#just realized his neck should be a tiny bit longer FUCK

[busiest-bee]

I have a disease where I think Way Too Much about my oc Ribeye. I accidentally made an au with him and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since yesterday. Might post about it but might not

[rafeandonlyrafe]

purest honey

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, SOMNOPHILIA!!!, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, established relationship, cockwarming <3

“rafe, stop.” you whine out. you should have known better than to get into bed naked, but you were too exhausted to even throw pajamas on.

“come on baby.” rafe coos, pulling at your hip until you're on your back, instead of turned away from him on your side, waiting for him to slot behind you and cuddle to sleep.

“im so sleepy.” you tell rafe, barely able to keep your eyes open after rafe kept you up all last night with his cock lodged deep inside you.

“i just wanna taste you, come on.” rafe groans.

“no, im exhausted.” you argue as rafe separates your thighs, revealing your pussy.

“sleep then.” he grunts, laying between your thighs. he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs that lull you even further towards slumber.

“fine.” you mumble out, stopping all resistance, letting sleep take you while rafes kisses move closer to your center, his tongue darting out to taste the bit of wetness that is permanently between your thighs whenever you are around rafe.

he licks softly, keeping his strokes light and eyes on your face, making sure you don't wake as your chest rises and falls deeply, clearly already completely out.

rafe spreads your pussy with his fingers so he can see your tiny stretched hole, swiping his tongue in circles before pressing inside. you move slightly, hips adjusting from side to side as you feel the intrusion in your sleep, but you settle as rafe begins to move again. in, then out, in, then out again. 

he loves feeling how tight you are around him even in your sleep, moving back up to swirl around your clit. until you’ve thoroughly covered his tongue, only able to taste your slick.

rafe presses a few more kisses to your folds before licking his lips, moving to lay next to you. rafe knows how deep you sleep, so he doesn’t fear waking you as he moves your body around, slinging one of your legs over his hips.

rafe swipes his cock through your folds, rubbing against you, feeling your warmth, before sinking into your pussy with a low groan. your cunt tightens around his cock, your body briefly stiffening up before relaxing again when rafe presses all the way inside, able to fall asleep himself now that your taste is in his mouth and your body is wrapped around him in every way.

--

“fuck.” rafe groans, the morning light shining in from the sunrise. he told himself to wait longer, to let you sleep, but his cock has been soft inside you most of the night, and he’s so painfully hard now that he can’t hold himself back any longer.

rafe thrusts his hips forward, rocking into you, forcing himself deeper as his hands grip your hips. you’re not asleep for long as your eyes squish together before blinking open, sleep still heavy on your body. 

“mmm.” you moan out, realizing you had drooled a little bit in your sleep onto rafes bare chest as you pick your head up, quickly realizing that rafe is picking your hips up and down, his cock pushing inside of you.

“sorry baby, couldn’t wait.” rafe grunts out, eyes glossed over with long sought pleasure. you move so you’re fully straddling rafe instead of just your leg stretched over his body.

you don’t even worry about your weight pressing down on him as you bounce your hips with rafes help, bare tits rubbing against his chest.

“slept all night inside of you.” rafe says, even though you could probably tell already. you smile and press soft kisses to his neck, burrowing further into his warmth since the blanket had long slipped off the bed.

“want your cum inside me too.” you coo out. usually rafe wouldn’t let you sleep until you were stuffed, filled and dripping, but last night was an exception, simply too tired to even allow him that much.

“gonna give it to you baby.” rafe moans as you tighten around him, clenching your muscles, wanting rafe to get there even faster, anything you can do to increase his pleasure.

“fuck!” rafe shouts out, hips pressing up, holding you tight down on his cock as his orgasm rips through his body, cum spurting inside of you, filling you with a familiar warmth.

you giggle as rafe flips you over onto your back, giving a few more thrusts to really push his cum deep before settling down into you.

“your pussy is so perfect.” rafe kisses you, not caring about morning breath. “wanna taste you again.”

rafe slides his cock out, fingers quickly coming to plug your hole and not allow anything to escape as he sinks down the bed until he’s laid between your legs.

“you’ve been needy lately.” you giggle, looking down at rafe, swiping his hair over his forehead as his tongue darts out, rubbing over your clit.

“can’t help you taste so good.” rafe moans into your pussy, the vibrations spreading between your thighs. rafe isn’t sure what he would compare to how you taste on his tongue. it’s better than the purest honey, the freshest vanilla.

“rafey.” you yawn, glancing at the clock. “its so early.” 

“i know, i’ll let you go back to sleep in a minute.” rafe promises. he never says anything about stopping eating you out as he licks and sucks at your clit until it’s puffy and pink.

“cum for me then you can sleep.” rafe commands, fingers starting to pump in and out, the squelching of his cum still inside of you filling the room.

“rafe!” you squeal out as his teeth graze against your clit, feeling your soft flesh as he gently bites down before lathering over your bud with his tongue.

rafe increases the speed of his fingers, moving his mouth faster to meet the rhythm as he sucks your clit into his mouth, not bothering to keep the movement soft as he sucks harshly on your most sensitive part until your orgasm explodes from your body, your hips pressing up into rafes face as you cum hard, having been teased and on edge since last night.

“fuck, so delicious.” rafe buries his entire mouth and chin between your thighs, unashamed in rubbing through your folds, soaking his entire face in your juices before smiling up at you.

“now come back up here and cuddle.” you coo out, hoping rafe will agree and let you fall back asleep as your eyes become droopy again.

“mmm, couple more.” rafe returns to your pussy, despite you hissing out from how overstimulated you are.

rafe wants more than a couple more, eating you out through four more orgasms before you completely lose count, at some point passing out and falling back to sleep as he stays between your thighs.

you wake up for the second time, the sun now high in the sky, again with rafes cock buried inside of you. he smiles when you wake up, ready to fuck more cum into you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[buckyalpine]

you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.

You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.

“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.

"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.

“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.

“But?”

“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”

“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"

“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-

"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.

You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.

"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.

He didn't have a choice.

-

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.

"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.

"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.

"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.

"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.

"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.

"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.

"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.

"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"

"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.

"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.

-

"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"

"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"

Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.

"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.

"Never babydoll, you're my everything"

I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.

"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"

"Shut up Sam"

"Such a softie"

[soullumii]

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You cant stop thinking about the kiss. 

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols. 

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules. 

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough. 

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now. 

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting. 

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together. 

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out. 

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?” 

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?” 

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.” 

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours. 

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer. 

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you. 

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction. 

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him. 

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips. 

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact. 

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage. 

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over. 

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly,  fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily. 

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.” 

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.” 

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?” 

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free. 

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him. 

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh. 

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room. 

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously. 

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders. 

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter. 

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything. 

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.” 

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours. 

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later. 

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth. 

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.” 

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense. 

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface. 

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.” 

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says. 

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3

[nena-la-fresa]

The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 4|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 3

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Smut with Plot | Pregnancy | Soft Aemond | Biting | P in V | Light Choking | Oral F Receiving | Tiny bit of a Violent Dream | A bit of angst

Word Count: 4052

A/N: Hasn't been proof read yet. Sorry this one is a long one but I wanted to end it here. Ik i wouldn't be able to commit to a longer story. So imma stop it here before I fuck it up. I also plan on writing some one shots of Aemond and some of Michael Gavey cuz I have a small obsession with this man at the moment.

No matter how many times you had visited the godswoods in the Red Keep you had not seen a single vision. You had kneeled there for hours, yet nothing. You prayed to them, hoping they had not abandoned you. This gift they had kissed upon you had been taken for what felt like a month. You hoped this would not be the end of your life and your families. Even if it was the end you kept praying. 

“M’lady please.” Your maid begged you once again as she had an hour ago. 

“Mira, you do not need to stay. I’ll do another hour.” 

“M’lady please. You’ll catch a cold, you’re drenched. We need to warm you up.” 

You finally opened your eyes, you looked down and noticed the smell of the water beneath your knees. The way your loose hairs had stuck onto your neck and face, and the way the water had tickled your cheek as it ran down. Now out of your trance you heard heavy footsteps approaching you and Mira. 

Ser Criston Cole had appeared, with a blank expression on his face he spoke, “The queen would like to speak to you.” 

You sighed before getting up, “Thank you Ser Criston Cole. Let me change and then I shall meet with her.” 

“Now” He had hardly spoken. 

Taken aback by his tone, “Are those in her words or your?” 

“The matter is urgent. She would like to speak now.” 

“Alright.” You rolled your eyes before attempting to pat off the dirt that had clung to your dress. 

In a hushed hiss voice Mira spoke, “M’lady you sat there in the rain for hours. A simple pat would not take it out.” 

You said nothing but a quiet sorry. She was right to be upset though.

You had gotten looks from almost everyone as you walked down the corridors to the Queens chambers. You had excused Mira as you and Cole had entered the room. As the doors opened Alicent had turned around, her eyes widened. 

“My gods, what on earth happened to you.” She grabbed a blanket nearby and walked over to you to wrap you with it. 

“Forgive me your grace. I was praying in the godswoods and had not noticed the rain.” You pause and cling onto the warmth. “I was going to change but Ser Criston Cole said it was urgent.” 

In the corner of your eye you could see him glare at you. “The matter was urgent but you could have changed.” She began to pull you towards the fire to warm up. “I’ll keep it short then.” 

As you both were seated she handed you a cup of tea. “I’m sorry for the bluntness but, have you bleed?” 

Your hands stopped, it took you a moment to process. It had been a month, a month of praying to the gods of the old. A month of sitting there and not a single moment had you realized you never bleed. An entire month, you had never been late, your cycle was always on time, maybe a few days late but never a month. “I” You paused, “No, I haven't. Not since before the wedding.” 

With a bit of remorse on Alicents face, she gave a half smile. That look you had was one she knew all too well. “That’s wonderful. It’s wonderful news, especially news we can give out at Aemonds coronation day.” 

“Oh, yes, his coronation day.” The events that had taken your wedding day came flooding back. “Will you be telling Aemond” 

She nodded, “He should be here soon.” 

Just as the first day he met you, he saw you sitting there. This time by the fire, he watched as the fire had illuminated your face. The way it kissed your features, the way it had made your face glow. Yet this time there was a somber look on your face that you tried to hide with a smile. 

“Hello Husband. We seem to keep meeting this way.” There was an ache in his heart as you went back to calling him Husband. He loved the way you called him by his name. Yet he knew it was his own fault. He had pulled back from you, not because he despised you. But because he despised himself. How could he touch you, not after what he did, not after what he did to his flesh and blood with his own hands. The situation with Aegon was different than Lucerys, with Lucerys it was out of his control. But with Aegon, it was by will. Not only that but for another reason he could not even dare think of it in fear it may come true. 

Alicent could feel the tension, she spoke to try and break it. “Aemond, please sit. I’d like to speak to both of you.” 

He nodded his head and proceeded to sit next to you on the sofa. 

“I was telling Y/n that your coronation day was coming soon. Your grandsire has arranged everything and things have been prepared accordingly. As for your coronation day, we will first check with the maester, but if our assumptions are correct, we will announce the celebration of your first child.” 

