boring online competitions; you show up at his house only for the promise of seeing joel, talking to him, sharing a quick moment in the kitchen or living room with him. you sit on your boyfriend's bed and watch from afar as he bangs on the keyboard and shouts aggressive things into his microphone, sounding like a whiny and petulant child. you wonder what you even see in him anymore, what you even saw in him to begin with. you should end it, you know you should. but then how would you see his dad?

he berates you again for messing up his concentration, tells you to leave for a bit and to "stop being so annoying". you don't even protest, just climb off his bed and leave the room, slamming the door louder than necessary behind you.

joel spends a lot of time in his office; he's the head of a contracting company, always making plans, doing paperwork, making phone calls. he has his shit together, another thing you feel drawn to. he's the only person in your life who seems to know exactly what to do in any given situation, knows who he is and where he's going.

you find yourself climbing the stairs and knocking softly on his office door. "come in," he calls from inside, and you slowly push it open.

he looks up from his desk, scattered with paper and blueprints. his brow furrows when he sees it's you, "hey, sweetheart, you alright?"

you close the door behind you and then stand there for a few seconds just staring at him; he's got on a cozy looking grey sweater, knitted and warm. his jeans are dark and his socks are mismatched, a quirk you love. he looks perfectly disheveled in his joel miller sort of way, hair thick and curly, beard scruffy and soft. his glasses accentuate the kindness of his eyes, the tenderness as he looks at you. he's like a comforting beam of light, a safe haven.

"can you hold me?" you ask softly, barely a whisper. it's out before you even know you're saying it, and then you're biting down hard on your lip and feeling tears prick in your eyes.

he seems surprised but only for a moment, then he makes his way toward you in two long strides and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in and holding you close. you melt into his embrace, burying your head in his warm sweater and almost collapsing into his arms, feeling yourself begin to cry steadily. you should feel embarrassed but you're too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being held by him again, feeling him so close, inhaling the comforting scent of him.

you feel him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture of comfort and safety, nothing more, "you're okay," he murmurs into your hair, "i've got you."

he holds you like that for a long time and makes no move to let go, just lets you stand there and take what you desperately need from him. your cries die down eventually until you're sniffling lightly into the thick fabric of his sweater and just breathing him in. his hands trail up and down your back comfortingly, tracing patterns and words, almost like a secret language.

"i feel safe with you," you mumble against his chest, but the words are muffled and hard to make out.

"hm?"

you pull back a bit to peer up at him with tear-filled eyes, cheeks pink and puffy, "i feel safe with you," you repeat, voice shaky but much more relaxed, calm.

he smiles softly, peering down at you with that familiar tenderness, "i'm glad," he murmurs, and you swear you catch his eyes trail down to your lips for a brief moment, "i want you to feel safe with me."

"can you kiss me?" you whisper, voice breaking on the last word, not caring that this could make or break the quiet companionship you've formed with him, "please."

his brow furrows again but he doesn't pull away, lips parting a bit in surprise, "sweetheart, i'm not sure that's-"

"please," you repeat, voice raw and desperate, "it's all i think about."

his expression relaxes then, the tenderness returning. with a resigned look you watch as he leans his face down toward you; you close your eyes and allow him to press his lips gently against yours, soft and sweet. he's so gentle, so warm, so safe. your arms wrap tighter around him as you kiss him back, a soft whimper falling from the back of your throat. it's perfect. he's perfect.

when he pulls away he leaves his forehead pressed against yours, and when you open your eyes your heart stutters when you see his face so close, lips wet from your saliva and eyes dark with desire.

"that what you needed?" he murmurs softly, nose brushing against yours.

you nod and kiss him again, humming quietly against him when he pulls you in closer and palms your back firmly, holding you close. you're not sure how it happens but you both end up on the small couch in the corner of his office, him sitting back against the cushions while you seat yourself in his lap, a leg on either side of his thighs. his hands travel inside your shirt, exploring the soft expanse of your back as you whimper again into his mouth and revel in the feeling of being touched by someone so different.

"what else do you need?" he breathes, voice deep and husky as his hands travel from your back to your face, cradling it in his palms, "i'll give it to you, sweetheart, anything you ask. just tell me."

you could say a multitude of things; you could tell him to kiss you again, touch you, fuck you, the list goes on. and you want him to do all of that, but the one thing on your mind is what inevitably slips past your lips.

"i just want you to hold me," you whisper, and you don't care if you sound pathetic, "please."

he looks at you with a great deal of pain in his eyes, an empathetic gaze you've seen numerous times. he thumbs your cheeks, wipes away the tears there and slowly nods.

"okay, babygirl," he murmurs, "i'll hold you."

you sit in his lap for the next hour. it's quiet and peaceful and perfect; he rubs your back while you bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and letting his presence completely invade your senses. you fall asleep briefly, but when you wake up you're happy to find that you're still in his lap, still being held. he makes absolutely no moves to remove you from him, to pull away or leave the room. he just holds you.

"thank you," you whisper finally; it's time to leave, you know this. your boyfriend will be looking for you soon, wondering where you went and why you didn't come back. you pull your face up from joel's neck and look down at him with tenderness, love.