You could feel his hard gaze on you as fidgeted with your fingers. Was he mad? Was he upset that you had gotten pregnant so fast? Did he now feel even more tied to you? Did he resent you for this? Like always thoughts had flooded your mind. Without the sight it was impossible to make decisions or to pass judgment on him. You felt vulnerable, you had never felt like this before. You had always been two steps ahead of any suitor or any man in general. But now here you are, a wolf in the den of a dragon. What were you to a dragon? Nothing really. Your sight was all you had to feel in control, and now with it gone you truly felt what other women felt. Powerless. 

“I see.” Aemond had spoken. “Thank you mother. I hope that in time you will be able to guide my lady wife in her responsibilities as the new Queen.” 

She nodded, “Yes of course. And your grandsire will speak to you of your responsibilities as well.” 

“Was there anything else?” 

“No, that was all. You both may take your leave.” Alicent stood up. 

Both you and Aemond had as well, as you all headed towards the door Alicent spoke for the last time, “Congratulations. You both have done well.” You and Aemond nodded. 

Just as you think you both walk in opposite directions Aemond places his hand on your lower back. You look up at him, yet he does not look at you. He began to guide you towards his chambers. When he noticed some maids passing by he asked them to draw a bath in his chambers. They obliged. 

By the time you both had reached the room the bath had already been drawn. He excused the maids. He led you to the front of the tubs, from behind he began to untie your gown. You looked over your shoulder and pulled away. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Stand still.” His voice stern. Yet he continued to speak, “Do you know how idiotic it was to stay in the rain? You could have gotten sick.” 

You spoke lightly, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Clearly.” 

He helped you into the tub after he had removed your dress and let down your hair. As you laid back in the tub he began to wash your hair. 

“The realm can not afford to lose its heir.” 

You had rolled your eyes, “Yes husband, as I am simply a child maker. And my life does not matter.” 

He lightly pulled on your hair causing you to glare back at him. “I wasn’t finished.” He had grabbed your chin lightly so that you wouldn’t look away. “While the realm can not afford it. I could not afford to lose you.”

Your eyes looked away from his, “Oh and is that why you have avoided me for a month?” 

“Yes.” You scoffed at his remark. 

“My uncle is still alive. We killed his children and his wife, what do you think he’d do if he found out I have grown fond of you. That I have a weakness for you, and now our child. He would burn you alive. Cut you in half, torture you, feed you to caraxes. What would I do if that happened?” 

“Kill him and remarry.” 

“You think that coldly of me?”  

“I have heard rumors that you were with a woman before me. What would stop you from doing the same? You are clearly loyal to your mother and if she wished you to remarry for the sake of the realm you would. I am nothing but a pawn in your family's game. I have done my duty and if I die then that is in the fate of the gods.” 

He was taken aback by your willingness to die. He had noticed a shift in your behavior for a while. The past month he had watched you from a distance, always seeing you praying in the godswood. It was all you did, he had to send maids to come and bring you food whenever you noticed you being there for more than an hour. 

“You have the sight. You are not just a pawn. Clearly my grandsire saw it as something.” 

“Yet I do not have the sight! The gods have clearly punished me! I have not had a single vision or dream since I got here. I have nothing, I am nothing.” 

“You are not nothing. You are my wife. You are to be queen.” 

Tears began to well up, “But I can not just be that. My whole life I have been a greenseer. How could I have that taken from me?” 

“Would you like to go back for a few days?” 

“Where?” 

“Home. To Winterfell.” 

“No, it’s too far. Your coronation is soon, riding there would take months.” 

“Not by dragon's back.” 

“Dragon’s back?” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“I’ve never been on a dragon. Let alone see one up close.” You shook your head. 

“It would only be for four days.” 

“Why are you being nice to me?” 

“Were you not listening to me, my lady wife?” He teased. 

“No.” 

“I could never replace you. You are now everything to me” He had leaned in closer. 

He planted a soft kiss on your cheek, “That is why I am being nice.” 

His lips moving closer to your lips. His kisses were intoxicating, no matter if you were angry at him. No matter if he had ignored you. Ever since that day he first kissed you, you had become addicted to it regardless of your feelings. 

“You can’t leave me again. You can’t shut me out. I can’t be here alone. I can’t do this without you.” Your eyes clouded with lust, with caving for his affection. 

“Alright.” He smirked lightly. 

“Promise?” 

He chuckled, “I promise.” 

His lips touched yours. The kiss was sloppy, desperate. You turned around to face him, pulling him closer. Through the kiss you began to help him undress. As he got in the water he pulled you onto his lap. His hands on your waist to hold you up right while your hand drifts down his chest. 

You found his cock already hard, it twitched at your touch. You gripped it tightly causing him to hiss. Your lips leave his as you travel down to his neck. As you suck on his neck you begin to pump his cock causing him to grunt lightly. You looked up at him, seeing his eyes closed as his head leaned back. The look of him like that caused your body to feel on fire. You bit his chest lightly, a groan left his lips. 

Unwilling to wait anymore you aligned him to your cunt. Rubbing him against your lower lips.

“Fuck” His hand moving from your waist to his cock.

But before he could grab himself you stopped his hand. This caused him to open his eyes and look up at you. He watched as you guided his hands from your stomach, passed your breast to reach your throat. That was when you sank down onto his cock, taking all of him. You let out a light moan feeling his warmth. 

He watched as you arched your back and began to move your hips. He lightly squeezed his hand causing your breath to hitch. All he could do was watch, watch as your perfectly shaped tits bounded with the rhythm of you bouncing on his cock. He hadn’t seen you clearly the first time you had sex. But now, he could clearly see you. The candles that surrounded the tub had illuminated you perfectly. The way your hair clung to your neck, the way the water dripped down your face. It made you look ethereal. Too delicate for him to touch, he was afraid that he would break you. 

But your whispers of his name tempted him. He needed more. He sat up, moving you with him. Once he had you both in a comfortable position he lifted you up. He carried you over to the bed. He had placed you on the bed and told you to get in the center. He then told you to turn around and bend over. He watched as you hesitated slightly but then did what he told you to do. Your forearms resting on the bed as your ass stuck up in a position that gave him a view of everything. You felt vulnerable, especially as he had not made a sound. This caused you to look back at him. You just saw him standing there looking at you, his cock just as hard as he had begun to stock it at the sight he was blessed with. 

“Aemond.” You whispered his name again. 

Just with his name he had moved closer to you. You felt the shift in the bed, you felt his hands making their way to your hips once more. His cock aligning with your cunt, he had rubbed himself against you smearing his juices against your wet cunt. It didn’t take long before he filled you up. He groaned at the feeling of your warm cunt, it pulled him in and held onto him tight as he pulled back and forth. 

His pace began to speed up and the sounds of your sweet moans. Each trust is getting harder and hitting the right spots. You felt him pull you back to him, your back against his chest as he continued to fuck you. He moved the hair from your neck, his lips sucking gently on your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your cunt tightening around him more. That last squeeze was enough to tip him over the edge. He came, his cum overflowing out of your cunt as he pulled out. 

He watched as his cum dripped from your cunt to the bed. You felt a shift in the bed again. You felt something between your legs. Before you knew it his lips were against your cunt. He lapped at your dripping cunt. His groan vibrated against your lower lips. 

“You taste so fucking good.” 

You sat up and watched him, his eyes closed as you would grind down on his face. You moaned as you felt his tongue slip between your folds. As you gripped his hair you watched as he opened his eyes. He stared back at you, sucking hard on your clit. You felt a tingling sensation pass through your whole body. Your knees felt weak, Aemond could feel it too. Once you had come down from your high, you got off him. 

Your back now against the bed. You took a moment to collect your thoughts. He was in you just seconds ago but you missed the feeling of him filling you up. But he wouldn’t let you rest, not yet. 

“I’m not done. Not yet. I need you, in every possible way.” Aemond leaned down and kissed your lips as he entered you again. 

Your moans and the sound of the bed creaking could be heard throughout the halls. The whispers of your marriage not being consummated during your period of silence with each other would be silence. 

Morning came quickly, the sun was now shining as the storm had passed. You awoke to the sound of the birds singing and to the feeling of an arm wrapped around you. You opened your eyes and looked down. Aemond had done the decency to cover you both after you had knocked out. But what made your heart flutter was the placement of his hand on your stomach. You didn’t know if he placed his hand there intentionally or just by coincidence. Either way it made you feel secure. Not just for you but for this child.

You placed your hand on his, he was warm. You didn’t understand how he could always be so warm, especially with how cold he looked. You tried to remove his hand to get up but he pulled you back into him. 

“Are you planning to run away so early, wife?” Aemond nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 

You smiled and turned around in his arms, “No dear husband. I plan on getting ready so that we may go to Winterfell.” 

“Everything is ready. We just need to get out of bed.” Aemond kept his eyes closed and ran his fingers up and down your arm. 

“How do you know it’s all ready? We only spoke of it last night.” 

“Earlier this morning, your maid had come in to wake you. I told her of our plans and asked her to get help setting everything up.” 

“I see.” You paused, “So then why are we still in bed?” 

“Because my dear wife. After all your nagging yesterday, you looked so beautiful sleeping. I could not dare wake you.” 

Aemond opened his eyes to find you glaring at him. He kissed your forehead, “After all that yesterday, you still find ways to upset me?” 

“How could I not?” He smirked before placing a kiss on your lips. 

After an hour or two you both had finally got ready. He had taken you to where Vhagar was, and there you stood. The giant stood before you, the air it had realized from its nose blew your hair slightly. Aemond pulled you closer, he placed your hand on Vhagar. He spoke in High Valyrian, and it seemed to have called the dragon down. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to ride with you?” 

“Yes. You’ll just sit in front of me.” 

The trip was long, but not as long as you had spent in the carriage. You felt the cold breeze hit you. The smell of open air, of the woods you had always remembered. Once Vhagar had landed you were greeted with your fathers men. They were taken by surprise and led you both to your father. You had explained everything to him, and how you would only be there for a bit so that you could be back in time for Aemonds coronation. With that he let you go, but requested an audience with Aemond. There you were taken to the godswood. It felt different, different than the one in the Red Keep. You kneeled in front of the tree and began to pray.

After what felt like hours there had been footsteps behind you. Turning you noticed Aemond heading towards you. You watched as he took in the woods. 

“Beautiful isn't it.” You got up and headed towards him. 

He nodded his head and reached up to touch one of the red leaves, “I didn’t expect it to look exactly like the one back home.” 

“They all look the same. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” 

“Have you finished?” He looked back at you.

You smile at him, “Yes. I feel much better now.” 

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead before turning around to walk back. He stopped when he noticed you weren’t by his side. 

“What is it?” 

“After your coronation. Do you think we could come back?” 

“What for?” 

“Well ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to get married here in the godswoods. And I know we already had our wedding. But-” You looked down at your hands before looking back up at him. “I’d really love to get married to the man I have grown to admire here.” 

Aemond walked back over to you, “If that is what my Queen wants, then I shall give it to her.” 

All you could do was smile at him. Yes your relationship was not ideal, this was not how you had expected it. Especially with him ignoring you, but now, now that you both promised. You both came to an understanding you felt like you could really build something with him. Clearly there was attraction, but you could be more than that. And his openness towards it was all you needed. 

Later in the day at dinner you had felt nauseous and excused yourself to your room. Aemond was going to go with you but you told him to enjoy himself and to keep talking if he wanted to. And he did. He found the environment less hostile as the one back at Kings Landing. Time had passed and without wanting to disturb your sleep, Aemond slept in a separate room. The night had continued yet Aemond could not stop tossing in his sleep. 

He was stuck, as if someone was holding him back. He watched as Daemon pulled you by your hair. You hold your swollen belly to protect your child, your face red and bloody. 

“Nephew, you started this war but I will end it. A wife for a wife.” Daemon pressed the dagger against your cheek, nicking it. 

“Aemond.” Your cries out before all he could hear were your screams. 

Daemon moved the dagger to your eyes, gouging out one after the other. Your tears mixed with the blood that ran down your eyes. Your screams had continued until they had felt real. 

Aemond jolted awake and yet he still heard your screams. His mind scattering, he ran out of the room to find yours. He flung open the door, your screams got louder. He was met with the sight of you, sitting up in bed. Your hands covering your eyes as if you had felt the pain. The pain he had dreamt of. He ran to you and touched your arm. But you had begun to hit him, trying to push him away. 

“Y/n. It’s me. It’s just me.” He waited until you calmed down to see it was really him. He watched as your tears ran down your face. The tears were overflowing, you let out a sob and whispered you were sorry. He shook his head and told you it was fine. 

He had pulled you into him. He had never hugged you so tightly before, he didn’t even know you were capable of that much strength. 

“I had a dream. Your uncle he-” 

“I know. I saw it. You don’t have to say it.” 

Your sobs hadn’t stopped. You both stayed there for more than an hour. Aemond had set you back, and hugged you tightly in hopes to calm you down. It was working, but it did nothing to calm him down. It was all he could think of. Your screams, it made his entire body ache. He was stuck, he felt helpless.

But it was true, he had started this war. He was the cause, he didn’t deserve happiness and his uncle knew it. Just when he found it, just when he found someone who understood him. Daemon would take her from him. He knew if he didn’t find Daemon this would eventually be their fate. It would be your fate. And it killed him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you died. Not after all this. He knew this would not end not while Daemon was still alive. 

[wavesmp3]

[kmg] morning at the edge of time

pairing: mingyu (svt) x reader genre: friends to lovers + hinted fwb + angst + mainly just a mess of a flash fic wc: 2.2.k warnings: perhaps a little swearing but other than that none!

when you wake up that morning, you say some lame joke. he laughs, and a siren goes off in the distance. you listen to that over him. 

it doesn’t take long to pack his things up. in fact, it takes so much less time than you had both planned. you still have an hour before you have to be at the station. 

he zips up the final piece of luggage, an old brown duffel bag that’s filled to the brim. the one you have to tug by the front pocket to get it to close all the way. you fight back something bitter coming up in your throat. it’s one of the same bags he brought on his way here. you remember watching him leave then too.  

“so,” he says finally, standing up from the zipped duffle bag and shoving his hands in his pockets. a boyish little habit that makes you feel like you’re both still 20, finding your footing in this brand new and bright place, holding onto each other and begging the other not to miss home too much. when did you stop missing home? when did he start? “do we have a little time on that schedule of yours for coffee?”

he gestures to the legal pad behind you, a bright yellow paper with your scribbled schedule made in a stressed hurry the night before. a joke, you realize belatedly once you register the sound from between his lips as a laugh. you feel so suddenly exhausted with it hanging in the air. you shrug, “i guess.”

he grins. and you remember being 13 with him by your side. you ignore the shaky feeling in the corner of your eyes. 

–

the train ride is so long, you think an hour in. how many more? you almost ask before remembering how he’s asleep. you stare at him. there are lines across his forehead and around his eyes that weren’t there a couple years ago. last year you found a gray hair right behind his left ear. you look for that sitting here. 

he wakes up just as your finger finds it. 

he squints and yawns at the same time. not even registering your hand shoved in his hair, your face two breaths from him. “morning.” 

he jumps in his seat. your fingers lose the hair. 

“what are you doing?” he asks, voice muddled by the sleep. you know this voice. you used to wake up next to it every morning. there’s a lump in your throat suddenly that chokes down every other emotion you would rather be feeling. 

“i was looking for your gray hair.” 

he perks up. “do i still have it?” 

you want to smile at this. the way he embraces this old age, with open arms and a big bear hug. the way mingyu does with everything. fearless and expectant. like he’s been waiting for it, for you. there was a time when you were the one in his embrace. you want to smile at it, him. but you don’t. or maybe, it’s that you can’t. 

you nod. “i think it’s grown a bit actually.” 

he hums, absently, craning his neck to see something you don’t care to see. “i’m gonna use the bathroom. meet in the dining car?” 

you nod, he leaves, and for the first time since stepping on this train you can fucking breathe. 

—

“doesn’t it feel like the train ride gets longer each time you go back?” he asks. 

you squint at him, picking at a potato before shoving it in your mouth. “not really.”

he shakes his head. “that’s cause you never go.”

and you know he doesn’t mean it with malice, but it’s a stab either way. you scoff. home is many things. it’s where you were born. where your parents live. where you met mingyu. home is many things. but it’s mainly just a tiny town full of memories and people you’d rather forget. 

“i’m sorry,” he offers half-heartedly, noticing your silence a second too late. 

you try your best to shake it off. you don’t want to ruin this day. 

instead you say, “we should get dessert.”

he smiles, big and wide. all teeth showcased right in front of you. somehow, it breaks your heart.

—

“my parents sent me this a while back.” mingyu says, showing you the screen of his phone. 

it’s a picture of when you both were young. 10 or maybe 8 years old. sitting together at the beach, covered in sand and smiling. “i remember that day.” you mutter to him, taking the phone from his hand and staring at the photo. “you made a sand castle, and let me stomp on it.”

“gosh,” mingyu starts with a fake sigh, “you’ve always been an asshole huh?”

you roll your eyes, pushing his phone back towards him. “it was a shit castle anyways.”

—

you and mingyu’s family have been friends since his family moved to town. you must’ve been 4 the first time you met him. you don’t really remember that evening. but you do remember riding your first amusement park ride with him. 

“i know mom,” mingyu says into his phone. you watch the end of his call. he picks at the collar of his shirt. you recognize it as the one his dad gave him for his birthday last year. you wonder if he did that on purpose. he hangs up the phone and gives you a look. 

“hey,” he quips, snapping his fingers in your face, “where are you?”

he knows you so well. “was just thinking.”

“about?” 

you push your chin out a bit, glancing at the scenery running past the window beside you. “i can’t believe it’s been 2 years since i moved from home and joined you in the city.”

“it’s been 6 years for me.”

“i know.” you say, understanding the gravity. the city has this way of pushing you in. like a trap you step into knowingly. “when you moved here for school, i…”

your eyes move back to his face. he tilts his head, waiting for you. “you what?”

you inhale, reaching for the napkin in your lap and folding the corners in. “i don’t know, i just never imagined that i’d also move.

he scrunches his entire face. “be honest, did you miss me so much that you moved just to be closer to me?”

you take the napkin in your lap and throw it in his face. he catches it snickering. “but seriously,” you start, exhaling and watching him fold the napkin back up and place it on the table, “i don’t know if i would’ve moved if you hadn’t done it before me.”

“and now look at you,” his lips curl upwards, “you love the city.”

you match the motion. “i love the city.” more than you ever thought you would.

“how long do you think you’ll stay there?”

he asks it casually, but the question makes your heart stop. it makes this bile that’s been sitting in your gut ever since mingyu told you for the first time that he was thinking about moving back home rise up again and burn the back of your throat. 

you cough. “forever hopefully.”

he gives you this look. this raised brow and side eye look that says you don’t mean that. that mocks you and means to tell you: you have no idea what you’re talking about. eventually, you’ll do what you’ve done our entire lives and follow me back home too. 

“i mean it.” you say steadily. he doesn’t flinch. neither do you. 

“home is different now, you know–”

you scoff. how many times can you and him have the same conversation.”

“–minghao doesn’t even really come into town that much anymore and–”

“stop it, mingyu.”

he bites the inside of his cheek. “why won’t you even try?”

—

you don’t like to think about minghao. the three years you spent loving someone who just up and left. you don’t like to think about him because there’s a part of you that isn’t sure if you ever really got over him.

—

“it’s just time.” mingyu says, voice soft and quiet. “i think it’s just time for me to go back home.”

the train rattles a bit. you stop your shoulders from shaking. “why?”

he just shakes his head and sighs. “it just feels right.”

the words are like a splinter, wedging itself into the pad of your index finger. 

“i’m sorry.” he tells you. 

you go to the bathroom and pretend not to hear it.

—

you stare at your face in the mirror. you never liked the long train rides; there’s a grayness evident in your face. and it makes you think about mingyu’s gray hair that’s grown longer. it makes you think about the first time found it. 

shortly, after you had moved to the city, you and mingyu’s friendship had taken a different form. nights spent laughing turned to something deeper, something blurry and messy. a kiss, a confession, a night spent together. you’ve always loved mingyu. he had been your best friend for so many years. and so it just felt so natural that your friendship would take such a shape. it didn’t feel awkward or hard or forced. it just felt like you loved him and it felt comfortable and honestly, just a tiny bit, it–

it felt like home. 

—

the first thing he says when you retake your seat across from him is: “do you think you’ll ever forgive me for moving back?”

you rest your elbows on the table, hold up your chin with your hands, and stare at him. his eyes look so brown. inhaling, you say, “eventually.” 

he chuckles lightly. “we had some good times together in the city.”

you smile, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. “we really did.”

“and our friendship has nothing to do with distance.”

“i know.” you shrug slightly. “i’m just going to miss doing life with you by my side.”

he frowns, ever so slightly. “you know i’ll always lov-”

the train screeches, masking his voice, his confession with a sound so unpleasant and yet somehow better. you know what he has to say. you don’t want to hear it.

you stare at your finger, where his words pierced your skin. you don’t see the small stick of wood anymore. it’s been sucked in. bitterly, you think, there will always be a piece of you inside me.

—

the train stops in your town eventually. you both grab his bags and head out onto the platform. 

you sit on a bench just outside waiting for his parents to pick you guys up. it’s colder up here than it is in the city. it nips and bites at the bits of your skin that’s exposed. mingyu pulls out a scarf from one of his bags and wraps it around your shoulders. 

you recognize the color of it and the pattern. you gave this scarf to him 8 years ago. you can’t believe he still has it. you can’t believe he lugged it with him to the city. you can’t believe he lugged it back. 

you look at him, really look at him, and realize how terrified you are. you’ve spent so much of your life with mingyu. you don’t want to remember what life looks like without him. 

“you’re my best friend in the whole world.” you tell him, placing a hand over his. 

the wind picks up, picking and poking at your eyes. you feel a tear fall down your cheek. 

you know he’s sad to say goodbye to you and to the city, but you also know that more than that, he’s happy. excited to be back home and closer to his friends and family. you can see it in his eyes. you can see it in his gray hair sticking up with the wind. 

“i’m just not ready to come back yet otherwise i would.”

he looks at you, like he really pities you. you hate it. “you did come back with me.”

you shake your head. “otherwise, i would stay.” 

he pulls you into a hug. you relish in the warmth. you’ve been in this position many times before. but never like this. you aren’t in college anymore. you know you’ll never be this close to him again. and maybe that’s what makes this all so painful. maybe that’s why when you pull away from the hug you catch a glint of something sharp in his hand. you look down at your torso and see your entire body carved open, with his hands digging inside, searching for the words you stole from him. maybe it wasn’t a splinter. maybe it wasn’t an accident. but why won’t he let you have that at least? why does he have to leave and take every trace of him with him?

a car pulls up. mingyu’s father. you recognize the paint job on it. you both stand. he faces you facing him.