"any time," he murmurs with a gentle smile, then leans forward a bit to press a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, "i mean it, sweetheart. any time you're upset, any time you need to be held...you come to me, okay?"

you nod, biting down on your lip to keep the tears at bay, "no one's ever held me like this before," you whisper, "not even my own father."

his brows scrunch together and he touches your arms, squeezing them carefully in his hands, "i'm sorry, babygirl," he breathes, "you don't deserve that," his eyes capture yours in an intimate gaze, "you deserve the world."

the word is there, fighting to be spoken behind your lips. but you don't say it. you don't want to make him uncomfortable, don't want to ruin something that's only just started. but you feel it there, the desire to call him what you've been wanting to call him since the day you met. but that's a conversation for another day.

instead of words, you settle for a kiss. you lean down and touch your mouth to his, feel the gentle scratch of his scruff against your chin as you open a bit wider to allow his tongue to prod inside, just for a moment. he tastes like comfort, feels like safety.

daddy.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi Kait, I hope you're doing great! I came all the way here to tell you that I've fallen in love with your Mystic Messenger writings 💕💕 you have a way of narrating the thoughts and emotions of the characters that keep me reading until the end (I was literally reading an article for an assignment and ended up reading one of your writings in full!) I think you've become my inspiration to write someday 🫶🏻

From the Mysmess universe do you have any recommendations for me to read? Yes, I know I could look in your AO3 but I thought I could ask the author herself jaja

Thank you Kait for being in this fandom and filling it with your beautiful writing! ✨

So, I could give you some of my stories to read, and I will give you some of my longer stories and which ones I would recommend you to read, but I will give recommendations from other authors who have penned longer stories that I really enjoyed. Just three for now since I don't want to give you too much homework!

Constellations by Cervella: Detective MC / Saeyoung, follows the canon game with a few minor adaptations! It unfortunately hasn't been updated in a few years but it's still worth the read in my opinion. The MC is interesting! I love reading about the different ways we all imagine our characters to face all the challenges that come, and this MC works fast and hard to find solutions. Stubborn, but any Saeyoung MC is.

an act of kindness by Khismer: This is one of my favorite Unknown stories. It was one of the first ones I came across in the fandom in 2016. There wasn't a lot to go off of back then when it came to his personality, but this fic really drew me in when I was desperate to have content with this guy. It's a wild ride in which you become close to him and I don't want to spoil it because it's a lot of fun.

Everlasting Party by ZenTheRainbowUnicorn: I would be remissed if I didn't bring up one time loop story. If I had to pick one, it would be this one. Again, the story isn't completed but I do think it's always worth your time to read a story that might be a little bit older to give that author a smile when they see new reviews. This is a Zen fueled love affair and you don't see too many of those these days, I'm afraid.

Okay, now to recommend some of my stories that might interest you based on what I've seen you like.

Iris by lilacnightmares: SE Saeran x Former Believer. A story that's built around jumping from the past to present as you make sense of what happened to you and Saeran. It's a story I always wanted to sit down and write ever since I was inspired by all the Assistant stories for Unknown. This one? I will love it forever.

Gloxinia by lilacnightmares: It's my own time loop story. This time, the focus is Suit Saeran... how many times can you go around and around before you crack?

Gardenia, et tu Polaris? by lilacnightmares: Have you ever wanted a story where Saeran AND Saeyoung get love? Find out in this story of an Angel Saeran and Demon Luciel as they fight to make sense of not only their religious trauma, but mine because this fic helped me deal with a lot of feelings! Also, Rika is a very interesting antagonist you'll never understand until the very end!

Cereus by lilacnightmares: Please, read my cowboy story and love it because it's my favorite series. Have you ever wanted to kiss the cute outlaw Unknown? No? Well, you're not in the loop because you owe him for saving your life, now dance on that saloon stage with Zen and find out what's going on in this dusty little western town!

Zantedeschia by lilacnightmares: Have you ever wondered what VAE Ray and Saeran do once they have to make sense of life after the end of the second party? Well, this is what happens. They get a job at a cute little bed and breakfast, but, here's the catch, their uniform is a maid outfit and they happen to catch the eye of the gardener who works at their job... this is actually @/DailySaeran's favorite story of mine!

[arcadekitten]

Just wanted to drop in to say thank you for being alive and gifting the world with your amazing games and sharing a piece of your wonderful imagination with all of us. Your games never fail to amaze me and the stories you've created for each character make them feel almost as if they're real! You have a genuine talent for storytelling and it shows. Playing your games is one of my favorite pasttimes and are one of the few things that have helped me through my toughest times. The patience and genuine love for your community is something so admirable that sets you apart from others and really shows the best of you! On the behalf of your community, thank you for making these video games and being such a wonderful amazing person! And here's to a great and productive rest of the year! 💕💕💕💕💕💕🐦‍⬛🦉🦌🐡🐟(couldn't find Mary loll)

This is very sweet of you, thank you so very much.

I am currently undergoing a pretty rough patch in my life and right now I am in a position where I can't get much done at all, so I appreciate your kind words very much. I hope that you may continue to enjoy the games already out and I hope I can get back to doing what I love sooner rather than later.

Many of you have been so wonderful to me and it means more than you know. Thank you all so much for your patience and support, I can't wait until I can get back to what I love most and being able to celebrate it with you all too ♡