“are you happy?” you ask him. 

he smiles, wrinkles appearing all over his face. “i can’t wait. 

you help him and his father pack everything into the car. you say hi to his mother. she asks you to stay for dinner; you tell her how you have to get back to the city. 

you say your final goodbye to mingyu. and watch his dad’s car pull away. you don’t know when you’ll see him next. and it’s only once the car is entirely out of view, do you realize you’re still wearing the scarf you gifted him. you take one last inhale of your hometown and board the train back

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Bad Reaction (Eldest Supershort)

(A/N: I have had this in my head for a while, but Arya showing Iz her scars and revealing the curse Durza left finally gave me a bit of a push for this. Again, Arya and Glen are Platonic Soulmates, Fyrn Breol, and have fought together for 50-60 years, a majority of those without Fäolin. And they just learned like two to three weeks ago that their best friend is alive, only for them both to start going through massive trauma recovery 'it gets way worse before it gets better' type deals. For even further context, Arya is very, very out of it here and just knows that Glen seems to be hurt and is singleminded on fixing that.)

{Glen and Arya tried to test the curse Durza left in her scars. Just a little nick with a scalpel over one of them, just enough to draw blood, and Glen would heal the cut to test if the curse allowed full healing of new wounds over the old.

It didn't...she had warned him that it would be bad, but...for a moment, he lost her again and he didn't know....}

~~~~

BAD REACTION (SHORT)

Arya had seen Glenwing cry before. She had seen him cry at funerals, when he saw newly hatched little birds, when he was angry and sad all at once. She’d seen him ugly cry about the good things and the bad, little hiccups escaping him while he laughed at his outburst of emotion or as he tried to hide the tears streaming down his face as he packed up bloodied medical instruments beside the body of a fallen innocent. 

So she couldn’t pinpoint why hearing him crying, body damn near convulsing with the strength of his ragged, gasped sobs, felt so different this time. Maybe it was because she had never heard him cry like this, nothing so pained, so visceral. It sounded like it was being dragged out from his very core, the deepest parts of himself. 

Arya blinked and tried to raise a hand to touch her cheek. They were wet. His tears had fallen on her face, slid down her cheek and splashed on her forehead. For some reason her movement had Glenwing redoubling his sobs, and it was only when he tightened his grip did Arya realize the man was holding her cradled against his chest, arms wrapped tight around her body, the left one unyielding in places where there should have been some softness yet still so warm. 

Her throat hurt. So instead of speaking she reached out to him and managed to brush fingertips on his neck, unable to raise her hand any higher. Fuck, she felt so, ridiculously weak, weak and sore and like there were thunderclouds arguing in her skull. 

But Glen was crying. Glen was crying and he could be hurt so he had to come first, he was hurting and hurting bad, so she could wait. Fyrn Breol takes care of each other. Pick up the pieces, bring each other back. And Glen was crying and whatever had her muscles aching and body encased in lightning, that could wait until Glen…until Glen was okay because fuck, he was all she had left, and she couldn’t let him get hurt–

“Spirits, I thought I killed you!” If it were even possible, Glen held his friend closer and buried his face into her neck, his words nearly lost to the choked sounds of his tears. He rocked them both back and forth, trying to find some way to breathe. He knew he had to calm down but it had been so…so much worse than he thought, and it had lasted longer even when he had ripped away from the magic–

Head snapping back, a ragged, unimaginable sound of agony, of a soul torn to shreds in an instant. The force of the scream or the body remembering, he didn’t know but blood had already filled her mouth before she convulsed to the ground. Tearing away from the magic felt as though it took eons but in reality it was only three seconds of healing, of attempted healing, crimson still trickling from the tiny cut they had made to test it. The seizures didn’t stop when the link was broken, a handful more seconds until she stilled and her eyes were still open–

“Ari, your heart stopped.” Glen forced it out with a ragged gasp, and, unable to stop himself, his sobbing began anew, curling around her as if to try and protect her from his own memories. “I thought I killed you, I killed you, I didn’t know if I could get you back, and I–I thought–”

A hand settled on the back of his neck. 

“Got me back, though.” Oh, her voice. It was rough and barely above a croak, but he could hear the gentle smile there. “You didn’t kill me, birdbrain.” Arya rested her cheek on the top of his head. “He did. A couple times. But hey…I’m here now. You brought me back.”

“I thought I killed you.”

“I know.” 

“I thought I killed you!"

“Shades can…can eat a bag of the fattest of dicks.”

When he pulled back and saw her cracked, wild smile, tired and sore and teeth stained with blood but very, very much alive and very much still the Arya he knew…

Glenwing broke out in a tearstained laugh and pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t…don’t do that to me again!” 

“Yeah, I’d…like to avoid that too.”

[pillowsickfics]

okay i know no one requested this but i wanted to get something up for one of the couples and cynthia and maverick are actually so fucking cute i was like grinning ear to ear while writing this! it’s a little short but i hope you enjoy anyways!!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Cynthia blearily opened her eyes against the deep sleep she was pulled out of. For a few moments, she didn’t know where she was. He groggily looked around and realized she was not in her own apartment, but in her boyfriend’s apartment. What time was it? She groaned lightly and rolled over to pick up her phone from the nightstand. 2:47. What on earth could have dragged her out of sleep? She knew she was always a heavy sleeper, it took a decent amount on commotion to make her stir in the middle of the night and—

A loud retch came from the restroom down the hall.

Cynthia blinked hard, trying to clear her vision and head as she processed the sound she heard.

“Maverick?” She called out, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed.

Another heave was all she got in reply.

She still felt extremely out of it, but there was a slight sense of urgency now. She could have sworn Maverick was right next to her when she fell asleep, but at the moment her brain was hardly working and she just wanted to get to the bottom of this. The sound couldn’t be Maverick’s roommate Laurie, since he went to spend the night with his own boyfriend.

She made her way into the hall and squinted against the light that leaked from under the door.

“Maverick? Sweetheart, is that you?” She asked as she experimentally pushed open the door. There was no reply, but also no resistance, so she swung the door fully opened and let out a tiny gasp at the sight before her.

“Oh honey..” She cooed.

Maverick was kneeling in front of the toilet, one arm wrapped around his belly and the other gripping the rim of the toilet for dear life. His gray shirt had sweat stains under his arms and on his back, clearly indicating a fever of some kind. His face was about 5 shades too pale and his eyes were watery and bloodshot. Perhaps the worst of it though, was the way his stomach was audibly churning beneath his arm.

Maverick was panting over the basin of the toilet, letting out pitiful whimpers with every exhale. He seemed so out of it that he didn’t even notice Cynthia standing right next to him. Suddenly, another full body heave took over, lurching him forward with sheer force. A wave of watery puke splashed into the water below.

If Cynthia wasn’t awake before, she sure as hell was now. She kneeled beside her ailing boyfriend and began rubbing gentle circles into his broad shoulder blades. With her other hand, she grabbed some toilet paper, wiping the drool and vomit from his chin and then tossing it into the toilet. She flushed the mess away to spare both her and Maverick from having to look at it longer.

“Mav.. sweetheart.. you poor thing.. what happened? When did you start feeling sick? You should have woken me up..” She murmured, pressing a long kiss into the side of his sweaty hair. She peppered kisses along the nape of his neck as she continued with the circles along his back.

He took a shaky breathe and spat into the toilet. “I don’t.. I woke up and I felt sick.. I didn’t want to bother..” He said miserably.

She frowned and gave his forehead a gentle kiss. “You could never bother me with this..”

A burp made it’s way up, and he muffled it into his hand. He was grateful for the small break, but a gurgle in his belly told him he was far from done.

Cynthia was finally able to get a proper look at her boyfriends tummy, and she frowned at what she saw. While his belly was usually a bit squishy in general, it looked unnaturally distended over the waistband of his boxers. She gently placed her small hand on top of it and was surprised at how warm to the touch it was as well. She kneaded the skin beneath her hand gently, taking care not to agitate his stomach further.

He sighed softly in relief, and let himself relax for a moment, but all of a sudden his back straightened and he felt thick, sour saliva begin to pool in his mouth. His jaw tingled and felt heavy and he once again buried his head into the basin of the toilet.

This time around, he had hardly anything left in him to expel. His entire body convulsed with a retch that barely brought up a tiny stream of bile. He dry heaved for several more seconds, but to no avail. He was empty. Whether his body got the memo or not was apparently out of his control.

Cynthia pressed a kiss to his temple and got up to grab a few things. As she was leaving, Maverick gave her his signature “kicked puppy” eyes and Cyn felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

“I’ll come right back honey, I’m just gonna grab a few things.. you’re burning up.. and you’re dehydrated..” She explained, stealing another quick kiss before leaving down the hall. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, a few fever reducers from the medicine cabinet. She also spent a little bit of extra time to brew some ginger tea, hoping it would soothe Maverick’s upset belly. When she finally returned, she couldn’t help but wince at what she saw.

Maverick had apparently found it too exhausting to stay sitting up, because he was fast asleep curled into a tight ball on the bathroom floor tile, looking impossibly small despite his large frame. Cynthia cooed sympathetically and set her things on the counter.

“Maverick,” She said, leaning down to shake him by the shoulder, “Wake up darling.. don’t fall asleep just yet..”

He groaned and rubbed at his face.

“Cyn.. I don’t feel good..” he whimpered, slowly sitting up with her steadying hand behind his back.

She nearly snorted at the sheer understatement.

“I know honey.. I’m so sorry.. But I have some things that will help.. do you think you can stomach some pills?” She asked, carding a hand through his sweaty brown hair.

He shrugged pitifully, and she figured it was close enough, so she placed the pills in one of his hands and the water bottle in the other. He choked it down and shut his eyes at the impending nausea. Cynthia rubbed his back through the whole cycle before he decided the medicine wasn’t going to come back up for the time being.

“Alright sweetheart.. how about we get you back to bed, okay? You can have some tea, and go right back to sleep..”

Maverick shook his head. “Might puke again..” As if to punctuate the statement, he let out an airy burp into his fist. Even if his stomach had settled for a bit, he knew it wouldn’t last too long.

“I’ll put a bin by our bed, okay? You’ll feel so much better once you’re laying down..” Cynthia felt a surge of affection for her boyfriend and she just stood up, pulling his head against her middle and stroked his hair gently. He was still too warm. She frowned and let her cold hand rest on his forehead, to which he sighed heavily and leaned into.

“Okay,” He said hesitantly. “Let’s go to bed..”

She smiled and offered a hand to help him up. He pulled himself up and swayed slightly before being caught under the arm by Cynthia, who nearly toppled over herself. He was much larger than her, so she struggled with the weight. Maverick, to his credit, did his best to keep most of his weight off of her as the pair staggered down the hallways and back to the comfort of the bedroom.

Maverick all but collapsed onto his side of the bed, pulling blankets and pillows around him and creating a kind of nest to envelope him. Even the short walk from the bathroom to the bed left him utterly spent, and his eyelids began to close involuntarily. He watched absentmindedly as Cynthia ran around the room, getting water and tea and a plastic bag-lined bucket for him, and a dopey smile spread across his face. She’s so pretty. She’s so caring. He was so lucky to have her.

After a few minutes, Cynthia finally finished setting up the room and slid under the covers herself. Immediately, Maverick turned towards her and buried his face in her tummy, whining quietly.

She smiled, mostly to herself, as she began to scratch up and down his back and massage his scalp is slow, soothing motions.

“Goodnight baby.. I love you..”

No words were needed on his end. Maverick kissed her tummy and squeezed his grip slightly, and Cynthia knew that he loved her too.

[heartxshaped-bruises]

                                              ✧･ﾟ  𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑.

       ❛❛Ha, told ya she's gonna come!❜❜ The words lacked the distinctive slurring of the past hours that Rafe had spent in the cell. It even earned a funny glance from the irritated deputy, but the guy seemed more peeved by the fact that his emergency contact showed up, after all - and that it deprived him of a reason to keep THE TALL MENACE behind bars for the night. Even for his standard, Rafe went off the fucking rails tonight. His knuckles still hurt, bruised and bloody from dishing out. A familiar sensation, even through the heavy fog of inebriation.

       When the doors swung open, Rafe's head was spinning. Both from the booze and the sudden realization kicking in. The tiny, reasonable part in the back of his head started to cuss and writhe. Fuck. What the hell was he thinking? Why was the stupid, smug grin still plastered across his face as if this was a win? It made his gross mug look even worse, you bet. Shit. Rafe pulled on the cuffs chaining him to the bench and huffed. If he avoided looking at her, maybe there was a chance that she'd just piss off again. God knows he nailed that for a whole, fucking year. THE HAPPY ENDING he deserved. But instead, his drunk brain steered his gaze up, just in the moment their eyes met again for the first time in forever. And instead of mirroring the nausea forming in the pit of his stomach at her sight, the skeevy grin just widened and swallowed any hint of resemblance. ❛❛Hey, Miss Jessica...❜❜

~~~~~

       To say that Rafe wasn't weirded out at least a little bit by the family would've been a lie. He was shit at lying, anyway. Got told so by his brothers and Nana, whom he'd parked in the shade of the church for now while he approached the others in the parking lot. HE'D NOTICED THEM BEFORE. Hell, they stood out like a sore thumb at mass. Some people were looking at them the same way they sometimes eyed his own family, so maybe that was the main motivation why he decided to check on them. Someone should, right? And if anyone knew about cars acting up here, it was him.

       ❛❛Yeah... if ya ask me, you should get that checked❜❜, he told the father after a look under the hood. ❛❛Could be just the engine overheating and ya should be good to go after 20 minutes or so, but it could also be A BROKEN STARTER. Wouldn't recommend a bump-starting if ya wanna keep your catalyzer...❜❜ Rafe rubbed the back of his neck. A few month had passed since his base training and his hair finally started to grow longer again. The only downside to the military, in his opinion. ❛❛Uh... if ya want, I can make a call and get someone to tow your car. My family's workshop's just up the hill❜❜, he offered. His gaze wandered to the two girls and he tried not to linger too long on THE WEIRD-ASS OUTFIT. ❛❛I could take your daughters with my truck and meet you there, Sir?❜❜ // @nanlanmo

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Push - a Malevolent AU one-shot fic

They survived. John got his promised body. They're free. But Arthur is still blind, and now, he no longer has someone in his head, helping him around.

He's not all right. It's all coming out of him in anger. Today, John needed a break... and, left alone, Arthur tries a four-legged substitute.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

AO3

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

“How about Spot? That’s a good name for a dog, right?” said Arthur.

The dog continued as it was: panting, a bit of slobbering, occasionally stopping all of that noise so it could (presumably) lick its face.

It. Could be a boy, could be a girl. Arthur didn’t know. He petted its head, feeling its long and floppy ears. “Yeah, that’s a stupid name, huh? You probably don’t even have spots.”

No reply, of course. Stubborn; willful. So that really narrowed it down. “I know,” said Arthur. “I’m going to call you John.”

“Woof,” said the dog, which was possibly assent.

“Take that, you ass,” Arthur muttered, and burst into tears.

#

This was not a seeing-eye dog. Arthur knew about them, was fascinated with the concept, and had read all about them before he’d lost his sight. 

This was not that. This was just a dog that had wandered into the tiny house because fucking Jackass Doe had left the damn door open when he’d stormed out.

And Arthur hadn’t realized it was open. For all he knew, the place was filled with raccoons now. Or ants. Or had been robbed bloody blind (haha, see what he did there).

He sniffled again. (Jackass Doe wasn’t here to hear it, so it was fine.) “He’s not coming back this time, and I don’t fucking want him to, you hear?”

The dog—its chin resting on his knee—whined.

Dogs needed things. What did dogs need? Arthur had never kept a dog. Food and water, probably; and he knew he’d have to walk it.

That would be interesting. He wasn’t sure how to pick up the thing’s leavings when he couldn’t fucking see them. “This is going to be a pain, but you know what?” Arthur said, rubbing the dog’s neck. “It’s still less trouble than other messes certain people made!” he shouted at the Jackass, at the boxes, at the still-open door.

(He hoped John could hear him.)

(He knew John wasn’t close enough to hear him.)

“I probably need to hire someone, huh?” he said softly. At least that would be possible thanks to the success of his last three songs. 

Once he figured out how to get help without asking for it, that is.

Because he didn’t want to ask for it, that’s why.

(And it absolutely was not the reason Jackass Doe had left.)

(Fine. Maybe it was.)

He supposed the door should be shut.

“I can do this,” he said, standing. It would’ve been easier, certainly, if they’d finished unpacking first, but that had been delayed because Jackass Doe wanted Arthur familiar with the whole house before they filled it with their things, and Arthur knew that was totally unnecessary because he could figure it out as they went.

It had started the whole damn fight.

Not until you can tell me how many drawers there are!

A thousand! Two! It doesn’t fucking matter! Just put the fucking forks in one, and I’ll figure it out!

It had seemed really important at the time.

“Woof,” said the dog.

What did dogs eat, anyway? “I don’t have any rabbit, or anything,” said Arthur, hands out, trying to find the door by feel. His foot hit a box, and he tried to shuffle around it. “I can get to the store. I’ll buy you something.” That had been a primary reason for buying this house, though it was small: a supply store in close walking distance, on this side of the street.

Arthur made it around the box and wiped his face on his sleeve because the handkerchiefs were packed. “I’ll fucking find them,” he vowed, trying to orient toward the door again. “I don’t need him.” 

Which he had yelled.

Which was when Jackass left.

Which was why he wasn’t coming back this time.

Arthur found the door by running into it. “Ha,” he said, and closed and locked it. “We’re safe now, buddy.”

The dog started barking.

Something hissed in return.

Oh. Raccoons (?) were already in the house. To the symphony of barking and hissing, Arthur turned and opened the door again, hoping this would take care of itself.

Instead, the sounds took off, some kind of weird feet slapping, dog claws scratching, and the whole cacophony raged into the kitchen (something crashed and broke), then into the bedroom (he distinctly heard the lamp fall and the bulb shatter), and only then back out the front door with the dog on its heels.

Whatever it was hit him pretty hard on its way out. It felt like getting socked by a feather-covered wall.

Arthur landed heavily and stared after them, seeing nothing. Anticipating, with horror, trying to clean up broken glass he could not see.

They didn’t even have a phone (though Jackass had threatened to get one). It didn’t matter. Who could he call, anyway?

Arthur leaned against the door, tired, alone, complicit in his own desertion, and hid his face in his hands.

#

The dog came back.

A while later, so did the Jackass.

“What the fuck did you do?” bellowed John Doe, who bellowed nearly everything, who was hard to read when he’d first got his body because he’d only ever had vocal cords designed to proclaim.

Arthur lifted his head from where he’d pillowed it on the dog. He was in the middle of the living room floor; there was glass in the kitchen and glass in the bedroom, and he’d cut himself twice before giving it up as a bad job.

There was still a sliver in his thumb. He could feel it, but he couldn’t see it. “I suppose you’re happy now,” his mouth said before his head could catch up. “You were right and I’m helpless. Go to hell.”

“Oh, what the fuck,” said John, kneeling beside him.

John smelled so good. He always smelled so good, improbably smoky, somehow herbal, like he’d wrapped country air in a cologne. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine." 

John took his hand anyway. “Splinter. Hold on.”

Arthur knew he was supposed to say ‘sorry.’ He knew he’d been unreasonable, weaponized all the horror of loss (John in his head, sight in his eyes) that soured the miracle of John’s body. All that came out was, “I thought you weren’t coming back this time.”

John snorted. 

Arthur had touched this new face before, felt the stubble, the enviably strong jaw, the full lips. He had glass in his hand and dared not touch now. “I told you I don’t need you.”

“You’ve said worse. Also, it was bullshit. Also, why the fuck do you have a dog?”

“His name is John,” said Arthur, “because you were gone.”

John sighed. The dog’s tag jingled. “I just… needed some air. And her name is Daisy, and she belongs to a neighbor.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Arthur was doing everything out of order.

“It’s been two godsdsmned weeks,” said John, who’d removed the glass and was wrapping Arthur’s bloodied finger. “Maybe give yourself a damn minute to get used to all this. Dumbass.”

Arthur sniffled. “You should be gone for good. I’m not any good to you like this.”

“Any good? What the fuck are you talking about? It was never about benefits or I would have left you in the prison pits.”

The walk had done John good. He was being all reasonable, and it cut the legs out from under Arthur’s fight. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I keep pushing you. I know you don’t like to be pushed, but why the hell is there goose shit in the kitchen?”

“The door…”

A pause. “I left it open.”

“Yeah.”

The dog said, “Woof.”

“I’m still gonna make you learn the house,” John warned.

“I don’t want—"

“And how many steps to the store.”

“No!”

“And how to run the—"

“I said no, John!”

“Why the fuck not?”

The dog growled.

“Because I need you!” Arthur cried, voice cracking. “And it feels like you don’t want me to anymore!”

John sighed.

Arthur’s face burned.

“Come on, moron,” said John, pulling Arthur to his feet.

John was so big. “You’re too tall,” Arthur complained, leaning against that broad chest.

“Tell it to the committee,” said John, walking him back to their room. He got Arthur onto the bed. “Stay.”

“Fuck you.”

“Uh-huh.” John cleaned up the broken light bulb. There was silence, otherwise; the clinking of broken glass, the panting of the dog (who’d followed them), the brooding of Arthur Lester.

Arthur sniffled.

“I’m not leaving you,” said John, dumping the mess into an empty box.

“You should. I’m a burden.”

“You’re an ass. You’re not a burden.”

“All the more reason to go.”

John sighed and sat on the bed. His weight dipped it, and Arthur fell into him.

Neither moved to correct this.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Arthur whispered. “We did what he said. We got the damn stone. We broke the… the thing.”

“We sure did. And I got my body, as promised. And he let us go.”

Arthur turned his face, speaking into John’s shoulder. “I’m blind. I’m still blind, but I don’t have you to guide me.”

He hadn’t said that before. They hadn’t said. There was the ritual and Larson and the stone and Kayne, and then running and reclaiming his bank account and talking to police. There’d been no chance to say it all.

“I think it’s sort of what he said back in Carcosa,” John said softly. “What was it? ‘Only one walks away unscathed, and neither of you go home.’”

“We are home,” said Arthur defiantly.

“We’re making a new home. Not the same.” John lifted his arm to wrap it around Arthur’s shoulders.

Arthur leaned in, inhaling the smokiness, the Johnness, and thought, he is home. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’ll figure it out. Like I said, I’m not leaving you.”

“You should.”

“No more of that, fuck.” John shifted, lifting Arthur as easily as he had the broken lamp, and lay beside him on the bare mattress. “Not leaving.”

“Okay.” Arthur couldn’t push back anymore.

The dog jumped onto the bed and lay across both their legs.

John laughed. “What the fuck? I’m gone half an hour, and you’ve trained some dog to come into our bed.”

“You were gone eighty years, and the dog is your replacement,” said Arthur.

John laughed and kissed his forehead. “Idiot.”

Arthur closed his useless eyes. He didn’t need them anymore. He felt safe. “I’m sorry.”

“Said that already. Lemme clean up, and we can have some damn lunch before I take the stupid dog home.”

“Not yet.” Arthur tightened his grip on John's torso.

“Not yet. Okay.” John sighed. “At least I didn’t come home to geese all over hell.”

“Do we have to give the dog back?”

“We have to give the dog back. I’ll get you another one. Maybe one of those fancy seeing-eye things.”

“You… you won’t…”

“I won’t leave, even if you can navigate the whole damn city without me. I’m not making myself obsolete, idiot. I’m taking care of you. Different.”

It was so stupid, but Arthur needed to hear those words. He exhaled, tension finally leaving him.

John brushed Arthur’s last tear away, his thumb rough and warm. “Shut up for a while.”

“Yeah. You, too. Jackass Doe.”

John laughed. “Jackass and Bullhead, private investigators.”

“It works.”

“Too stubborn to let your case go unsolved!” John said, having a great time.

“I love you,” said Arthur, who always did everything out of order.

“I love you, too,” said John, who was used to it. “Fucking snooze already so we can eat when you get up.”

“No,” said Arthur, and fell into a contented, healing doze.

[kaphyr]

KRDK Excerpt | The Long Defeat Ch 43

“Loving other people without a script is scary. [It] involves being willing to let go of guarantees―and love and trust your partners anyway.” ― Franklin Veaux, More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Ethical Polyamory

Izuku gets fucked. Part 1.

Fic Link: The Long Defeat

KRDK Excerpt

Eijirō has to leave soon.

“How much time is left?” Izuku steals another bite of beef while Eijirō’s looking at his phone.

“Uh… twenty minutes? But I can ask Fujiki-san―my PR―to pick me up from here. So, half an hour?” When Eijirō looks up, he catches Izuku stealing another bite and smiles.

“We should be quick then.”

In less than 10 minutes, they’ve finished eating, piling up all the bowls onto the tray and have wheeled it out. Izuku sets the mood, playing slowed and reverbed music on the surround system and finally, finally, Izuku is sinking down on his cock. 

Izuku wasn’t thinking of taking him to the hilt, but whatever Kacchan did last night left him so soft and open he can even breathe with him all the way up in his lungs. 

“You okay?” Eijirō looks up at him, face slack but for a little frown.

Izuku lifts a little and sinks back down with a moan; his legs are way more sore than he realized. “Yeah, just―” He lifts again, legs trembling a bit, but Eijirō catches him by the hips.

“Wanna lie down instead?”

Izuku bites the inside of his cheek; even if he’s no longer hungover, he’s still tired. “Sorry, it doesn’t hurt, I’m just a little tired, I guess.” He rises and sits back down with a sigh.

“That’s fine; want me to help?” Eijirō repositions his hands and lifts him and―

Oh. Izuku nods and Eijirō pulls him, uses him, like a doll, like a flesh-light― No. ―like he wants him. Like Izuku’s made for him. Like he can’t get enough. 

Red lightning sparkles around him and Izuku breathes out, eyes wide with wonder. He passes a hand through it and even though he’s too slow to catch it, static prickles at his fingertips. 

“De―Deku,” Eijirō calls.

Izuku looks down at him, at where his eyes are so bright. The light hits just right for Izuku to get lost in them. His face is flushed. His lips parted and dewy. In the periphery, it’s like tiny red fireworks.

God, he’s so cute. “Ei,” Izuku calls back.

“I wanna―can I? I wanna cum.” He pulls and lifts and his cock’s so big in Izuku. “You look so―I wanna lay you down and fuck my cum into you.”

Izuku nods and Eijirō lowers him down on his dick and presses them together until they are flush and Izuku’s whining. He flips them over, gently, one hand holding him, the other pressed against the bed―because, of course, Eijirō can easily handle him with just one arm.

Eijirō pulls at his legs and Izuku wraps them around him. “I like how you squeeze when you’re into it.” 

He blushes, squeezes, and Eijirō smiles, biting his lower lip. 

Izuku waits for him to take off the condom, but he doesn’t. He just sinks deep, deep, deep and leans down to take his lips. They half-kiss, half-moan into each other’s mouths. 

Eijirō feels big but not insurmountable. Just fills him up until there’s nothing left, no space even for thoughts. And his kisses are so gentle, so careful―Izuku can’t help but drag his nails down his back. He leans further down, still rocking slow and achingly deep. Kisses down his throat, down his shoulder until Izuku can feel his lips on the bite Kacchan gave him before they went down to the rankings. 

Izuku tries not to breathe too fast, tries to keep moaning as he had, but Eijirō just kisses that bruise and goes back to his neck. Izuku lets out a breath and takes Eijirō’s face in his hands. His eyes are a little unfocused, his lips a little more plump than when he arrived. Izuku kisses him and Eijirō gets a little heavier on him, fucks a little harder and Izuku grunts into his mouth with every thrust. 

Just as they lose rhythm, Eijirō reaches down and strokes at Izuku’s hard dick, hand going unsteady when he groans and grinds against Izuku. Izuku’s dick is still sore from Kacchan torturing it, but the sting feels just as good as it did last night. Eijirō doesn’t stop stroking, doesn’t stop kissing Izuku, not until, he’s digging his nails in his back and squeezing his thighs and shooting cum on both their stomachs.

Eijirō touches his forehead to Izuku’s and they both close their eyes as they pant.

[mistrdctr]

The touch of those hands sends electricity through Stephen's whole frame; That thin layer of fabric in between Tony's palms and the sorcerer's elbows does little to stop the other's warmth to sink into him, waking up an army of butterflies behind a firm sternum, accompanied by a throat working and Strange swallowing as their gazes seem to be glued together here for half an eternity.

Tony's eyes have always mesmerized Stephen, very much so - they're so dark and intriguing, impossibly big, framed by thick lashes that only make those irises appear even more alluring. To be allowed to stare directly into them at this very moment feels intimate, causing tiny hairs on the back of Stephen's neck to stand erect with a shiver that rolls along his spine.

He wishes for the other to not pull back too soon, to let them just enjoy this moment a little longer---

But, well, Tony does pull back eventually and that wide smile that's offered to Stephen prompts him to return it all the same, lips stretching in what is just as awkward as before and a little less wholehearted, perhaps. Not that this smile isn't genuine, but... well. It is sheepish in nature, perhaps a bit disappointed, but that's on Stephen himself, really.

Who knows, after all, if the one and only Iron Man is even interested in someone like him? They have been sharing time with one another, yes, and Strange is currently here to visit Tony, after all, but...

Well. Tony could - and can - have literally anyone, as people tend to throw themselves at his feet just because of who he is; A very attractive man, one who's successful and rich on top of that. The sorcerer himself doesn't care about money, about fame, about anything in that regard, really - yet that's not something that would automatically cause him to be considered more than others.

There's also the fact that both of them are very much male. Even though Stephen assumes that the other isn't very straight to begin with - not really caring at all - it's still not something one just talks about offhandedly, 'oh yeah, by the way, I'm very much into men'. Only if the topic arises, perhaps...

And it hasn't, so far.

Clearing his throat, realizing that he's kept staring for minutes even after Tony has spoken, Strange blinks before he pulls his hand away as well, turning his head to the side as his ears start to burn like they're set on fire. His cheeks do the same right after and fuck, he feels embarrassed; Why did he need to stare like that?! Oh god, he must come across like a real creep here. Some weirdo that definitely acted the complete opposite of suave and casual here---

"Y-yeah. ---Yeah, I agree." Clearing his throat for a second time (very much not subtle, Stephen, congratulations), the sorcerer brings a hand up to his hair and brushes through it before he allows his bright irises to wander, suddenly very interested in his surroundings. "It was... very fun, yes. One should just, uh, do some... goofy things more often. It helps to make some shit feel a little less heavy, sometimes..."

His throat feels dry, could go for a cup of water. Or... something else. Anything. Fuck, it's so hot in here; Did someone turn up the heat?! His face is melting, Strange thinks...

He’s   not   even   aware   of   it   until   Stephen   points   it   out   with   both   his   words   and   the   change   of   his   countenance.   Sure,   Tony   felt   the   tightness   and   the   warmth   at   his   chest,   but   he   just   assumed   that   it   was   lingering   happiness   from   the   display   of   silliness.   It   felt   good,   it   made   his   skin   tingle   and   it   elevated   his   good   mood   all   the   more.   And   only   when   Stephen   gives   his   reasoning   does   Tony   realize   that   the   fluttery   feeling   was   caused   by   his   touch.   

“It’s   okay,”   he   says   before   the   logical   part   of   his   brain   could   turn   on.   Steadies   both   Stephen   and   himself   by   cupping   the   other   man’s   elbows,   keeping   him   from   moving   away.   It’s   entirely   too   easy   to   get   lost   in   the   clear   blue   eyes   of   the   other   man,   to   just   linger   in   the   moment,   hold   on   to   it   for   another   second   longer.   But   his   mind   works   fast   —   it’s   both   a   blessing   and   a   curse   —   and   it   makes   Tony   aware   far   too   soon   of   what   he’s   doing.   

Another   smile   offered,   this   one   brighter   but   less   real   as   he   lets   go   of   the   sorcerer,   the   skin   of   his   palms   instantly   missing   the   warmth   of   Stephen.   “I   don’t   mind   being   something   solid   to   lean   on,   should   you   ever   need   it   again.”   As   harmless   of   a   flirt   as   it   was,   he   probably   still   should’ve   kept   his   tongue   bitten.   Far   as   Tony   was   concerned,   he   had   no   idea   whether   Stephen   even   felt   an   inkling   of   attraction   towards   him   as   Tony   did   to   Stephen.   And   until   he   gets   more   proof,   he   should   keep   it   professional.   

“This   was   fun,   honestly.   Very   goofy,   but   I   liked   it.   Kind   of   like   giving   a   fuck   you   to   my   father,   and   I   always   appreciate   opportunities   to   do   so.”   

[juletheghoul]

The Party

AN: No thoughts, only thots about meeting Frankie at a party you were reluctant to go to in the first place. There's infidelity here - so if that's not your jam no worries! Enjoy!

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings; Infidelity, (18+ no minors) piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, unhappy marriage - mentions of divorce.

Word count; 2k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

--

Her lips were parted slightly, her eyes dilated and her pulse was almost visible on the delicate skin of her neck and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

My wife hasn’t looked at me like that in years.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch your name.” He instantly likes her voice and tries to imagine what she’d sound like in bed and for the first time in god knows how long he isn’t ashamed of himself. 

“It’s Francisco - you can call me Frankie.” He shakes her hand, holds onto it probably longer than he should and he knows his dimple is staring her in the face with the way he's smiling. “How do you know James?” He gives her a once over, almost subtly and he’s happy to see her fluster a tiny bit. 

“Oh um - ha I actually don’t - I came with a friend. Maureen - do you know her?” She fiddles with her dress, smoothing it down with her plump lower lip between her teeth. It’s endearing and he wants nothing more than to pull her close - to nuzzle at the hollow of her throat but she looks at his hand when he takes a sip of his beer and the spell is broken. She sees it, he knows she does and there’s nothing he can say. 

Fuck. 

“Oh, I’m sorry - I didn’t realize.” She frowns a little staring at his wedding ring, more flustered than before but now it’s out of embarrassment and he feels cruel, like he’d led her on in some way. 

“Yeah, that’s - sorry that’s-” He doesn’t know what to say to this lovely thing in front of him. 

Technically, yes I’m married but my wife has been cheating on me for years, I just got the proof I needed a couple of days ago and I’m going to divorce her ass. Wanna fuck?

“There you are, have you seen my purse?” His wife came in right on cue and then he was alone with her, a swirl of a skirt left in the pretty woman’s wake - he sighed loudly, not that his wife commented on it - or even noticed for that matter. “There it is - oh look - your buddies are here! Why don’t you catch up with them?” She didn’t look at him as she said it - too busy fixing her lipstick and he knew then that her side piece was here.

He felt nothing. 

“Sure honey.” He spoke the words to her back as she walked away from him - he couldn’t even remember when he stopped watching her go. 

-

The heat was crawling up your body, warming the apples of your cheeks with embarrassment and your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. You moved through the crowd of people you didn’t know, winding through the little groups of them while scanning for Maureen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red shirt she’d been wearing - relief washing over you when you finally saw her.

“Hey- where’d you get to?” She smiled big, looking for the drinks you were supposed to grab. “No drinks?”

“Sorry- There were a bunch of people waiting so I came back.” You did your best to smile through the lie. “I’ll try again in a few.”

If he’s not still standing there.

Your stomach dropped at the thought of running into him again, a groan threatening to claw its way out of your throat. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did he have to be exactly your type? Tall and broad, with that cute dimple and those soft waves- married waves. 

Why did you flirt back?

This question annoyed you a bit, it burned brightly in the back of your mind while you tried - genuinely tried to listen to Maureen chatting about - well whatever the hell she was chatting about. 

You saw his wife walk past the two of you then, a very pretty woman with gorgeously thick hair and Ruby red lips lost in conversation with a burly blond man, if he’d told her that you’d flirted then it would only make sense that she’d glance at you but mercifully she didn’t. Thank christ.

Maureen laughed and pulled you away from your thoughts, introducing you to a few of her friends from college and you busied yourself trying to remember their names, muddling through polite conversation while also counting the hours until she’d be ready to go. It wasn’t so bad though- they weren’t so bad. Her friends, while maybe a bit pretentious, were all in all nice enough and it wasn’t hard to find common interests with a few while she made her rounds until your bladder pulled you towards the bathroom. 

The door to the powder room on the bottom floor was locked, in use. Goddamn it-

“There’s a bathroom just up the stairs and to the left-” One of the hosts saw you standing there and came to the rescue “-please feel free.” With a polite thank you, you climbed up further and further until the door was opening before you. The scene inside froze you in your tracks, it was the blond burly man and Francisco's wife in the middle of a hook-up. 

Your mouth gaped open for half a second before you shut the door - unsure if they’d heard you, unsure if they even cared. 

Couldn’t even be bothered to lock the door???

You ran down the stairs as quickly as you could, almost crashing into the person just coming out of the powder room and after a nervous shuffle from both of you, you were safely tucked away in the enclosed space. After relieving yourself, and splashing your face with cool water came the time to rejoin the fray - maybe if you could make eye contact with Maureen, she would see the discomfort on your face but that was a dead end - she was nowhere to be found. 

I need a cigarette. 

-

He was standing alone on the porch of the house, taking in the cool night air and it seemed as though the Gods or the fates or whoever was responsible for the day was thoroughly enjoying your discomfort. 

“Oh - hi.” He smiled his dimpled smile and it was almost too much - you didn’t know this man, you had no idea what was happening in their marriage but what you did know for sure was how fucking disrespectful it was of this woman to fuck another man while her husband was here. “You okay?” His head tilted, concerned, beautiful. 

“Yeah. Sorry um - you wouldn’t happen to have a smoke would you?” Fingers crossed he’d say yes.

“No sorry - I quit a long time ago.” 

Fuck me sideways, seriously.

“No worries.” You stood there, gawping at him as he leaned his hip against one side of the railings. His smile faded and a neutral realization took its place. 

“Was it with a blond man?” His words were stones in your stomach, boulders being dropped from a great height. 

“What?” You hoped against hope that he wouldn’t make you do this. 

I shouldn’t have fucking come out here.

“It’s okay - it wouldn’t be the first time. It’s funny - I didn’t want to divorce her until I had the proof and I got it a couple of days ago.” He sighed big but it didn’t seem sad or heartbroken. “I’m not naive, it’s nothing new.”

“I’m sorry - I don’t know what to say. Are you going to confront them?” The idea of him storming upstairs and pulling them out of the bathroom for everyone to see made your skin crawl with anxiety. 

“Oh no, nothing so dramatic as that, I don’t care to - haven’t cared in a long time.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just please don’t look at me like that.” You frowned.

“Like what?” It was your head that tilted now.

“Like you pity me - I’m okay, in a couple of days I’ll serve her with the papers and it’ll be done. For now I’d much rather you looked at me the way you did before you knew I was married.” He straightened as he spoke - taking a few slow steps towards you. 

“And how did I look at you before?” He was so tall, so broad and handsome. 

“You looked at me, like you wanted me.” He watched your mouth, licking his bottom lip as he spoke and suddenly it was too hot - your skin was too warm and your tongue followed the example set by him and swiping along your bottom lip. 

-

His grip is almost bruising, but his hands are so much softer than you would have thought and after a harder thrust one of them is sliding under your bra to hold the weight of your breast. 

“You feel so fucking good.” His voice is hoarse, the words clipped as he groans them into your ear. The plush swell of your ass is pressed up tight against his groin, his cock punching up into you in the back of his truck. 

I am letting a married man fuck me in the back of his truck, in a suburban neighbourhood.

The thought bleeds out of your brain with every snap of his hips, with every swirl of his fingers on your swollen clit. Your slick is dripping out around him, soaking the panties he roughly pulled down to fill your aching cunt. His cock sliding in so easily with how aroused you are and it takes everything not to scream out from how good it feels. 

“Feel how fucking hard you made me baby.” He picks up speed, pushing the air out of your lungs with the force of it - your eyes roll back - mouth a wordless ‘O’ as he steals the thoughts out of your head with the slip of his cock and the swirl of his fingers. “Talk to me baby- tell me it feels good.” He pulls you up, his hand moving up to cradle your jaw and bring you towards him in a misaligned kiss. All tongues and pants as he doubles down on his efforts to pull you apart. 

“It’s good - god it’s so fucking good.” Your words are almost slurred and he lets out a breathless laugh before he bites at your ear. 

You’re racing towards your orgasm, the tingle of it spreading from your center out through your limbs and when he pinches your clit between his two wet fingers you fall off the cliff. Euphoria burns through your veins, cunt clenching around him hard enough to make him groan from deep in his throat. 

“Where do you want it?” He grits it out through mashed teeth and you pull away, bending forward as best you can. 

“On my ass.” You pull your dress up past your hips, displaying yourself for him shamelessly. 

“Fuck-” He sounds pained and you can’t help but look back as best you can, the pain in your neck is worth the vision of him, his eyes down watching as he pumps his cock against your ass. One of his hands gripping you and with a shuddering moan he paints you in himself. “Jesus baby- fuck that’s pretty.” He rubs the sensitive tip through the mess on your skin before finally finding a tissue and wiping most of it away. 

The cab is steamy when you exit, your hair a mess, his shirt untucked but both of you giddy with post orgasmic bliss - wordlessly parting to join the party but not before saving your number in his phone.

After the blood has cooled and it’s time to go, he catches your eye at the door with a wink and a promise and as you walk out with Maureen you hope he’ll call soon. 

-

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @danniburgh @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @hellovanessax @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @anaaaispunk @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @mandosmistress @deadhumourist @felicisimor @tuskens-mando @no-droids-on-sunday @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @kissasith @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @lorosette @softsweetedbeauty @c4psicle @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @ameliaofasgard @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @planetariumx @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @evelynseventyr @send-me-to-valhalla

[husbandohunter]

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

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

Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)

[sluttywonwoo]

adante, andante || j.ww x reader

Summary: when in greece… you lose your virginity to your best friend?? that’s how the saying goes, right??? (based off of the song andante, andante from mamma mia! here we go again)

Warnings: swearing, smut

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist

Waves lapped at the side of the boat gently as it rocked on the salty Mediterranean Sea, tugging at its anchor deep below the surface. The blazing sun was warming everything it touched, you included, and if it wasn’t for what was happening on top of the boat right now it probably would have lulled you to sleep a long time ago.

Wonwoo was laying in between your legs, leaving wistful kisses along your neck and collarbone. You moaned lowly and turned your head to the side to give him more access as he continued to explore your body with his mouth and hands. He pulled at your bikini straps with his teeth playfully as you tangled your hands in his still-damp curls.

“Wonwoo,” you panted breathlessly, not wanting to stop but knowing you had to.

“Hm?” He looked up eagerly, lips pinker than usual, warm brown eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“I- you know I’m a virgin, right?”

Your best friend swallowed and then nodded hesitantly. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I should’ve realized.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. “I, um, just thought you should know.”

He nodded again and wiped his hands on his swim trunks nervously. “Yeah, no thanks for telling me. I was being stupid I shouldn’t have-“

“No, I liked it,” you blurted, perhaps a little too quickly.

Wonwoo chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, looking you up and down. You noted with a hint of a smile how even though his hair was wet, curls still stuck out in the back.

“I liked it too.”

“We… don’t have to stop,” you said softly.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the offer. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to.”

His eyes darkened and he grinned, suddenly much more confident than he had been a few moments ago.  “Oh, I want to.”

You smiled and lounged back on the deck as he leaned forward over you and pressed his lips to yours once again. He tasted like salt and champagne, with just a hint of orange juice. An odd combination, but addicting nonetheless.

You wondered if the mimosas you had shared earlier lingered on your lips too, or if the salt water overpowered it and had erased any trace of the fruity drinks.

Wonwoo thrust his hips up against you ever so slightly and you whined into another kiss, silently begging him to do it again. It wasn’t much, but the tiny bit of friction the movement did offer was delicious and you needed more of it.

As if he could read your mind, he repeated the motion, deeper this time so that the two of you were flush against each other. The only thing that separated you for that brief moment was the fabric of your swimsuits.

You could feel him through his shorts, already half hard. You ached to touch him, to make him feel good, but nerves held you back. You’d never done any of this after all- well you’d tried blowing your ex-boyfriend once in a parking lot after a movie, but you choked. Literally. You had been completely unprepared and ended up nearly throwing up on his dick after going too far, too fast. After that, you swore you’d never try it ever again, but now your mouth was watering at the thought of having Wonwoo in your mouth. Still, you weren’t sure if you had the courage.

“Fuck.”

“What is it, love?” Wonwoo asked, lifting his head. His eyes still held that same intensity, but his expression betrayed a touch of concern.

“Keep doing that,” you gasped.

“What, this?” he asked and thrust toward you again.

“Yes.”

Wonwoo chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“No, why are you laughing?” You pouted.

“Because we’re just- I mean we’re dry humping, essentially,” he explained. “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.” He reached a hand behind your back and pulled the remaining string that was holding your bikini top up loose. “I mean, if I’m making you feel this good now, imagine what I can do when I’m actually touching you.”

Somewhere along the line your best friend’s goofy demeanor had fallen away and been replaced with this cocky attitude and you didn’t mind one bit.

You let the hand that was still holding your bikini to your chest fall to the side, and with it the top.

“Jesus Christ,” Wonwoo mumbled to himself as he stared.

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ve seen boobs before.”

“Not yours.”

You wanted to roll your eyes again, ask him how often that line worked on other girls, but truth be told it was working like a fucking charm on you. You had to look away and bite your lip to keep from smiling like an idiot.

Wonwoo reached out and trailed a finger down your now-exposed chest in awe. He brought his hand back up and ever so lightly brushed the tip of his thumb over one of your nipples, repeating the motion with more pressure when you moaned his name.

His breath caught in his throat as your nipples perked under his fingers, pinching them gently. He lowered his head down to your chest and replaced one of the hands on your tits with his mouth.

You whimpered and arched up toward him as he nipped at your sensitive skin with his teeth, sending tingles down your spine.

You had never been touched like this by anybody. You’d given yourself a hand (or rather, a couple of fingers) before, of course, but it was nothing compared to this.

Wonwoo’s hands traveled down to your waist where the hem of your bathing suit bottoms rested on your hips. He tugged at them impatiently.

“Lift up for me, baby,” he ordered softly.

You did as you were told and let him take them off. He twirled them around on a finger, smirking at you before tossing them off to the side.

“Idiot,” you scoffed.

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He paused for a second, almost like he was surprised by your answer, but shook it off. His gaze traveled down your body to between your legs and locked there.

“Shit, y/n,” he gulped.

“What? What is it?” you asked nervously, hoping he wasn’t seeing something he didn’t like. Maybe not all pussies looked like that- but no, you’d watched porn before. That couldn’t be it. “Wonwoo?” you tried again, nudging him with your knee.

“Sorry.” He blinked and looked back up at you. “You just, you’re really…”

“Use your words, Wonwoo,” you teased.

“I really wanna taste you,” he admitted weakly, then cleared his throat to compose himself. “But we can do that another time. I don’t want to push you, especially since it’s your first time.”

You just nodded along as his words echoed in your head.

I really wanna taste you.

Another time.

He’d want to do this again? He’d want you again?

“I’m gonna start with two fingers, okay?”

Wonwoo’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you focused back in on him holding his middle and ring finger up for you to see.

“Okay.” Your voice wavered as you spoke.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised.

You stared at the clouds above you and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You flinched when you felt him touch you for the first time. He froze and looked back up at your face to gauge your reaction.

“Sorry,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet,” he said and held up his hand so that you could see your own arousal glistening on his fingers in the sunlight.

You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “I’m sorry!”

“What did I just say about apologizing?” “S-” Wonwoo glared at you, knowing you were about to apologize for apologizing. “Force of habit,” you mumbled.

“Never apologize for being turned on. It’s hot,” he said and brought his fingers up to his mouth. You thought back to a few seconds ago when he said he was desperate to taste you and watched as he licked your wetness off of his hand. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“What did you just say about apologizing?” you mocked, unable to say anything else about the comment he just made.

He rolled his eyes at you like he always did, but positioned his hand at your entrance anyway. He leaned down to kiss you again as he finally slid the two fingers into you. You moaned in relief at the feeling.

Wonwoo kept his fingers in place, letting you adjust to having them inside of you. You kind of wanted him to keep them there forever, not moving, just like they were, but you knew he was getting impatient too.

You moved your hips a little, signaling him to move as well and he was happy to oblige. He went slow, like he had promised, moving his fingers in a “come hither” motion.

“Fuck,” you gasped and let your head fall back. “Fuck, Wonwoo, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please…” you trailed off, your thoughts too jumbled to form a coherent sentence.

Your best friend took mercy on you and curled his fingers up further, pushing into you all the way to his knuckles. You cried out when he brushed against your g-spot for the first time and clenched your hands by your sides, mumbling profanities under your breath.

He praised you as he helped you fall apart, your name tumbling from his lips followed by ‘good girl’.

His fingers were definitely bigger than yours, longer too, and you wondered to yourself why the two of you hadn’t started doing this earlier.

You opened your eyes briefly to look at his face, flushed pink, brows furrowed in concentration. His eyes were darker than you had ever seen them, nearly black like the sea at dusk, a striking antithesis to the dazzling blue ocean beneath you.

“Wonwoo, wait,” you panted and reached out for the hand that wasn’t currently inside of you.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no it’s not that,” you stammered as you tried to catch your breath. “I just,” you paused, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m just close.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened with realization. “So did you want me to keep going or-”

You shook your head. “I want you.”

Wonwoo nodded, swallowed nervously, and pulled his fingers out of you slowly. He pushed himself up into a kneeling position and shimmied out of his swim shorts.

It was your turn to stare. You’d never seen your best friend naked before. To be fair, the boy was shirtless around you all the time, but that wasn’t the same as being butt-ass naked in front of you like he was now.

There were those butterflies again, fluttering around in your chest and stomach relentlessly. Something about the way Wonwoo was looking at you, something about the intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat.

You had never really let yourself think about how, uhm… well-off your best friend was, but now that his dick was literally staring you in the face you knew your estimate would have been way off anyway. Wonwoo always talked a big game, but you didn’t think he’d actually have the capability to back it up.

“My eyes are up here,” Wonwoo teased, making heat rush to your face. He lowered himself back over you with a smirk and pushed your hair out of your face delicately. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “I’m sure if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure if you’re sure,” he repeated and grinned.

“Just do it already,” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Wow, so romantic,” he scoffed as he lined himself up. “Are you ready?”

You nodded again, suddenly overcome with nerves. You’d been doing so well, why were you freaking out now? You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you trusted Wonwoo more than anyone you knew, he was your best friend and would never do anything to hurt you. You didn’t want to experience this with anyone else.

“I’m a little nervous,” you admitted. “Can you go slow?” Like before?

His eyes softened at your request and he nodded. “I’ll go as slow as you want, y/n. We can stop whenever. Just tell me what you need.”

You tensed, braced yourself for the stretch- for the pain you’d heard about all your life, but it never came. He pushed himself into you at an agonizing pace, pausing every inch or so to give you time to get used to the feeling. The sensation was new, but it wasn’t bad. Your body felt warm all over and the only way to describe what you were feeling was full.

Wonwoo’s head fell back and he cursed, hips jerking instinctively. You squeaked out a sound you didn’t know you were capable of making and laughed.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said breathlessly, smiling up at your best friend reassuringly.

“You okay?”

“Never better.”

“Are you hurting?” he pressed, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“No, feels good.”

“You’ll tell me if it doesn’t, right?”

“Yes, Wonwoo,” you sighed impatiently. “Less talking, more fucking.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “As you wish.”

You groaned. “Don’t go all Princess Bride on me while we’re having sex, I’m already turned on enough.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side to keep from laughing. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He retaliated by leaning down and peppering kisses all over your face and neck, breaking your resolve.

“Okay, okay!” you cried.

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world,” he whispered in between kisses. “It would be a pity to damage yours.”

“You’re not even using context! How many fucking times have you seen this movie?”

He shrugged. “Too many to count.”

“Oh, so not very many then?”

“Fuck you!”

“You already are.”

“You get on my fucking nerves,” he growled.

“What are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, biting your bottom lip.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He clenched his jaw and put a hand on your thigh to steady himself. “Are you good to keep going?”

“God, yes. Please move.”

“All you had to do was ask nicely, baby.”

Despite his cockiness he set a painstaking pace. He thrust into you gently, gauging your reaction each time. Lust and patience were both reflected in his eyes, wrestling for control. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. He was so fucking beautiful and he was yours, if but for a moment.

“Is this alright?” he asked in a strained voice.

You wanted to tell him to go faster, beg him to fuck you harder, but the words wouldn’t come. You were already too far gone to string together thoughts, let alone coherent sentences.

“Is that a yes?”

You managed to lift your arm and give him a thumbs up.

“I can slow down if you want,” he offered.

“No!” you choked out desperately.

“Do you want me… to go faster?”

“P-please.”

“Fuck, okay, I can do that,” he said, not sounding entirely confident about it.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back as he gradually built momentum until he was just shy of railing you like a pornstar.  

“Fuck, y/n, your cunt is so goddamn tight.”

You thought you were going to have a stroke hearing the filthy words that were coming out of your best friend’s mouth, and felt yourself clench around his cock.

“Are you close?” Wonwoo panted as his thrusts started getting sloppier.

He obviously wanted you to finish first, but you could tell he was already teetering on the edge. His muscles were taut with restraint and sweat gathered on his brow as he concentrated on holding off.

With a shaky hand he used his thumb to massage your clit, applying just enough pressure to drive you crazy.

“Yes, yes, yes, Wonwoo, I’m so close- I’m-I’m gonna cum,” you whined, feeling yourself start to tip over the edge.

But just before you could, Wonwoo pulled out and finished on your stomach with a moan of your name as streaks of white painted your skin.

He looked so pretty getting off like that that you couldn’t even be mad. The way his whole body tensed in anticipation and his face scrunched up in pleasure, the way his mouth fell open and his bottom lip trembled as he lost himself … you’d be replaying the image in your head for days.

Wonwoo hadn’t even caught his breath before his attention was back on you. He used the same two fingers from before to replace his dick and curled them up towards your g-spot, hitting it over and over and over again until you were falling apart.

Your thighs tightened around Wonwoo’s arm as you came on his fingers and begged him not to stop.

When you came down from your high it took you a second just to remember your own name, not to mention where the fuck you were.

“I’m so sorry,” Wonwoo blurted out. “It was your first time you should’ve cum first, but then you said my name and I couldn’t-”

“Wonwoo, it’s fine,” you assured him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “It was perfect.”

“No it wasn’t! I wanted it to be special for you.”

“How many people get to lose their virginity on a boat in Greece to their best friend? Sounds pretty special to me.”

“I guess,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you make me cum as many times as you want tonight.”

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he reminded you. “Do you think you can do that?”

You had almost forgotten about Jihoon, Seokmin, and your other friends waiting for you back at the resort. They had all made a last-minute decision not to do the boat trip, electing instead to spend the day by the pool. You and Wonwoo were the only ones too stubborn to cancel the reservation.

It made you wonder what would have happened if the others hadn’t stayed back. If you and Wonwoo weren’t alone on the boat, would you have ever slept together? Would another opportunity have come up, or would you have spent the rest of your life as best friends and nothing more? Were you anything more now?

“Do you think they’ll know?” you asked as pulled your bikini bottoms back on.

“That we slept together?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“If they don’t figure it out when we get back, I’m sure they’ll get the hint by tomorrow morning.”

“And why’s that?” You raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Hotel walls are notoriously thin.”

happy birthday bby <3 lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

send me an ask to be added to my taglist

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist