#my almost cracking my uncle's head open

[clockwayswrites]

One birdritch, two stones.

part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost

“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.

Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”

“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”

“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”

“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”

Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.

“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”

“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”

“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.

Tim tilted his head.

“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.

“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”

“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.

-

The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.

“Hello.”

The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.

Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.

They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.

“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.

They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.

“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.

Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”

“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”

“Explain?”

“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.

Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.

Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.

“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.

“You will come?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”

“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”

“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.

Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.

Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”

Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.

Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.

“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.

“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.

Cass signed Danny’s name sign.

“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.

“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”

Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”

“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”

“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.

Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.

“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.

Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?

-

“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.

“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.

Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.

But that hardly answered any of what was going on.

“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”

Cass nodded and crossed her heart.

Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.

---

AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)

Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, babysitting and date nights

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out. 

masterlist

-

when lando had finally turned the latch of the lock to your shared home, he let out an exhausted sigh. he had been in the sim all day with a long road ahead of him in order to secure a win. he was drained. he had been there the entire day, missing dinner and almost missing bedtime. all he wanted was to hug his young son, kiss his beautiful wife, and take a long hot shower. the universe, however, had other plans. 

opening the door, lando was met with baby finn running circles around you in nothing but his diaper. you locked eyes with your husband and he could feel the exhaustion that you were exhibiting, too. finn wasn’t being bad, he was just being a kid. he had loads of energy that you and lando could usually keep up with in high spirits, but, work had been kicking both of your asses. you were both burning out.

“finn, honey, please it’s time for your bath,” you let out a sigh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair out of your face. lando walks over to assess the situation fully, bringing your tired body into his arms for a hug. you slump against him as he kisses your forehead and locks eyes with his son.

“finn. bath. now,” your husband puts his foot down and your son happily runs towards the bathroom, not grasping the exhaustion or irritation of his parents - thankfully. one thing neither of you ever did was push your problems onto your son, and you never wanted to. 

“thank you, i’ll head in there in a min-” you begin but your husband cuts you off with a kiss. 

“no, we agreed you’d take the morning, i’ll take bedtime. i’ve got this,” lando replies with a swipe to your bum. 

“but you look tired, love-”

“so do you. it’s alright, who knows? maybe finn’s innocent energy will rub off on me, eh?” you chuckle at his question and wordlessly nod before he continues, “go get ready for bed, i’ll call you right in,” one more smack to your bum and lando is heading into the bathroom to start his son’s nightly routine as you follow his polite orders to take care of yourself. 

around a half hour later, lando is calling you into finn’s room for a cuddle and a tuck into bed. as you arrive, you can see finn slowly losing his energy cuddled into your husband’s arms, letting out a yawn. 

“is my sweet boy tired?” you question towards your son, seeing lando nod his head yes as finn lets go of a quiet ‘so much mommy’. 

“i think he had a case of the late night zoomies,” lando lets out a laugh as he gently sets his son into bed, proceeding to get him comfortable under the blankets. you both then lean down, kissing his forehead, wishing him a good night's sleep, and reminding him you’d see him in the morning. after the lights are off and the door cracked a bit open, lando leads you down the hall towards your bedroom with a firm hand on your lower back. 

you collapse onto the bed in a huff once you enter, leading your husband to quietly laugh at you - still cautious of the sleepy boy down the hall. 

“i’m heading to shower, love. care to join?” lando offers with eyes wide and smile even larger. you grant him a feverish nod and begin to follow behind him eagerly as he giggles. 

once you were both stripped and into the steamy shower, lando’s body slumped against yours, his back being attacked by the hot water and his head resting on your shoulder. you run your hand gently through his wet curls as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“wanna talk about it?” you whisper into his hair. lando shakes his head and mumbles into your shoulder, “could you repeat that, love?” you giggle, shaking your shoulder a bit to move lando’s face out of your neck and into your view. his hands grip your waist as yours are guided to rest on either side of his face.

“i just want to relax, we haven’t had a day just us to relax, i miss my wife,”

“i miss you too but that’s the life of parents, lan. maybe if you had pulled out three year-”

“alright, alright,” he exclaims, “you don’t need to harp on my pullout game for me to get the picture” he laughs while reaching behind you to grab some body wash. 

“i do agree we need a small break, though,” you sigh, “work has been draining me, i don’t want it to affect finn,”

“ya know who’s in town next week, love?” lando’s eyes sparkle as he asks, prompting you to laugh and let out a shake of your head, urging him to continue, “carlos,”

-

“okay, bud. uncle los will be here very soon, do you remember what we talked about?” lando is on one knee, bent at your son’s level and looking oh so fine. his black button up with most of the top buttons loose, the dark pants to go with it and the chains dangling from his neck already had you worked up, but the adorable nature of his fatherhood? now that’s hot. 

“yes, daddy,” your son replies, you can tell he’s attempting to hold in his excitement as much as he can as he is almost vibrating due to his little bursts of energy. 

“can you tell me again, bubs?” lando holds onto his son’s hands, searching his eyes at an attempt to really have finn understand the importance. 

“um, say pwease and tank you!”

“very good, what else?”

“be nice,”

“good, bubs, anything else?”

“do what uncle los say?” finn adds his last answer with an unsure smile as he eyes his dad with a tilted head. lando chuckles at his son’s cuteness and kisses his head, nodding in confirmation for your son to listen to his babysitter for the night. 

“and help him out, baby. if he needs anything, okay?” you add on, making your entrance in the room known. lando looks over to you and it seems as if his heart stopped, but it hadn’t. if anything it was beating so fast it could've flown out of his chest. standing up from his position on the ground, he makes his way over to you, mouth agape, eyes raking your figure, and head slowly shaking left to right. 

“you look…” your husband drinks in your appearance again, eyes scanning you from head to toe, “absolutely breathtaking,” he finishes off, his right hand coming over to hold his heart. 

“thank you, my love,” you giggle a bit, stepping to him in order to plant a kiss to his cheek, “you clean up pretty nice, too,” you shoot him a wink, walking past him and towards your son. 

“thanks for walking away, dear. this view is much better,” lando lets out a chuckle, eyes not daring to drift from your ass, until your head swivels - and he catches your smile.

“anytime, baby,” you laugh at his antics, leading him on as you bend over to grab your son, slower than usual. you hear a deep groan come from lando but before anymore comments were made, the doorbell rang throughout the home. finn drops from your arms, beginning his race to the door. 

“finn! wait until i open the door!” lando shouts, jogging over to where your toddler was attempting to reach the handle. 

“i big like you dada! i do it!” finn jumps again, trying with all his little might to reach the handle. lando comes behind him, scooping him up from behind and holding him near the handle and lock. 

“alright, go ahead big boy,” lando urges his son to open the door, and when he does, his excited shrieks are all that fill the house. 

“UNCLE LOS!” finn has wiggled out of his fathers’ grasp and already launched himself into carlos’ arms. 

“hola, pequeño,” the ferrari driver lets out with a chuckle. 

“i so excited you here!” finn is squirming up and down in carlos’ arms as the adults all just laugh at the adorable kid. lando pulls him out of carlos’ arms for one more brief chat about his behavior as you hand carlos the important babysitting list. 

“basically, it's all the numbers you don’t already have, like fewtrell and i think my mom, and then his schedule is here,” you continue briefing carlos as lando begins to stand and make his way back to you, “you don’t have to be too strict about this, just have fun,” you assure carlos at the end of the run through. 

“i’ve got it, you guys have fun. finn and i sure will,” carlos begins to usher you two out the door, a hyper-active three year old seemingly glued to his leg.

“call if you need anything, and i mean anything,” lando emphasizes to his friend.

“lando. it will be fine, you muppet. go enjoy your night with your wife, i’m going to catch up with mi amigo, finn, here,” at this point he is pushing you and your husband out the door and you both laugh at the door shutting in your faces. lando extends his arm for you to hold with a ‘m’lady’, and you both make your way to the restaurant. 

-

at the restaurant, the maître d' guides you to your table and lando proceeds to pull out the chair for you to take your seat. both now seated, he begin to ask what drinks to begin with, lando responding with his and you responding with ‘just a water, please’. walking away to fulfill your orders, lando spares you an odd glance.

“it’s our night off, love. you didn’t want to get a drink?” 

“no, just a water will do it for me,” you respond quick, your husband still eyeing you with oddity, “im glad we’re doing this,” you continue, reaching across the table to hold his hand in yours. 

“me too, a night just to ourselves was very needed,” he lets out with a smile. 

“i just hope our boy isn’t causing too much chaos at home,” you sigh, the waiter coming over to take your orders and drop off your drinks. lando just mumbles a ‘they’ll be fine’ almost to assure himself before placing his order. 

-

“vroom! vroom!” finn squeaks out on the floor, rolling his red ferrari cars around the living room. carlos joins in with a laugh, proceeding to hold his own decorated sainz55 car - finn’s most prized possession - and run it around their make-shift track. he quickly pulls out his phone to capture the moment and ease the parents minds.

“finn, look here! it’s for mommy and daddy, smile!” carlos instructs the little boy. finn looks up, letting out a huge smile and giggle, before crawling into the ferrari drivers lap. one more picture - a selfie this time - of finn clinging onto carlos’ neck, and carlos hits a quick send to his friends. 

-

“here, honey,” lando pulls his phone out and sends it your way in order for you to also see the adorable array of photos your babysitter had sent. 

“well aren’t they having fun?” you place a hand over your heart as you speak, too in awe of the little chubby cheeked smile staring back at you. 

“this was a grand idea,” your husband reiterates, putting his phone away into his pocket after typing a response back. you both share a look and a smile, before continuing your previous conversation and finishing your food. 

-

making it home a little past finn’s bedtime, you both didn’t know what you would walk into. bedtime was finn’s only struggle, therefore him being awake when you arrived home wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for what both you and your husband expect. 

except, when you walk in, your house is clean, quiet, and calm. carlos stands from the couch in order to greet the both of you, while you’re both scrambling to pick your jaws off the floor. 

“i’m assuming it went well?” you ask with a laugh while carlos brings you into a light hug.

“si, finn was a gentlemen. he passed out on the couch by seven and i just carried him into his room after that,” you and lando share a look of disbelief before carlos continues, “we played with some cars, ate some dinner, watched a movie, and he went down really easily,”

“can you move in?” lando pops the question into the conversation as carlos laughs off the request, “i’m serious, sainz,” your husband pushes again.

“did you two enjoy your night?” the ferrari driver ignores his friends jokes, directing his attention to you.

“we did, thank you so much for this, carlos,” you respond with a smile, “we really appreciate it,”

carlos gives you another hug goodbye and you begin to make your way towards finn’s room to check on him as lando walks carlos out, continuing his pestering of ‘how did you do it, mate?’ and ‘you don’t understand he hates bedtime’. 

you stand in the doorway of your son’s room for some time, admiring the sleepy boy all cozy under his racecar blankets. feeling a hand on your waist, you turn and catch your husband in a kiss. 

“let’s go to bed, love,” he offers once you break apart. you give him a silent nod, and you both make your way into your bedroom - lando stealing one last glance at your son. 

walking into your bedroom, you discard your heels and begin to unzip your dress.

“ah, ah,” lando stops your movements, replacing your hands on the zipper with his own, “allow me,” you giggle a bit as he continues to unzip your dress, letting it pool onto the floor. he pulls your back into him and begins to pepper your skin with sweet and sensual kisses as you blush in his hold, “we still need to make baby number two,” he mumbles into your skin while continuing his kisses. your body stiffens, lando feeling and understanding the tension releases your body and turns you to face him.

“what is it, y/n? do you not want another baby anymore?” he asks quietly, as if he’s scared of your answer.

“no, no. it’s not that,” you reply, head hanging down to stare at your feet.

“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”

[entitled-fangirl]

Peculiar (P2)

Cregan Stark x seer!reader

Summary: Prince Jacaerys visits Winterfell in hopes of gaining the loyalty of the Starks for the war.

Warnings: SPOILERS KINDA

A/n: Based on an ask!!!

Peculiar P1, P 0.5

Masterlist

................................................

A persistent knock at the door of their chambers brought them out of their peaceful time together.

Cregan laid a hand on her knee next to him and looked over his shoulder to the door, "Yes?"

"The Prince Jacaerys Velaryon has arrived by dragon back, my lord," the voice spoke through the wood.

Cregan's shoulders tensed. "Has he been welcomed in?"

"We await your response, Lord Stark."

"Oh, gods," he mutters under his breath. He stood and looked to his wife as he pulled his cloak over him. "Will you be joining me?"

He noticed her hesitation, "I will not force you. It was merely a question."

She shook her head and picked at her fingers. "He most likely would not wish to see me. I'll remain here."

Cregan almost let it go, but something stopped him. "If he does not wish to see the Lady of House Stark, then he may leave. But we will not know until we find out, yes?"

She balled up her hands and began to stand, "only if you keep me near."

He grinned and pulled her to him, "There's no other place I'd want you. Now," he turned to the door. "WELCOME THE PRINCE TO WINTERFELL!"

…

Cregan soon sat at his large chair that was occasionally used for petitions. Next to him sat his wife. She stared at the ground as her nerves got the best of her. "I… I had a vision last night…"

He frowned in concern. "You did? Why did you not tell me? You should have woken me."

She shook her head and looked away.

"Tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me what it was."

"Um… well, it doesn't make much sense."

He shrugged. "I do not care. Tell me."

"Revenge will rule and sons will be lost. The heir…" her hands began to shake. "The..."

Cregan reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Take your time."

"…The dark heir will fall," she finished as she looked up at him in horror.

His brows came together. He wouldn't deny that her words sent a shiver down her spine. Usually, her visions didn't worry him too much, but this one seemed different. "What do you believe it means?"

"I fear for Jace," was all she said.

As if on cue, the doors opened, and in the doorway stood Prince Jacaerys. A stern expression was strung across his face, softening slightly at the sight of Y/n.

The last time he had seen her was when she had the Hightower name. 

He wondered if she still held loyalty to it.

Already at a disadvantage, Jace's worries spiked. The Starks were known for their honor, but that wouldn't stop the great Lord Cregan Stark from ending the war before it even began.

Jace was a great fighter, but Cregan was one of the best. "Lord Stark."

Cregan made a motion with his hand, "Come, my prince. What an honor to have you within our castle walls, even if a surprise."

Jace forced a weary smile and walked in. "I do hope you'll pardon me. A dragon is much swifter than a raven and this is urgent."

Cregan pretended to not notice the way the prince's eyes darted between the two.

"Long ago, your father swore an oath to my mother, the heir to the Iron Throne."

Cregan frowned, "I know that, my prince. Why have you come to remind me?"

Jace's voice almost cracked. "The throne has been usurped."

A silence fell over the large hall as the two Starks registered his words.

"My uncle, Aegon Targaryen has been crowned king. It was not long after the death of my grandsire."

The dark heir will fall.

Revenge will rule.

"My love, perhaps these are not matters I wish to plague your mind with." Cregan stood and offered his hand to her. "Why don't you return to our chambers and finish your reading?"

She hesitated, "But the vi-"

"-You're very near to end of the book, aren't you?"

She nodded and gave in. "Quite close." She took his hand and stood. "And you'll fetch me later?"

"Of course." He kissed the top of her head and watched her move towards the large doors. 

She paused for just a moment as she passed Jace. Their eyes met and his worry began to turn to fear. 

There was something there. She was thinking about something, he knew.

But she said nothing and walked out.

Jace wrung his hands together worriedly, "I understand that the sister of Queen Alicent has mostly likely asked you to back her nephew's claim-"

A hearty laugh erupted from Cregan. His shoulders moved with each laugh. He held a hand over his mouth and forced himself to calm down. "Forgive me. Let us walk, my prince. There's much to discuss." 

As the two moved down the corridor, Cregan leaned to him, "My wife has always favored Princess Rhaenyra… excuse me, Queen Rhaenyra. As have I."

A broad smile came over Jace's face.

…

He frowned as he looked down at their intertwined hands.

The skin around her fingers was picked to pieces. Dried blood laid around the cuticles. "I wish we could find a way to ease your worries enough to stop you from doing this to yourself."

She pulled her hand away. "I…" a soft sigh, "I'll try."

He wanted to argue, for she'd tried that before and here she was with bloody nails and a guilty conscience.

"My love, I still plan to leave in two days' time for the Wall. I am taking the prince with me. But, I hesitate. Will you be alright? I understand how the last vision was harsh."

"I've done it for a few winters now. I should be fine."

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist. His thumb rubbed at her hip. "Truly?" He asked with a raised brow.

She nodded, "You fret too much."

He couldn't help the breathy laugh. "I can't help it. I can't sleep at night without knowing you're cared for." He reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Jace hates me."

Cregan's shoulders press back, "He does not. I swear to you."

She gave him an unconvinced look.

"I swear," he urged again. "Now, hurry or we'll be late to sup."

…

"So, Lord Stark tells me that you and your brother are close," Jace brought up as he stared down at his bowl of broth.

She hummed as she picked at her nails. "I am."

Cregan sighed and leaned forward. "She writes to her eldest brother Gwayne quite often." He opened his mouth to suggest she stay with Gwayne while he was gone, but it dawned on him that she wouldn't be safe due to the rising war.

He wouldn't leave her with a green, no matter how close they were.

"Ah, well, I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting Ser Gwayne, but I've heard of his skill. Quite the swordsman," Jace smiled.

"Shame for the impending war. It was right time for a tourney." Cregan's frown began to grow into a smile. "You're a warrior on dragon back, my prince, but how do you fair by horse?"

Jace's brows raised. "Oh, I fair just fine. It's a cold northerner that should be frightened of dragon blood."

Cregan leaned further into the table with a smirk, "Pride will be your downfall at this rate, my prince."

Pride.

The word ran in her head like a gong, and she dropped her silverware with a loud clatter.

It was happening again.

Cregan snapped out of his stupor to look at her. He could recognize immediately what was occurring. "Fuck," he whispered to no one in particular.

Her shaky hands grabbed the opposite sleeves of her dress like iron. 

He stood and rounded the table to kneel next to her. "Stop this." When he heard the sound of the fabric tearing, his voice rose slightly, but stayed just as calm. "You're alright." He managed to pry her hands from her sleeves, but the shaking continued.

"Is she alright?" Jace asked in worry.

"A vision." That was all Cregan gave him.

Cregan wanted to curse at himself for not noticing the signs sooner. The sudden anxiety before, the paranoia, it was all making sense.

It always happened before a vision.

He grimaced in pain when her nails were pressed into his palm. "Just breathe. It'll pass."

He tried to remain strong, but the moment tears began to fall from her eyes and a whimper came from her mouth, he threw that all out.

He forcefully pulled her into his chest, the two practically slumping onto the ground as he rocked her on his lap. His strong arms caged her in. He truly didn't care what the prince thought at this point.

Eventually, it subsided, and she finally leaned away from him. He cradled her face, tilting her head up. 

His breath hitched at the tear stains and reddening of her cheeks and nose. But what really tore him apart was the horrified look in her eyes.

And when those eyes turned to Jace.

Cregan could see Jace visibly gulp as his own eyes widened. He grimaced, "Escort the prince back to his chambers."

Jace stood with his hands up, "Lord Stark-"

"-Cregan, please don't," she murmured through a shaky exhale. She gripped his cloak. "Don't let him leave."

He looked her over and moved his hands to her hair. 

"The dark heir will fall… pride w…" her voice shook. "Pride will kill them all." She sniffled at looked to Jace, "You're going to die."

"Lovely, you're scaring him. Please. You and I will speak first. The prince will go to his chambers." He looked up at a servant, who took that as invitation enough to escort Jace out.

Cregan looked at her, and his worry grew by the minute.

…

"I've decided- you're going to accompany us to the Wall."

"Must I?" She asked.

"I can't leave you here to worry. If you're with me, at least I can care for you."

…

Jace and Cregan strapped the last of their belongings to their horses before their journey as they waited for Y/n.

"And these… dreams… do they come true?" Jace asked.

Cregan shrugged. "It's difficult to say. And they're often hard to understand."

"So, it runs in the blood?" He asked curiously. "I mean, through Hightower blood. It must- with your wife and then Helaena. Do you fear it becoming evident in your future children?"

Cregan paused completely to look at the prince. "This is not a defect. It is a part of who my wife is. If having my children resemble my wife is shameful to me, then I would not have wed her. Do I look like a man that has shame, my prince?"

"No," Jace immediately covered. "No, not at all. And I know the love you have for you wife. I only meant-"

"-I understand what you meant. But know that nothing about her is shameful to me."

Cregan had a look in his eye that said his words were not to be questioned.

Y/n emerged, wrapped in a heavy cloak. She immediately went to Cregan's side. He welcomed her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Ready, lovely?"

She smiled, "I do hope so. And you, Prince Jacaerys?"

Jace grinned, "Of course, Lady Stark. And might I say that blue suits you."

She couldn't help but laugh a bit. 

Cregan gathered a broad smile, "Is she the very picture of a Stark?"

She wanted to joke with them. She really did. 

But everytime she looked Jace in the eyes, she saw his death.

And it was nearer than she had hoped.

.......................................................

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@abecerra611

[platinumshawnn]

to strangers | benjicot blackwood x fem!bracken reader

a/n: yes i am fully aware i should be writing him as davos out of respect for the accuracy of the show and character but i'm still mourning what could have been. also leave it to me to write a little prequel tying this to my own fic a little bit by writing what this guy was really up to on his "hunting trip" lol. have some poorly written smut anyways, if anyone sees that I accidentally called the bracken’s estate “hedge stone” instead of “stone hedge” no you didn’t shut up it’s been fixed

synopsis: benjicot likes to rile up the women he likes i guess

Content warnings: MDNI — 18+, adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism, smut (fem p in v sex, unprotected sex, degradation) [not proofread]

Word count: 5.5k words

you had never been one for conflict — especially not that of drunken councilmen who became red in the face, knocking over cups and irate over matters of politics as they shouted. despite your father’s efforts to maintain diplomacy and restraint during meetings, it almost always ended in a screaming match at the table these days — even your uncle could not bear to sit through them, and often doubled up on the amount he drank just to sit through them, barely able to walk as he stumbled out.

you were almost always met with apologies from your father as he found you outside the doors of the hall, given a squeeze of hand, and ushered to bed. you did not care for politics, but there was no escaping the recent events — it affected everyone, reaching beyond stone hedge’s walls, but your father the most. he appeared to have aged significantly over the past days, eyes exhausted and on edge whenever she greeted him.

but this particular night had been…a lot more than usual. your cousin, aeron, had come back, shaking as he’d returned from a survey of the lands with your brother; having got into another squabble over the boundaries with some blackwood boys who had dared to come too close to their land, in aeron’s words. the whole thing dripped of theatrics — “that filthy…cunt, benjicot”

your head popped up from the handkerchief you were working to embroider, your mother on your right as the pair of you sat in one of the several cabinet rooms that your father had designated for your lessons as a child; having since used it as an escape from the noise. even your mother had been alerted by the commotion as the boys clamored into the hallway, looking out through the door that had been cracked open to provide some airflow in the room. there, your cousin stood, his nose bloody and still dripping as your father summoned the maester while ranting to your uncle, attempting to shush the boy-knight who was on the border of shouting. your interest was only peaked by the name, sitting up and turning your body towards the three men, ceasing what you had been doing and placing the handkerchief in your lap to listen.

your father had made eye contact with you as aeron continued, grabbing him by the shoulder and reaching to close the door before you could hear as he dragged your cousin away. your mother had encouraged you to continue, the look she gave reminding you of proprietary and of your place — with a curt nod, you had returned to your task.

that had been at midday, and since then, there had not yet been a break. you could hear the shouts from your room, and you could picture your father amidst it all, trying to bring order and peace — a task he was successful in every so often, silence falling over the room and quieting to hushed whispers that would only last a short time before the yelling continued.

sometime before midnight, the silence had ended finally, stood at the top of the stairs as the councilmen dispersed; other members of your house trickled out. you had stayed up, waiting to approach your father, in hopes to get some sort of information on the outcome. but the exhaustion was clear on his face, being met by a soft, “on the morrow, not tonight, my dear.”

he had pressed a kiss to your head and brushed past you, receding to his chambers for the night, leaving you at the base of the stairs. as you went to retreat to bed yourself, you heard the cursing mutters of aeron who had finally exited the great hall doors behind you, still seething after several hours — you were relieved at least to find that his nose had since stopped bleeding.

“aeron,” you called out, turning to descend down the four stairs you had climbed just as he stopped in the hallway towards his own chambers. his eyes found you. you approached him, hand reaching out to grab his face between your fingers, turning to assess his face for any additional injuries you may not have noticed earlier in the day. however, much to your relief, he was otherwise unharmed, “you really ought to stop antagonizing those men— you’re going to get yourself killed.” you scolded, sighing and dropping your hand.

aeron winced slightly, more from the reprimand than any lingering pain. “I can’t just let them insult our family, you know that.”

you shook her head, a mix of frustration and concern in your eyes. “I know, aeron, but there’s a difference between defending our honor and looking for trouble. what good will it do if you’re dead?”

He avoided your gaze, jaw clenching. “I just can’t stand the way they look at us, like we’re nothing and like they can do whatever it is they please. Like they own the riverlands. someone has to stand up to them if your father won’t.”

“standing up to them doesn’t mean getting into brawls. use your head, aeron. we need you alive, not battered and bruised,” you said, your tone softening.

aeron had sighed and muttered something unintelligible, only able to make out a ‘yeah’ before he withdrew to his own rooms.

you had tried to sleep — you did. but at some point, the heat, humid and sticky, had made it impossible to; instead, turning and tossing in your bed, growing increasingly frustrated before you stormed from the bed with a huff. the conversation between you and aeron had been stuck in your head, the sight of him bloodied haunting you — how did benjicot look then? was he unscathed and unharmed?

you knew he had always been stronger, a fiercer opponent but you couldn’t help the worry that plagued you.

you had quickly changed as best you could in the dark, without falling over in a way that would alert the guards; pulling your dress on and watching underneath the door as you smoothed out the fabric, doing your best to be silent in opening the door. peaking your head out and checking that both ways were clear, you slipped out and closed the door behind you, walking on your toes as you snuck through the house and out a backdoor that led into the fields.

you did your best to stay low and out of sight as you bolted through the fields towards the boundary stones, trying to remember who would be on surveillance — you couldn’t for the life of you remember, despite your best efforts to eavesdrop on your cousin's conversation earlier.

hell, you weren’t even sure you would see him.

sometimes you did, other times you didn’t — weeks would pass sometimes before you saw him again. sometimes it was hours before you saw him, sat, pulling at grass as you waited, knees to your chest.

today felt like one of those days, as you approached the river, out of sight from any prying eyes and sat by the edge, your eyes straining to see through the dark. the moon did little to penetrate the dense patch of trees. as the hours passed, your head had begun to drop against your knees, dozing off. there would be no way of keeping yourself awake all night, after a long day, opting as a last ditch attempt to awaken your senses by dipping your toes into the stream as you kicked off your shoes.

the water was a nice welcome in the heat, a content sigh leaving your mouth as you kicked your feet; splashing the water upwards. the wait seemed to drag on forever, growing impatient and trying to decide on whether to return home or not.

you’d give him another hour at most. If he didn’t come, then you would go home.

your gaze scanned the river, serene and peaceful as the rushing body of water sloshed around your feet; cool and refreshing. you’d have time.

you stood back from the water and fumbled to strip down to your chemise, discarding the dress to the grass by your shoes before easing down and into the water, letting out a hiss. slowly, wadding into its shallow depths, you moved forward until the water touched your thighs, lapping at your body as you cupped some of the water between your hands and tossed it up in front of you.

“you’re far from home, lady bracken.”

your head whipped toward the sound of a voice from the treeline, water sloshing around your legs as you faced the boy who the voice belonged to. the ends of your skirt had been released in the turn into the water, feet tangling in the soft sand of the river’s floor, just catching yourself from falling into its rapid rush by the luck of the Gods; the ends of the fabric now soaked by the flowing water that swirled around you. there he stood, barely peeking out from the cover of the trees as if that would somehow conceal his identity, hugging close to the trunk of one while he watched you from his shaded spot. there was hardly any way of seeing him in the night, the moon’s light not quite reaching him but his voice -- you would know that voice anywhere.

you stepped forward, halfway across the shallow depths of the river that flowed between the two lands of bracken territory and blackwoods, the cold water just reaching mid-thigh as you looked up at him, “as are you.” you quipped, heart rate rapid as your heart thrummed against your ribs.

despite the limited visibility, you could see his mouth quirk up in a half-smile, his amusement clear as his head tipped to the side while his eyes continued to watch you closely like some sort of prey. the limited sense of vision allowed you the ability to hear as he inhaled through his nose, breathing outwardly before he finally stepped forward to the edge of the water, his hand at the hilt of his dagger on his hip as his eyebrows rose, “and do you always take moonlit strolls through my land?”

you stilled, hands resting at your sides as your fingers dipped into the cool water below you, the cold nipping at your fingertips, “only when called for— the night was too beautiful to resist.” you replied, chin lifted to look up towards where he towered over you, “and what’s your excuse?”

he snorted, boots shifting against the dirt with as he moved to widen his stance, “the same perhaps,” he said, eyes glancing up to the sky above the riverlands that was littered with stars, “or maybe I was hoping to find a curious lady wandering too close to my territory.” he said, his voice a low rumble.

there was nothing threatening about his tone, however, his body language said otherwise — his eyes scanning their surroundings before looking back to your face, his body suggesting that he was on edge. as though he expected bracken men to burst through the trees behind you any minute. you took another languid step forward, closer to enemy territory, the thrill of it never failing to excite you.

“are you suggesting I’m trespassing?” you asked, your words steady as you bordered taunting the man who eyed you.

you could see as he squinted, narrowing his eyes at your words, “just…observing that you’re quite far from where you’re supposed to be at this hour, my lady.”

you hummed, eyebrows raised as the water continued to lap at the fabric of the cream coloured chemise that had been worn underneath the dress of typical bracken colours of yellow and brown having been discarded at the edge of the grass. you could see the moment his eyes lowered to scan down the length of the fabric, disappearing into the water and drifting higher up your thighs, bordering translucent against your skin, slow in dragging his eyes along the length of your body, “but i suppose the river doesn’t care for borders, does it?” he suddenly asked, his eyes returning to meet yours.

your mouth curved upwards, a wry smile on your face as his gaze emboldened you, “no it doesn’t, but neither do I, it seems. I don’t believe the assize said anything about the river.”

benjicot tutted condescendingly at her, smug as his hands shifted over his dagger, “careful, you're starting to sound like your cousin, bracken.” he warned, tone sharp, “do you not ever worry about what might be lurking in the shadows? his words came lighter now, the tension gone from his voice.

you let out a dry laugh, beginning to feel the effects of the frosty water that reached your hips the further you wadded, a cool breeze causing your skin to prickle with goosebumps. you shivered, sucking in a deep breath through clenched teeth, “only when they carry a dagger and a half-smile, I suppose.” you said.

his hands twitched, the grasp at his blade loosening as he seemed to contemplate reaching forward to drag you from the water at the sight of your shivering frame. however, he stopped himself and instead lifted his chin, mouth pressing into a tight smile, “then its a good thing I’m in a benevolent mood tonight.”

your head lowered to look down at the water, using your fingers to skim its surface, “I will take my chances.” you confidently said, lifting your gaze after a moment of pause.

he let out a ‘hmph’ sound, watching as you slowly closed the gap between the two lands to stand directly in front of him, the water shallow once again and only meeting mid-thigh. the now soaked gown did nothing to provide any ounce of modesty, sheer and clinging to your lower half as you stared up at him. your eyes followed his movements as he crouched, bringing him eye-to-eye as an elbow planted against one of his knees, “well, I suggest you be careful, my lady. the night is full of dangers.” he said, his voice low and quiet.

“and so is the day, but I’ve never been one to shy away from either.” you said, voice matching his volume before you stepped forward until you stood against the ledge, your other hand planting in the grass just between his boots as you lifted your right hand toward him, “are you going to help me or shall I call for my men?” you taunted, a grin on your face.

he rolled his eyes, smile broadening as he stood upright and bent to grab your hand, using his strength to pull you up and over the ledge, out of the waters with ease. you were brought to your feet, stood face-to-face with him, his face leaning close to yours as he spoke, “you wouldn’t dare.” he muttered, “how do you plan then, to explain your presence so close to blackwood land at this hour? alone, in a nightgown, with the heir?”

your chest brushed his as you leaned in towards him, “I’ll figure something out— you underestimate me.”

he hummed with a nod, his nose bumping yours in the close proximity. though his mouth did not yet make contact with yours, his breath fanned over lips, his eyes scanning your face, “oh, I’m sure you will. but do you think they will believe you?” he asked, the lazy smirk on his face laced with arrogance, “do you think there won’t be whispers? said whispers, questioning your maidenhead?”

“they’d be foolish to make such accusations against the daughter of amos bracken.” you countered, shoulders squaring with pride.

the man in front of you let out a sardonic chortle, releasing the hilt of his dagger and finding your hip, gripping the fabric of your chemise in his fist, stepping back and forcing you with him, “oh please.” he mocked, his hand dropping from your hip to reach down to your thigh and begin to hoist the soaked fabric upwards towards your waist, leaving you bear to the elements, “if only they could see their lord’s daughter, out parading herself like some whore on blackwood land. What do you think they would say then, hm?”

“‘Tis not their business what I do, nor my father’s.” you muttered.

“oh but i think they might say otherwise. you’re a noblewoman,” he jeered, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of your belly as his hand dipped below your naval, “a highborn womb.”

you knew benjicot did not share their views -- in the very few occasions he had opened up during your late night escapades, red in the face with anger, rambling on about the audacity of his councilmen as he dressed. he had ranted about what the very outlook had done to his mother, that women were more than for breeding. but he enjoyed knocking you down a peg sometimes, humbling you back down to earth during these moments. he liked to mock the sanctity of your womanhood, even if for a moment, but then he would go back on himself and praise you once all was said and done — praise the very thing he mocked. However, on this particular night, something about his words lit the flames of pure, feminine rage, staring eye to eye with the man you had visited countless times over the past months.

“I am more than that.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

he let out a melancholic hum, “you think so?”

he spoke to you like you were a child, who lived under the guise of a delusion — like a childish dream that you were expected to grow out of. the tone of his voice, paired by the sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs bred a slew of confusing emotions to spread within your chest; shamed and desperate, humiliated and seething as his fingers found the sensitive bud between folds that were slick with arousal that had you hot with embarrassment, fingers gliding up along your folds as you gritted your teeth, “how dare you—!”

the nature of his words stung when you knew how much he despised when other men looked down on women the way you had grown accustomed to; somehow after he had entrusted you enough to open up to you, he still had the nerve to throw it in your face—

he caught your hand that came up towards his throat, eyebrows raising as if to warn you, a grin on his mouth as his hand between your thighs stilled, “no need to be so hostile, sweet girl.” he said, guiding your hand down to your side as he moved to drive your back towards a tree, that hand coming to hold your chin in the space between his thumb and fingers, “I know you are a brave, resilient woman…” he quietly muttered, face coming close to yours and trapping you between his body and the tree, a knee coming between your thighs.

despite the rage that still burned within you, scorching like a wildfire, the warm contrast of his fingers on cold skin was welcomed; jolting up as his fingers pressed against you, fingers circling the bud and earning a soft sigh of a moan as you reached out to grab him, pulling him closer as though you were trying to crawl underneath his skin and become one. His mouth finally made contact, attaching itself to your throat and placing open-mouthed kisses to the skin, nipping the delicate skin with his teeth as his fingers worked against you.

“my clever, beautiful girl.” he praised, mouth reaching your collarbones.

you belly clenched, another moan elicited by his words as your hands fisted the cloak around his shoulders, his hand moving briefly to tug the fabric of your gown back up and out of his way as it dropped from its place around your hips. benjicot had a way of leaving you breathless and desperate, a flustered mess under his touch, the only man that could draw out the carnal sounds of pleasure; broken sighs and crying out as his middle and ring finger pushed themselves into you.

by the roots of his hair, you brought a hand to the back of his head and tugged him towards your mouth, his lips encapsulating yours in a feverish kiss; all teeth and tongue. you cried out, muffled by his mouth, as his thumb continued the prior pace, rubbing blind shapes into your clit as your mouth dropped open, too distracted by experienced fingers that slipped in and out of you with ease to reciprocate the kiss, “oh—, fuck.”

“yes, just like that,” he encouraged, voice soft. “just relax, my love.”

the weeks of pent up hunger and anticipation for this moment curled within you, settling into your lower belly, thighs attempting to clench around his hand. though you were stopped by the firm, strong thigh that had been planted there to prevent such from happening, his hips pressing into yours.

“ben, please…” you cried out, beginning to become overwhelmed between his mouth that returned to your throat and his hand, his pace increasing.

rather instead, he knelt suddenly, head buried beneath the thin chemise that draped over his head as he leaned into you. his shoulders brushed your thighs as his mouth replaced his thumb’s task, latching to the bundle of nerves and leaving you gasping, gripping his hair as your chest heaved. a low groan vibrated through your core from the man below you, reaching every end and nerve of your body as you struggled to keep up on your feet as your peak washed over you. his arm wrapped up underneath your right thigh, holding you against him and pressing against your hip as if that would somehow ground you as you nearly collapsed against him, your entire body alight as your walls squeezed around his fingers, clenching so tight it could restrict movement.

he was barely any gentler as he reemerged from your skirts, your head slumped back against the tree as he stood to tower over you once more, using the fabric of your gown to hold you up and practically manhandle you up against the tree that scraped your skin with each move. loose strands of hair had freed themselves from the half done up style, hanging in your face as you panted, mouth agape as you looked up at him; lips glistening with the reminisce of you — your cheeks heated with embarrassment, reaching out to touch his cheek.

he was beautiful, especially with you on his lips.

you dropped your hand and pulled him towards you by his hips, using the belt to your advantage to jerk him forward, his own lazy smirk mirrored by your tired smile as your hands fumbled to undo the laces of his pants. he aided in the task, skillful fingers pulling them with ease and shoving his pants down just enough that they sat high on his thighs, freeing his hardened cock from their confinement, your hand instinctively coming down to wrap around the length and stroke him. his lips parted above you, hands coming to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his nose nudged yours.

you could have stayed there forever, in that moment — with the sight before you, a flush in his face as he appeared fucked out already, hair in a disarray from your fingers.

he reached across his chest to undo the clasp of his cloak, dropping it from his shoulders; getting rid of the only shield that hid you from any potential prying eyes — if anyone burst through the bushes then, there would be no hiding the act and it would be without any doubt what was happening.

‘parading herself like a whore on Blackwood land’

benjicot would be correct. if your cousins had dared to wander close to the borderlands again, you would be done for. there would be no protecting any ounce of your dignity and modesty at that point — you would be shamed by your entire family, and even worse, your father…he would be beyond furious and nothing less than gutted.

the thought and feeling of sheer shame it brought had you clinging close to the man in front of you, his body easily capable of concealing yours as one hand went above your shoulder to the tree, too blissed out to put an end to this and go home right then as his mouth pressed to yours in a sweet, affectionate kiss. you moaned against his mouth, his hand replacing yours around his cock to glide it up along your slit; gathering the slick as a means to lubricate the head of his cock, that already leaked pre-cum that mingled with your own arousal, the tip red and angry.

you braced against the tree, trying to regain footing, nearly slipping into him. he steadied you with the arm above your shoulder, wrapped around your ribs and forcing your chest against his as he slid into you, earning a gasp, breaths mingling as your own arm wrapped around his shoulders; clutching to him like your life depended on it — and in some ways, it did.

he held you up against the tree, having to shove the fabric of his tunic and doublet high up on his hips out of the way as he thrusted up into yours. each movement of his hips, shallow due to the position, his pelvis brushed against your clit, providing enough stimulation to leave you struggling for air as you fisted his clothing in your hands.

“fuck…” he rasped, lips brushing your own as they parted, each breath from his mouth sucked into your lungs as you relied on him for the strength to stay upright, slumping into him.

you were a jumbled, incoherent series of sounds as any paranoid thought of fearing your cousin's appearance went out the window, all consumed by him. your leg lifted by his hand guiding it by the back of your knee, thigh hooking around his hip and pulling him further, deeper into you and releasing a sob. you felt so full, it physically ached, walls clenching down around him and eliciting a hiss of air from him.

the sound of a branch cracking somewhere in the distance of the bushes caused you to jolt against him, eyes peering over his shoulder, wide and panicked as the thought crossed your mind again just how open you were to being exposed. you had done this time and time again, but never with his own men just several feet from the bush you were hidden among, and never during a war that had everyone on edge. the looming war had your father in particular paranoid, leading to an increase in fleets that surveyed the boundaries of bracken’s land and the thought instilled again, that fear that you could be caught.

as if he sensed your worry, his mouth caught yours in another kiss, forehead pressing to yours, “my love…” he muttered, bringing your attention back to him.

and he was successful, your gaze doing one last scan and straining into the dark before you were faced with his tired, lust-filled face, his cheeks flushed and striking even in the dark. the sweet name swelled your chest with adoration, your breath quick as you let out a moan, spiraling into bliss against him as his hand came between you to once again rub against your clit.

“ben, i can’t— please—“ the sound was weak and feeble, choked out and gasping for air as your body burned.

it was met by deaf ears as he gently shushed you, his mouth grazing yours, cock relentlessly rutting up into you with desperation — seeking for release as your walls fluttered around him. the groan he released was animalistic, deep from within his chest and carnal as you clutched onto him, struggling to keep yourself up against him and pulling him into you; seeking some kind of anchor to keep you grounded as his hand on your clit worked in unfaltering shapes that had you weak.

a final sob of pleasure left you as you clamped down around him, body tense and slumping against his as you released yourself around him. the final plea of his name and your walls were followed by a few sharp, final thrusts as he released his seed into you; fucking it deeper into you with a deep sigh of your name, a hand coming to your throat as he glanced down, his forehead resting against your chin.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

you stepped up onto the riverbank of your family’s side; thighs still aching while benjicot’s hand supported you from behind before he too crawled up behind you, not seeming to care that he was now soaked from his thighs down. He stood back, allowing you a silent moment to wring out your dress of any water as best you could, hands twisting the fabric and letting out a grunt of exertion before letting it drop back down to your feet. You bent to collect your dress, benjicot finally stepped forward to help in your task of redressing, hands smoothing the fabric over your hips and straightening your shoulders with a gaze down, not daring to make eye contact.

you both knew this could have been the last time you saw each other, the dawning realization casting an awkward, tense silence over the two of you as you eyed the fabric of his doublet; making a mental note of its ridges, the pattern of the woven article of clothing. he tensed as you lifted a hand to touch the fabric with your fingers, too intimate a gesture as fingers ran across his chest and up towards his shoulder before stilling there, your palm coming to place over his heart.

“when are you to marry the…” he began to ask, his face screwing up in disgust at the idea as he spat out the name, “Lefford boy.”

you gaze only briefly lifted towards his face when he spoke, a small snort leaving you at his reaction and smiling softly at his antics. The smile dropped after a moment, though, inhaling and sighting out a breath as you straightened out his own clothing with gentle tugs, brushing over the fabrics, “two nights from today.” you quietly replied.

he made a sound of disapproval, his gaze on your face as you finally looked him in the eye again, his hand rising to capture your wrist in his hold. You had heard the whispers as well throughout the halls of stone hedge, trying to picture it as you looked at him, “I hear rumors you’re to be married, too.” you pointed out, his face twitching.

he released your wrist, stepping back and looking towards his feet as he fixed his sleeves, “My father plans to betroth me against my will.” He admitted, his words a grumble as he shook out his arms and looked up at you again.

you nodded, “who? has he said anything of his intentions?”

“some girl.” he admitted, shaking his head with a shrug of his shoulders, cheeks expanding with a sigh, “the lord paramount’s granddaughter, I suppose.”

you smiled, tilting your head as you looked at him, “serra tully, right? that’s her name, yes?”

“unfortunately.” he grumbled in complaint.

“she’s quite beautiful, I hear.”

he shrugged again, letting out another grunt.

“well, you should probably be on your way,” you said, hands folding behind you as he looked across the river, the sun already beginning to come up. “your men will be looking for you soon.”

benjicot nodded, stepping forward and reluctantly reaching out to your waist, fingers gently pressing into your sides as he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to your mouth, “I will see you soon.” He said as he withdrew from your mouth, face still hovering close.

you raised a hand and pressed it to his cheek, smiling as you looked up at him, “yes. maybe.”

his eyes rolled as you lifted a hand as if to gesture ‘just as I suspected’, looking over you as a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere beyond the trees from his camp, hands dropping from your sides and straightening the belt at his hips; you watched as his fingers went to the dagger at his right hip, removing it from its sheath, much to your confusion. He withdrew it and used his free hand to pull one of yours forward, pressing the blade into your palm and looking at you, “a wedding gift.” He quietly said.

you looked down at the blade, frowning and blinking rapidly a couple of times before looking up at him, mouth opened in a stutter, “benjicot, I- I can’t accept this. you might need-”

“I have plenty back home,” he assured, wrapping your fingers around the handle of it and licking his lips that were then pressed into a line that resembled an amused smile, “have it…in case that Lefford boy ever pisses you off.”

you let out a laugh, a smile coming to his face as your hand dropped from his, the dagger clutched by your side, “very charming of you.”

He chuckled and pressed another quick kiss to your forehead before he brushed past you, hurrying into the river with a splash and sloshing back in the direction he had come from. you watched as he climbed out of the water, entering back out onto blackwood territory and giving one last glance as he retreated back into the trees.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

7 | What's it gonna take

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, fluff, teasing, dry humping, sexual tension, etc.

❧ Word Count | 5.6k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——The next morning you wake up with your cheek pressed against something warm, an oversized t-shirt clothing you and one of your legs resting atop something. You quickly find out that the something in question happens to be none other than the man you had sex with the night prior, your best friend, Choso Kamo.

Laying on his naked chest, before your eyes even peel open, you relish in the gentle smell of his cologne. Surely you don’t remember either of you showering last night and yet here he was smelling as though nothing had even occurred. But hey, you’re pretty sure you passed out at some point so you wouldn’t be surprised if he cleaned himself up while you were sleeping.

The sound of a phone dinging oddly close by makes you finally crack your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is a phone in Choso���s hand not too far away from you. Since you were lying slightly on top of him, you could feel the deep breath he took due to the most recent notification. 

In the background was the faint sound of The Weeknd— you’ve got no idea what song was playing but it was there somewhere, sounding a bit far away. That aside, instead of focusing everywhere all at once, you center your gaze on Choso’s phone and watch his thumb linger over that recent notification.

You had to blink a few times to read it but the most you got from the text there was a ‘Hey, can u call me when u wake up? I wanna talk about last night…’ from someone named… Hori? You’ve got no idea who that is but the message is swiped away and blatantly ignored before you get to think about it any further.

Choso then swipes through the rest of his messages, answering some recent texts from his family members up until one message catches your eye yet again. It was something from his Uncle and the only reason it caught your eye is because your name was mentioned. Allas, before you could read anything past the words ‘Are you still,’ Choso was swiping out of the text thread entirely and you were soon spotting your contact.

Choso, being the total sweetheart he is, has your name happily saved as ‘Idiot #1’. You wouldn’t expect anything more or less from him but reading that made you scoff, which alerts him that you’re awake.

Followed by his realization is his heavily husked tone hitting your ears, “Well, good morning to you too.”

You almost smile at his voice alone. Something about it had your heart twinging in an unusual way and your lips twitching before you shifted your head up to look at him, “Mornin’ Cho.”

Choso’s gaze softens as it meets yours and you catch the way his whole expression and vibe seem to come at peace all at once. “How’d you sleep?” Holy shit the rasp in his voice was making your legs twitch against him ever so slightly, your eyes fleeting elsewhere.

“Fine, I think,” You hum, glancing around his bedroom until you spot the TV, “You?” As you ask that, you’ve located the source of lowly volumed music.

“Better than I have in a while,” Choso sighs as his eyes remain on your face, “How do you feel?”

You turn to him again and tilt your head, “I feel okay but uh, better than you have in a while?” You repeat with a lift of your brow, “Good pussy gave you some good rest, huh?”

He rolls his eyes at that question immediately, “Oh but I’m the ‘cocky bastard’.”

A smile graces your face and you shrug, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah,” Choso replies simply, “I guess you could say that.”

You chuckle at that and let out a little hum, to which he grins at you. Was there something in the air? Because Choso was staring at you like you were the only thing he’s ever cared to lay his eyes upon and you couldn’t get yourself to break away from his gaze for a long moment.

“Cho,” You hush out, watching as his brows lift, “Why’s my name saved as Idiot number one in your phone??”

Annnnd moment ruined.

Choso chuckles, “Cause’ you’re idiot number one, duh.”

“Why the number? Are there more idiots you know?” You muse, smiling slightly at the man.

“Two things; one, if there were, would you be jealous? And two, did you just willingly call yourself an idiot?” Your brown-haired best friend huffs out in jest, intrigued by your questions.

You shrug, “One; no. And two; yes.”

Ah, he’s full-on smiling at you now. Something was definitely in the air because Choso hasn’t felt this banter with you in forever and his heartfelt weird experiencing it again. 

Then he’s shaking his head at you, “You’re a dumbass.”

“I have my moments, I suppose,” You hum before slowly moving to sit up. The second you try moving, there’s a throb coming from just about everywhere— more specifically your thighs and back, which causes you to wince and pause in your movements, “Shit.”

Choso’s sitting up along with you and he tips his head to the side, “I asked you how you felt ‘nd you said you were okay.”

You scoff, “I was before I-“

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing something for you. Then he’s handing said unknown items to you and earning a confused glance from your face.

“Ibuprofen for your pain,” Choso explains, handing you one of two pills, “And uh, morning after for your uh-,” He awkwardly clears his throat as he processes a few things in his head, “So you don’t get, y’know… Since I uh-“

“Fucked me full of your cum last night?” You say bluntly, making his entire face heat up.

“Y-Yeah,” Choso stutters as a very prominent shade of red spreads across his face, “Since I did that.”

You smile at how shy he’s being before taking those pills from his hand, raising a brow at the man as you gesture to them, “So, am I supposed to throat these pills raw?”

“I’m sure you could if you wanted to,” He comments casually while reaching over for a water bottle, “But if you need me to stretch your throat out beforehand just say the word and I’ll-“

“Christ, Choso,” You gasp as you slap your free hand over his mouth. He smiles against you and hands you the water bottle he was reaching for. “How do you get shy from the thought of last night but then all bold two seconds later??” You huff before taking your hand off his mouth and grabbing the water bottle.

Choso shrugs, “Cause’ I almost got you pregnant last night,” He says reluctantly, the tips of his ears burning red, “But I can’t get you pregnant if I fuck your throat.”

You roll your eyes at him before taking the given medicine swiftly. Choso’s smile widens a bit and he quietly watches you gulp down the water and two pills, his eyes unknowingly focusing in on your throat for longer than intended. The way you effortlessly swallow-, which should be expected, you’re only drinking water but…

That small little ahh you let out as the bottle is retracted from your lips, the way you managed to cause a slip of water to escape your mouth, followed by an innocent glance in his direction, and then your eyes are on his and his eyes are on your lips and he just-

“You want to?” You ask casually, earning even more of his undivided attention.

“Want to, what?” Choso murmurs with a soft furrow of his brows.

You chuckle and lean closer to him. Then, you lean down a bit so he can look into your eyes and not at your lips, “Fuck my throat.”

Choso swallows thickly as he gazes deep into your eyes, “Right now?”

You scoff, “No, idiot. I’m sore enough everywhere else-“

“What’s one more place?” He cuts off, suddenly all too interested in the mere idea of face fucking you.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, “Choso.” You murmur sternly.

“I’ll be gentle,” He whispers back, slowly reaching for your waist and carefully pulling you closer to him.

And then you’re on top of him all over again, your thighs spread and straddling him comfortably.

You shake your head, “Cho-“

“I promise,” He urges as he leans back and pulls your upper half with him until he’s resting against his headboard and your face is less than an inch away from his, “I’ll ease my cock in, take it nice ‘nd slow with you if that’s what you want, princess.”

Your body heats up at both his words and how gentle he’s already being, “Choso… We like, just woke up.”

He flashes that stupidly sexy but lazy smile at you, “Not a big fan of morning sex?”

“I actually am but,” You pause for a minute. Your eyes just linger on Choso’s and you feel his hands trail down to your hips, then your thighs, and then he’s squeezing slightly.

Choso leans in, “But…?”

“I’m sore,” You whisper.

“You’re sore,” He echoes as if to say it more to himself than to you. With that, he lets off a little nod before slouching back, “Right. Well, can I at least get a kiss?”

“S’that all you want?” You hum while leaning forward and slipping your arms around his neck.

Choso nods again and his eyes greedily drop down to your lips, “Uhuh.”

His hands start sliding up again, as if he just can’t get enough of touching and feeling you. You grin before your lips are slotting into his, his grasp on you tightening all of a sudden. He feels you whine into the kiss and bites back a smile as his hands continue to slip upward.

Choso’s fingertips dance just barely under the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing (his shirt) and you soon feel him hold onto the bare skin of your hips. His hands weren’t exactly rough but they weren’t the softest either. Choso’s skin was an odd mix of both, some areas were more calloused than the others and you could always tell he used his hands quite a bit.

He slides up again with his touch, holding onto your waist before tugging you even closer and kissing you passionately. You hum against him before he starts easing his tongue into your mouth.

And then the kiss is getting hotter and he’s gasping against your lips when you unintentionally rock your hips against him. 

Choso pries away and drops down to your neck, planting kiss after kiss and relishing in every sigh you let out. “Thought you were sore?” He hums into your skin.

You smile, “I am,” Then you’re tilting your head to give him better access and his hands are dropping back down to your thighs.

“Where?” Choso asks softly while caressing the top of your thighs and still kissing tenderly at your neck.

“The back of my legs, kinda,” You explain quietly with his hands moving the moment you speak, “And my back-, b-but mainly under my thighs.”

“Mh,” Choso hums and then he’s sliding his fingers underneath your thighs and pressing into your skin, earning a noticeable wince from you. “Here?” He whispers.

You nod and he kisses under your jaw, his hands focusing on those sore areas of yours as he massages them carefully. 

This goes on for a while up until your head ends up resting on his shoulder and he massages your legs while you remain seated on top of him. Gasping every time he presses into your skin just right and whining while he soothes your tired muscles, you find your eyes squeezed shut as he touches you.

“Right there, Cho,” You whine, to which he rotates his fingertips against the most recent area he was in.

Choso turns and presses his lips into your neck, “You make this sound so sexual, y’know,” He teases.

You roll your eyes, “It just feels good, a-and I’m not doin’ it on purpose.”

“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckles.

Then, the two of you simmer back into that comfortable silence of yours, his hands working your tense skin with care as you remain as still as possible.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Roughly ten minutes go by until you seem to be a lot more relaxed under his touch. The same artist that’s been playing lowly from the TV can still be heard, Double Fantasy by The Weeknd being the song filling the still air of the room. 

At some point, Choso decides he can start teasing you again and he moves his lips to your ear, “Where else are you sore, pretty girl?” He whispers way too affectionately.

You quickly pull your head away from him and shoot him a pointed look, “I told you my back…”

He meets that little glare of yours with a smirk, “I really did a number on you, huh?” Choso teases while sliding his hands up to your back and soon pressing his fingers against your spine.

You sigh and your lashes flutter in relief, “Uhuh.”

Your best friend continues to soothe you, skillfully running his hands all up and down your back to relieve the tension. And it felt nice to be cared for like this by him. Usually, if you were sick or ever feeling bad— he’d shrug you off and tell you to thug it out (affectionately).

But now? Choso was the sweetest you’ve ever experienced from him. You wondered how long this would last-

“Choso,” You breathe out, having felt his hand wander off.

“Hm?” He hums innocently.

You almost laugh at the man, “That’s my ass.”

He bites back a laugh of his own, “Yeah, I know. You’re not sore here?” Choso questions while he palms and squeezes at the fat of your ass.

“No, Choso,” You snicker, “You just wanted an excuse to touch my ass.”

“Noooo,” He drags out playfully as his smile begins to mirror yours. You raise a brow at him and he quickly folds, “Okay, maybe. But I dunno, I couldn’t help myself. You’re sittin’ on top of me and lookin’ at me like…”

Your head weighs to the side as you search his eyes for an explanation, “Like what?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know how to describe it but it makes me crave you.”

“C-Crave me?” Your lashes bat in surprise and he nods.

Choso’s naturally sleepy features remain neutral as he peers into your eyes, “Mhm.”

You try to laugh his little statement off, “One night with me and now you’re obsessed?”

“Addicted, maybe.” Choso whispers so faintly you almost miss it.

Almost, “Seriously?” You utter in response.

He swallows, sitting there just staring at you while his hand continues mindlessly squeezing your ass. He has such a mellow expression with you right now. You’ve felt comfort with Choso before but never to this degree. Everything about the way he’s looking at you right now is making your heart feel odd.

“No.” He eventually says in a firm tone.

You scrunch your brows, “Cho-“

“I was joking, shut up.” He cuts off— feeling distant with you all over again.

“No you weren’t,” You refute, scoffing at the man, “You really are addicted to me now, aren’t y-“

He’s cutting you off with another kiss, to which you freeze completely. Your brain simply halts at the feel of his lips on yours again. So soft and gentle with you, like he’s been waiting years to do this and wants to sink into this feeling forever. Hell, maybe he has been waiting for years.

It’s nowhere near the first time he’s ever kissed you but, something about your lips on his makes his mind lose all sensible thoughts for a minute. Which is why both of his hands are dropping to your ass and he’s pulling you impossibly closer to him.

He pushes against you a bit harder and you gasp at how needy his hands are on you. Your lips part against him and he gifts your ass with a smack, earning a faint moan from you.

“Fuck,” Choso sears in between your lips, gripping and grabbing at all of you.

Your chest is pressed tightly against his and because of his tight grip on you, you can’t help the gentle rock of your hips against him.

Seconds, it takes mere seconds for you to feel his cock poking up at your unclothed cunt.

Then Choso’s snatching his lips off of yours and dropping to your neck again, “Don’t stop,” He groans, “Please.”

You moan at the way he shifts one hand to your hips and constantly tugs you against him, grunting hotly into your neck as he feels your bare cunt rub against his cock— one flimsy layer left between the two of you.

“C-Cho, we shouldn’t-,” You’re cut off by him gently lifting his hips against you, a soft gasp escaping you instead.

“Why?” He breathes, moving to grab your ass as you grind against him a bit harder, “We have the whole day to ourselves,” Choso whispers.

You toss your head back and he starts sucking on your neck, careful not to leave a mark. “B-Because… we just, hah, we shouldn’t.”

He scoffs, “Scared of noise complaints?”

“No?”

“Should be,” Choso hums as he bites back a throaty groan from the way he feels you right against his tip. “Shit, did you-, hah, notice what I did to the wall yet?”

Your brows twist up before you turn and catch sight of a rather large hole in the wall, one caused by Choso’s previous roughness with you and the bed knocking into it a little too hard.

“Choso!” You gasp, “How the hell did you-“

“I knew I heard somethin’ last night too,” He chuckles, “I was just too wrapped up in you to care.”

“You-“

“I’m sorry,” Choso breathes out almost finally before reenacting his acts from last night and swiftly flipping the two of you over, pinning you down against his bed and rolling his cock down hard against you.

You gasp, “Oh fuck-, why’re you s-so…”

He tilts his head, the veins decorating his arms flexing, “So what?” He breathes.

“Fuckin’ hard,” You nearly laugh, smiling a bit at the man, “We just woke up not too long ago. H-How do you get turned on so easily?”

Choso chuckles as if to taunt you, “You do know I can feel you right?”

“Huh?”

“I’m not the only one turned on,” He scoffs, leaning down to speak while his lips graze yours, “I can feel how wet you are, idiot.”

You gulp, “I…”

Choso nibbles on your lower lip and tugs for a moment before whispering, “Let’s jus’ make it quick, yeah?”

“Choso.” You utter sternly in protest.

“Promise,” He pants, “I promise it’ll be quick-, maybe I’ll jus’ put the tip in, c’mon.” His hips mash down against yours, causing the outline of his erect cock to push further against you.

You moan, “Mgh, but-“

“I need you,” Choso groans, sounding almost pained, “Jus’ a little bit more of you, please,” He whines.

“Fuck, o-okay, fine-“

And then he’s kissing you again, rutting his clothed cock against you over and over while he messily reaches his hands down to his sweats. Snatching at his drawstring, eager to remove the tiring layer of clothing, Choso’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

You’re such an idiot— giving into your best friend for yet a second time in a row. Were you addicted? Isn’t this wrong? Choso’s your best friend. Your best friend.

He’s just about to pull his sweatpants down before he’s rudely interrupted by the ringing of the apartment doorbell.

You both freeze, panting heavily as if you’ve been caught doing something you had no business doing. Gulping, Choso lets out a long and frustrated groan before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Can we just ignore them?” He asks you.

You giggle, “No, it’s probably one of our neighbors.”

“Oh,” Choso practically smiles at that, “You’re right. They’re probably here to give us an earful about our noise last night. Or well, your noise-“

“Shut up and go answer the door,” You scoff, “I’ll probably be here when you get back.”

“Probably?” Choso questions as he sits up and slides out of his bed.

You shrug, “I might run back to my room while you’re distracted so uh, be quick.”

A wink is sent to the man and he fights the urge to just stare at you in awe. You probably have no idea how you look right now, wearing his shirt, one of the many hickeys he left on you poking out from your collarbone, laying in his bed all tired but horny because of him-

Okay, enough of that for now. Choso shakes himself out of his little reverie and glances around his bedroom floor to spot a different pair of sweats to slip into. He swiftly does so, groaning in discomfort while he turns his back to you and debates on putting a shirt on.

You lay in his bed staring at him, your eyes widening at his back profile and the numerous bright red scratch marks decorating his skin. Damn, did you do that last night?

You almost smile at the sight but in the corner of your eye, for whatever reason, the lyrics to the song from earlier seem to catch your attention. Said song was over by now but the last end of the hook was fading out. Brightly reading the words ‘Even though it’s wrong’.

Now, it’s just a song but you can’t help but find it funny considering you just had sex with Choso last night, and almost again just a few seconds ago. It’s almost like you were forgetting something-

“See what you did t’my back last night?” Choso’s voice tugs you from your mind and you look at him.

Scoffing, “Looks like you were attacked.” You comment teasingly.

Choso tosses the shirt he was considering putting on and shrugs, “Does it?”

“Yeah,” You sigh, laying on your side and watching him glance into his bedroom mirror.

The man turns around briefly to admire the marks left on him and he grins, “Holy shit,” Choso breathes, smiling at the sight, “I looked at it a bit last night but fuck, you clawed at me like crazy.”

“…Did you not feel it while you were fucking me down into the mattress ‘nd telling me to ‘take it’ for like twenty minutes straight?” You ask dryly.

He pretends to think for a long moment and opens his mouth to say something snarky but another ring of the doorbell cuts him off.

“Better go get that,” You hum playfully.

Choso groans, clearly annoyed by the constant interruption before swiftly exiting the room. Entering the hall, passing the living room and the kitchen, and soon approaching the door.

He lets out a yawn as he unlocks the door and soon opens it, “If this is about the noise last night, I jus’ wanna cut this short by sayin’ I’m-, oh,” Choso cuts himself short as he makes eye contact with the person awkwardly standing at the door.

The man in front of him furrows his brows, “I uh-“

Choso interrupts by putting a hand up and glancing back inside the apartment, “Door’s for you!” He shouts back to you. Then, he looks at the person in front of him one more time, sizes him up, and scoffs, “She’ll be out in a sec'.”

The man opens his mouth to reply but Choso rudely slams the door in his face.

Frustrated, and with his mood almost completely ruined, Choso groans again as he makes his way back to his bedroom. As he walks in, he spots you sitting on the edge of his bed looking down at something on the floor before you look back at him over your shoulder.

“What do you mean the door’s for me?” You ask softly, “And uh,” He watches you lean down to pick up a tarnished piece of fabric, “When the hell did you rip my panties?”

“Last night, duh,” Choso huffs out rather sassily before brushing past his bed and heading toward his bathroom.

“You owe me a new pair,” You tell him with a pout on your face.

With no emotion in his voice, “I’ll buy you twenty.” He says curtly before disappearing into his bathroom completely.

You scoff at his sudden attitude and dismissal of your first question, moving to stand on slightly wobbly legs as you extend your arms into the air to stretch. Sighing, you glance around to find your shorts, soon spotting them and slipping into them before exiting the room.

Every step you take, you feel faint soreness but you think the medicine and massage Choso gave you helped your body not to feel too bad. As such, you steadily make your way to the front door— wondering if there’s a package for you or something. You still get the feel you’re forgetting something but between that and Choso’s sudden grumpiness, you just-

Every thought of yours comes to a sudden halt as you swing open the door.

“S-Satoru?” You breathe.

Oh, so that’s what you’d been forgetting. Gojo Satoru, y’know, the guy you’ve been getting along with better than you ever have with any other guy you know, the guy who’s nothing but a gentleman to you, the guy who you were literally dancing with less than twenty-four hours with, the-

Yeah, you get the point. Either way, you’re left staring up at the man with your eyes as wide as ever and your breath caught in the middle of your throat. Staring into Gojo’s kindhearted and dazzling blue eyes, feeling an abrupt rack of guilt lump up in your chest as your mind scrambles for some way to process your situation.

Swallowing thicker than ever, you slowly step out into the hall with him and shut your apartment door behind you, “What uh-, w-why-, what’re you doing here?” You stammer out with the faintest shake in your voice.

Gojo moves to scratch the back of his neck, “If I’m being honest, I’m not too sure myself.”

Blinking in confusion, you tilt your head, “What?”

“I just-,” Gojo sighs, “You didn’t respond at all last night or this morning, so I got a little worried…”

“So… you show up at my apartment?” You question further as you raise a brow at the man.

He winces, “Is that weird-, this, is this weird?” Gojo asks as he gestures to his being here.

Maybe if you weren’t guilty of sleeping with your best friend it wouldn’t be…

“U-Uh, no?” You huff out almost awkwardly, “I just wasn’t expecting you, sorry. My phone died on me last night and I never plugged it up.”

He nods before glancing to the side, “Busy with other things?” 

You choke on your own guilt all over again, “I-I’m sorry?”

“Your roommate said somethin’ about a noise complaint,” Gojo recalls simply as he looks at you once more.

Your brows go up, “Did he? Well, that’s probably from whatever he was up to before I got home.”

Gojo tilts his head at you and you feel as though he could see right through you, “Riight…” He hums, “Anyway, I just came over to make sure you were okay.”

“I appreciate that Gojo but what could’ve possibly have happened to me from last night when you dropped me off to this morning?” You point out to the man with a little laugh. Sure, regret and guilt were eating you alive right now but that still doesn't explain Gojo’s sudden appearance, “I live with someone I’ve known for like eight years.”

“I don’t know-, wait, you’ve known him for eight years?” He redirects as he narrows his eyes at you.

“I met him during my freshman year of high school, Satoru,” You chuckle, “He’s my best friend.”

“Is that all?” Gojo blurts out.

You blink, “Huh?”

The man gulps, having not meant to ask that so suddenly, “Like, are you two just best friends?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.” You reply straightforwardly.

“I-“

Quick to snap back at the man for questioning you in an accusing manner, “Aren’t you and Geto just best friends?” 

“Yeah,” He murmurs.

“Is that all?” You ask with a smirk.

“Of course-,” He cuts himself off with a scoff, “Okay, I see what you did there.”

“Mhm,” You hum, “So if that’s all then uh,” You slowly begin to motion toward the door behind you.

Gojo reaches a hand out, “Wait, are you free today?”

You pause, “Depends on what for.”

“Me,” He shrugs.

“Am I free for you today?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmmm, I dunno, I gotta check my schedule, Satoru.” You say teasingly as you lean left against the doorframe, “I’m a busy woman, y’know…”

Those pretty rose-tinted lips of his curve into a smirk, “Oh are you now?”

You smile, “Mhmm..”

Gojo takes a little step closer and lifts his shoulders, “Can’t you spare some of your time for your favorite barista?”

“I can consider,” You tell him before eyeing the man up and down, “What did you wanna do with me anyway?”

“Jus’ hang out.” He explains simply.

“That’s all?”

“Mhm.”

Clicking your tongue, “I would but, I was planning on taking a bit of a rain check today.”

“Oh,” Gojo hums, his brows lifting in surprise, “That’s uh-, that’s cool. I mean, yeah, no, that’s-“

“Satoru,” You snort.

He stops himself from making even more of a fool of himself, clearing his throat and meeting your gaze, “Yes?”

Lifting a finger, you gesture him to come closer and he shuffles his feet toward you. Then, you reach up for his shirt and carefully pull him down to you.

“Stop being such a dork,” You sigh with a smile on your face. Then you plant a kiss on his cheek and hug him, “And thank you for coming to check on me.”

Gojo’s body goes still for a moment while you wrap your arms around his neck and push up on your toes to hug him fully. After which, his arms are engulfing your waist and he’s letting out a sigh as he reciprocates your hug.

“Anytime,” He murmurs, his hands caressing your back, “Sorry if I made things weird…”

You chuckle, “You’re fine, Satoru. You jus’ surprised me, that’s all.” You slowly retract from the hug and meet his eyes one last time, “So… I’ll see you Monday morning?”

He nods, “Yeah.”

And with that, the two of you are steady to say your goodbyes to one another— soon parting ways as you watch him leave before disappearing back into your apartment and letting you the heaviest sigh ever.

Silence engulfs you as you stand there at the door for a moment. What are you? Some kinda slut? You literally had sexual interactions with not one, but two men on the same night.

Christ, what the hell got into you last night (aside from Choso)? Now the guilt was really settling in. It hit you earlier when you first laid eyes on Gojo but now that you’ve spoken to him, it’s like you feel even worse.

How could you completely forget him last night? The guy went out of his way to show up the next morning just to make sure you were okay and yet there you were, having just been pulled away from having sex with your best friend for a second time. This was so beyond fucked up-

“Y’know if all else fails,” The sound of your brown-haired best friend speaking tugs you out of your thoughts, “You should really consider acting because that was-“

“Oh my god, Choso,” You instantly let out a long groan, turning around to glance at him standing in the nearby kitchen, “Please shut the hell up.”

He frowns, “What’d I do?”

A sigh of frustration is let out, “Me. You did me, and that’s the problem.”

His face contorts to confusion as your statement hits his ears, “How? It’s not like you’re dating the guy.”

He makes a rather good point there but that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty about forgetting about him and lying to him. “But I like him.” You argue.

Choso rolls his eyes, “So? What does that-“

“A lot,” You emphasize.

Your best friend cocks his head to the side and crosses his arms, “You like him ‘a lot’ but you let me fuck you last night?” 

At that, your breath is caught in your throat, “I…”

He heaves out a really heavy sigh, “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I won’t say anything to him.”

You meet his gaze with thankful eyes, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Choso shrugs, “We had sex, who cares. Why would I go out of my way to tell him that?”

“Because you hate me and find joy in my suffering,” You comment jokingly.

He laughs, “I don’t hate you.”

“Debatable,” You argue, “But anyway, thanks.”

Then, you move away from the door and slowly start walking in the direction of your bedroom.

“Mhm,” Choso hums, his eyes following you, “So, are we gonna pick up where we left off or-“

You’re quick to cut him off and not allow yourself to let him have his way with you yet again— you feel shitty enough as is, “Not in the mood anymore, Cho.”

Choso, not fazed by your rejection in the slightest, merely nods, “Another time then?”

The last thing you say to him is a crisp, “No.” Before you disappear into your bedroom and shut your door behind you.

There’s the slightest panging felt in Choso’s heart at the sound of that but he ignores that feeling entirely. ‘No’, you said. He scoffs, yeah right, let’s see how long that lasts…

mlist | last chapter | next chapter |

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[irisposts]

Embers of Us

summary | you plot to kill your uncle aemond and avenge your fallen brother.

paring: aemond x neice!reader

warning: kissing, p n v, very smutty oh and some angst, spoilers for s1e10

note: i haven't written smut in like a year. bare with me cus it's pretty ass.

word count: 2.8k

not edited

Gold coins fall into the rat catcher’s palm, his fingers quiver as you release the last two. The cold steel of your gaze pierces through him.

“Now leave,” you command, your voice sharp and hushed.

He nods hurriedly, retreating into the shadows from which he came. Your eyes lift to the second floor—the royal floor.

You ascend the stairs silently, each step filled with the weight of your purpose. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as memories flood your mind—of Luke, of the war, of what was taken from your mother. The dagger beneath your cloak feels heavier with each breath.

When you reach Aemond’s door, your fingers shake as they graze the frame. Taking a sharp breath, you push it open just enough to peek inside. And there he is—Aemond Targaryen, your estranged uncle. The man that would meet his fate by the end of your dagger.

The room is bathed in the warm glow of scattered candles, their flames flickering against the stone walls. Aemond sits at a table, his back to you, his silver hair catching the light. He doesn’t turn when you slowly close the door behind you and seal the space between you.

Each step you take is measured, deliberate, as you approach. As you reach him, your hand shoots out, grabbing a fistful of his silver hair. You yank his head back sharply and raise your dagger to his throat, the cold steel pressing against his skin. He hisses a breath through his teeth, unfazed.

“Niece,” Aemond murmurs, a low, cruel chuckle rumbling from his throat.

You tighten your grip on his hair, your voice taut with fury. “Uncle.”

Aemond raises his hands, a gesture of surrender. “Easy.”

Your wrist moves to swipe across his neck and then, with a swift move, he disarms you effortlessly–your blade goes clattering to the floor.

Before you can react, he’s on his feet, facing you with your own weapon pointed at your chest. You unsheathe another dagger, stepping back, trying to create distance.

His gaze locks onto yours, a faint smirk curling his lips. “Did Rhaenyra send you to do this, or are you foolish enough to act on your own?”

“My mother—your rightful queen—” you spit, your eyes burning with rage. Aemond scoffs at the words, but you press on. “—has nothing to do with this. I came for Luke.”

Something flickers in Aemond’s expression, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. His face hardens, cold and controlled. He steps slowly around the chair, voice lowering but steady.

“Luke was... a casualty of war,” he says, his tone almost detached. “War does not care for innocence. I am a soldier, and soldiers do what must be done. Blood is spilled, and it claims whoever stands in its path.”

“Casualty of war?” you seethe, your voice a mix of anguish and fury. “He was just a messenger! He wasn’t a threat to you, and yet you—” Your voice cracks, your chest tightening. 

Aemond’s face hardens further, his hand drifting toward his eyepatch as if by reflex. “The war,” he snaps, “began the day I lost my eye to your brother’s blade. A debt was owed.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, your hands shaking as anger courses through you. “But his life?” you choke, your voice faltering as tears well in your eyes. “He was just a boy!” You place a hand on your chest and spit through gritted teeth. “…We had nothing to burn.”

Aemond’s gaze softens for a brief moment, the flicker of guilt in his eye is buried beneath layers of pride, but it’s there.

You steady yourself, swallowing the sob threatening to escape. With trembling hands, you tilt your chin high and raise the dagger once more, whispering, "Se iā daor." (And now, you must die.)

You plant your feet firmly and charge towards him. Aemond catches your wrist midair, but you’re ready. With your free hand, you unsheathe another hidden dagger and swipe it across his side, the blade cutting through the fabric of his clothes and into his skin. A grunt escapes his lips as he staggers back, and the two of you tumble to the ground in a fierce struggle. The cold stone presses against your bodies as you grapple, breaths heavy and ragged, hands clawing and striking.

Aemond throws a punch, but you block it just in time, your arm bracing against the blow. In the chaos of tangled limbs, your fingernails catch his face, tearing away the eyepatch.

Everything stills.

Aemond freezes, his breath hitching as your gaze falls to the scarred, hollow space where his eye once was. But instead of a void, a sapphire gleams in its place, glowing faintly in the candlelight.

For the first time in years, you see the familiar tremor that runs through him. Fractured memories of child Aemond floods your mind, the Aemond you had once comforted when no one else dared to look at him.

Your heart slows as you reach your hand out to trace the scar and the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. But just as your fingers near him, Aemond’s hand shoots out, grasping your wrist.

His grip is firm, but not harsh. He holds your hand there, inches from his face, and the tension in the air thickens, the crackling candles the only sound between you.

The memory returns again—the quiet moments after Aemond had lost his eye. When you had been the only one to ask if he was in pain. The only one to sneak past your mother and Alicent to see to him—to offer him kindness when others turned away. That boy still exists, somewhere beneath the man who hovers before you now.

Aemond’s remaining eye flickers with something unreadable. Guilt, sorrow—perhaps, buried beneath his pride. “I’m letting you live,” he murmurs. “I won’t give you or your mother the satisfaction of my death. Nor will I give my brother the pleasure of yours.”

He loosens his grip, gently releasing your wrist. The violence that once filled the room moments ago now dissipates like smoke.

You continue to lay on the cold stone floor as grief overwhelms you, your body withers as bitter tears stream down your face. Damn him. Damn him for not giving you the chance to avenge Luke.

“No,” you sob, weakly striking his chest, the blows are soft and ineffective. Aemond doesn’t stop you. “No!” you cry again, your words spilling out in a broken mantra. “No.”

Aemond watches you, his expression unreadable. But something shifts in his gaze, something softer, more fragile than before. For a fleeting moment, you think you see unshed tears glistening in his eye, but the moment passes quickly.

In an unexpected gesture, Aemond reaches down and brushes a silver strand of hair from your face. He tucks it gently behind your ear. His thumb then swipes at the wetness beneath your eyes, lingering a moment too long. His fingers ghost against your skin.

His eye lowers, tracing the curve of your lips. His thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip. You taste the faint salt from your tears. He pauses, his eye searching yours, waiting—asking without words.

More tears threaten to spill, your heart torn between bitter betrayal and the love you had buried deep within.

But agaisnt your better judgement, you allow yourself to relax.

And then his lips meet yours, soft and careful, as if there’s a possibility you’d reject him. But you won't. You exhale a quiet sigh, melting into the warmth of his touch.

The kiss holds a thousand unspoken truths. It’s not just born of passion, but of release—of grief, regret, and love. For all the war, all the bloodshed and losses, the love between you had always lingered, hidden beneath layers of denial. Now, at this moment, it rises to the surface, undeniable.

Your fingers slip into his hair, pulling gently at the roots. Aemond’s hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss with quiet desperation.

For this fleeting moment, the storm outside the walls, the weight of the crown, and the shattered bonds of family fade into nothing. It is just the two of you, suspended in this moment where the war; your mother’s throne, and the blood between you are now distant echoes.

Aemond breaks away from the kiss and leans back. You watch carefully as he strips his top half bare. Your eyes roam over every inch of his chiseled form, taking in the smooth curve of his waist and the firm lines that make up his frame. Your gaze lingers on the wound of your doing. It sits right above his pelvis, off to the side.  It's not a deep cut, but it left specks of blood on his pale skin. 

Your fingers tremble as they reach for the strings of your top. Taking a shallow breath, you begin to remove your outer clothing. Aemond senses your anticipation and helps you out of your trousers. His touch sends shivers down your bare skin, as your naked form is fully revealed for his eyes to bare. 

Aemond slots himself between your legs and peppers kisses across your face, neck, chest, and abdomen. His silver hair tickling your skin as he continues downward. He slides his face in between your thighs, leaving soft kisses on either side.

He glances up at you for approval once more. Your cheeks flush and you give a quick nod before laying back down completely.

Aemond delicately parts your legs, his rough calloused hands gently brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs. A low moan escapes your lips as his skilled fingers spread you apart. He begins to massage and tease at your bud. Your back arches in pleasure as Aemond flattens his tongue and slowly licks you up in a long, sensual strip. 

"Gods," you mutter breathlessly.

Both of your hands are in his hair now, tight and pushing him deeper into your heat.

Aemond is undoubtedly skilled. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy as you wonder if some woman from his past, maybe someone from his court, had taught him these tricks. He moans against you and a rush heat of heat glides up your body. Your eyes roll back, as he continues to devou you like you’re the last meal on earth.

You move a peice of silver out of his face—you want to see everything.

Your fingers tangle in Aemond's hair once more as waves of pleasure course through your body.

His tongue moves with expert precision, alternating between teasing flicks and long, languid strokes. Your hips buck involuntarily, pressing yourself closer to his eager mouth.

His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he increases his pace. The room fills with the sound of your ragged breathing and muffled moans. You feel the familiar tension building deep within your belly, threatening to overflow at any moment.

Aemond reaches towards your breast, his hand massaging the mound. His fingers pinching and twisting at your hardened nipple. His tongue swirls and darts in and out of your wet heat, in perfect unison with his fingers. “Aemond.”

Just as you approach the precipice, Aemond pulls away, leaving you gasping and desperate for release. His mismatched eyes, one sapphire gem and one his familiar ocean blue, lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

His lips glisten in the light with your slit.

You watch as he stands tall and wrangles himself out of his trouser. Now, completely baring himself to you as you do him. Aemond's manhood is long and thick, standing with attention and glistening with a bead of precum at the tip. You note the thick veins along his shaft. Your mouth waters at the thought of tasting him.

You chew on your lips in anticipation as Aemond brings himself back down to your level and hovers above your face. You both don’t pay any mind to your centers brushing against one another as he situates himself between your legs.  Both of you are too caught in each other’s gaze.

Instinctively, your fingers reach up again to trace the scar across his eye—the one that defines so much of who he is now. 

This time, he allows it. His face melts into your outstretched palm, eyes fluttering closed as your thumb brushes the sensitive area near the socket of his lost eye.

His hair falls like a sheer veil, cloaking the two of you. “iksā gevie” You say the words so softly it’s a mere whisper. (You’re beautiful.) 

Aemond's eye soften and he gently removes your hand from his face. 

But instead of letting go, he lifts your wrist to his lips and kisses the thin skin there. His lips linger for a moment before he lowers your hand back down to rest at your side. Aemond grabs himself between you both and positions himself at your entrance. 

You mentally and physically prepare yourself for what is about to happen, knowing it is an act of betrayal. Not only to your family, but to yourself.

Slowly, he enters you with the tip of his cock, causing a simultaneous moan from the both of you. Him from feeling the warmth of your walls and you from the pleasurable intrusion. You watch as his hips move, his skin glistening with sweat as he sinks deeper into you. You watch the intensity in his gaze as he looks down at where you both meet, his face contorted with raw desire.

Your legs spread wider when your body’s are fully flushed. The sensation of being so full and heavy of Aemond is heavenly.

You cry out in bliss as he begins to move inside you. His hips rolling out and snapping into your cunt.

The rhythm of Aemond's thrusts are deliberate and powerful, each one rolling and snapping with increasing force. You feel the tension building within you, a fire that is threatening to consume you both. Your chest bounces as he growls into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

Your legs and hands cling around him, trying to hold on as his pace quickens. Your fingers claw into his back, leaving red marks in their wake. Aemond sucks at the salty flesh on the curve of your neck, biting down hard before meekly replacing his tongue and lips to ease the pain.

"sīr vok," he whispers into the shell of your ear in between thrusts, his voice low and rough. “se mirre syt nyke.” (So perfect, all mines)

You moan in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure overtakes your senses. The world around you fades away as Aemond continues to assault your inside, each thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Aemond reaches a certain depth inside you–hitting that one spot of nerves. A wave of pleasure washes over you and you cry out his name. Your back arches off the floor as you shake in ecstasy and gasp for air.

But Aemond doesn't slow down. He continues to fuck into you, through your orgasm, his grunts becoming more guttural and primal. He leans down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue dancing with yours . Your hands roam over his body, feeling every ripple and muscle as he brings both of you closer to the brink.

You wrap your legs tighter around him, urging him on as he pounds into you with an urgency that matches your own. Aemond buries himself between the curve of your neck, his moans loud and desperate. The familiar coil in your stomach begins to tighten once more as Aemond relentlessly drives into you.

“ivestragī ñuha—ah” You gasp at the sensitivity between your thighs. “laesi jurnegon jemome.” (let me see you). You beckon him to remove himself from your shoulder blade. 

Aemond obliges and turns his face towards yours. You stare as his features twist with pleasure. How his body tenses as he reaches his own peak, his hips stuttering against yours as he spills himself inside you. You feel the warmth of his seed filling you to the brim. You let out a sigh of satisfaction. He nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to gather the strength to withdraw from your body. You both watch as your essence coats him and his own drips between your thighs.

He falls down beside you in exhaustion.

You miss the warmth of him inside you, the feeling of him being close to you. 

The silence stretches, only your breathing echoing in the vast emptiness of the room, both of you lost in your own thoughts. 

After what feels like an eternity, you glance over at Aemond. He lies still, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

Without shifting your gaze from him, you say the words slowly, each syllable deliberate. “I’m going to kill you one day.”

It was a promise.

You expect a reaction—a sudden turn of his head, a flash of anger, perhaps even the feeling of his hand reaching for the dagger beside him, and driving it into your throat. But none of that comes.

Instead, Aemond remains as he is, his face serene, his eyes still locked on the ceiling as if it held all the answers. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink.

“I know.” His words are soft and matter a fact. 

You slowly turn your head, your eyes tracing the same path his do and stare at the ceiling above. The silence settles again, heavy and suffocating, but beneath it lies a quiet understanding– one neither of you are yet ready to confront.

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD part 5

Pairing: step-uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: the one with a late night visit, a hot breakfast and a surprise from Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cockwarming, rough!Joel, Tommy is sweet (for now), somno, f/m oral, face slapping (2), creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, exhibitionism, masturbation, swearing. Reader has hair that can be pulled. Tommy can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: I’m so excited to share this part with you all! It’s filthy and even sweet at times, until it’s not😅 Big thanks to @milla-frenchy for holding my hand, hyping me up and beta-ing this depravity😘Thank YOU ALL for your interest in this story!🥹 Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Love you all💖

Part 4 || SERIES MASTERLIST || Part 6 || MASTERLIST

*****

You feel ticklish, when a warm breath fans the inside of your thigh. In a second soft lips kiss your pussy and a hot tongue delves between your folds. Your back arches from the sudden pleasure and you open your eyes.

You’re lying naked in the middle of the table in the dining room, where your stepdad Tommy ate you out, while your step-uncle Joel watched.

You look down and see Tommy’s head between your thighs. He glances up and gives you a playful wink, before diving back into your pussy. He’s sucking on your clit and you’re softly moaning, while fruitlessly trying to gather your thoughts and remember if your mother is at home or not.

You’re drowning in pleasure but suddenly you hear a growl behind you. Scared to death you hastily tilt your head back and to your surprise find Joel sitting at the head of the table. With confusion you see that he’s eating a steak. He’s stabbing his fork and knife into the meat, loudly cutting it while watching his brother having another type of meal.

What the fuck? You try to say but can’t. Rage begins bubbling in your stomach, tinting the pleasure Tommy’s giving you. ‘Why is he just sitting there? Why is he only watching? Arrogant motherfucker!’

Joel seems to notice your anger, because the next moment he leaves the fork and knife on the plate and gets up. Planting his hands on the wooden surface of the table, he leans forward and his face hovers over yours.

Your eyes lock for a few moments before Tommy plunges his tongue inside your crying hole and you gasp. Joel smiles, then leans closer and kisses you.

He’s gentle and soft, a stark contrast to his behavior when you spent a night together. His tongue tangles with yours while Tommy licks deep into you, gathering your arousal and drinking it, humming with satisfaction against your pussy.

You’re in heaven for a few seconds until you hear your mother’s voice. Your heart drops and you wake up.

You’re in your bedroom and the moon is peaking through a crack in the drapes. You’re breathing heavily, trying to calm down, as your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Suddenly a realization hits you that not everything from the dream dissolved into the reality. You still feel the lips, caressing your pussy. After hastily throwing off the blanket, you see Tommy devouring your cunt, his hands holding your thighs open while his mouth applies light suction to your hardened clit.

“Tommy,” you half whisper-half moan and he parts from your pussy and raises his head.

“Hey, baby. I’ll be right up,” you hear him whisper, before he gets back to work.

You look around the room, calming down bit by bit, and then put your head back on the pillow. You smile to yourself, thinking that the reality is almost as enjoyable as your dream.

You’re so close to the climax, your whole body vibrates, and when your stepdad rubs your clit with the flat of his tongue a few times, you’re already wriggling on the bed while euphoria is coursing through your body. You’re breathing out Tommy’s name and he laps up your juices and when his ministrations start hurting, you slightly push him away and he climbs up your body.

Soon he’s kissing you and you whimper, tasting yourself on his lips. You can’t get enough of each other, making out, while he’s lying on top of you. He starts slowly grinding his clothed crotch against the apex of your thighs and you feel him hard and big on your naked pussy.

“You’re back,” you whisper, when he parts from you.

After her weekend away, Jess took hold of Tommy and you haven’t seen him for a whole day. You haven’t seen Joel either, which was on purpose. You avoided him as hard as you could, having spent the whole day at your friend's place. You were trying to decide what to do next.

Joel wanted you to ruin Tommy’s marriage by sending the recording of their conversation to your mother. But after that night, you started to feel pity for your stepdad, especially after he asked you to delete the audio. He promised that you’d continue fucking and that was exactly what you had ever wanted from the plan. So you avoided Joel, hoping that he’d leave for Austin soon and your stepdad and you would sneak around to fuck any chance you got.

“Hope I didn’t scare you. Couldn’t help myself. You are so hot when you’re sleeping, sweetheart.”

Tommy kisses you again and you're practically melting in his arms.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whine and he growls.

“When you put it this way, I can’t say no,” he whispers, getting up to sit on his heels between your thighs.

He looks down at your naked pussy and swirls your clit with his thumb, making you jerk from the sensitivity. You ask him quietly,

“Where’re my shorts?”

“Took ‘em off. Was careful not to wake you”, he replies with a wink, his eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight.

You whine, as your core burns harder because of his words.

He frees his cock and it bobs over your waiting pussy. Your legs part, inviting him in, and he doesn’t make you wait. Tommy slides his cock into your already soaked cunt with a soft ‘yeah’, digging his fingers into your thighs and you echo him with a moan.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” he reminds you and whispers, “Fucking love your pussy. ‘s the best.” You feel flattered at the same time driving away the thought of who he’s comparing you with.

He starts pushing his cock in and out of your cunt, his moves slow and thorough. Tommy takes your ankle and puts it on his shoulder, while pressing your other thigh down, opening you up to him completely.

Even in the darkness of the room you see his cock glisten with your slick every time he pulls it out of your sopping cunt. His thumb is on your clit again and you cry out with the added pleasure, and he quickly shushes you,

“Shh, you don’t want anyone interrupting us, right, baby?”

You shake your head and when his finger returns to your throbbing bud, you whimper against the back of your hand, trying to be discreet.

For a few minutes it’s just this—him fucking you as you’re watching.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy murmurs and your gaze slides up from his cock, pounding your pussy, to his beautiful face. He’s smirking.

“Would you want Joel to be here with us?”

“No, I love being alone with you,” you whisper back, and he laughs.

“Your pussy clenched on me so hard when I said my brother's name,” Tommy says and slightly bites your ankle. “Don’t lie to me when I have my cock in you like this. She’ll always tell me the truth.”

You smile back at him.

“My pussy is a slut. But my heart—There’s only you.” You’re not sure if you’re lying or not but you know that this is what he wants to hear.

“Fuck, little minx”. Tommy breathes out and picks up the pace. You bite your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, and squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the way his big cock massages your walls.

“Bet you’d love to suck him off right now. Or have him in your ass. You need all your holes stuffed, right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” all you could manage to say while he’s relentlessly railing you.

“What if we plug all your holes, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you purr, feeling your core tighten.

“We can easily find a third guy. Anyone would be willing to fuck you, baby.”

The image of three men claiming your holes intoxicates you and you whimper, “really?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tommy says through heavy panting, “I don’t have anyone in mind here but in Austin— Joel surely knows someone who can gangbang you with us.”

You moan and he grunts, trying not to be too loud, but your pussy is too good to enjoy it quietly. His sounds make you clench even more and in no time you’re coming on his stiff cock, mouth open in a silent scream, back arched.

When your climax subsides, Tommy keeps going, rolling his hips deep and hard.

“Where, honey?” He asks with a little moan.

“Inside. Want your cum. Please, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as he praises you, he erupts into your wet heat, and you feel his warm seed kiss your walls and slide out of your hole, while he’s drawing pleasure from your cunt.

Tommy stills and gently pulls his cock out. He splays his palm on your lower belly, slightly rubbing your skin and asks,

“Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, it’s warm. I’m so full,” you mumble, putting your hand over his.

He whispers ‘good’ with a little smile and lies down next to you.

Your stepdad pulls you close and kisses you. You wish he’d never stop, never leave your bed. You fall asleep, happy and satisfied, on his broad shoulder.

*****

When you wake up, Tommy’s gone and you lie in bed, remembering the night before. You still sense your stepdad's hands, sliding over your body, his mouth on your pussy, his cock buried deep inside your burning core. You throw your blanket off, feeling hot and horny. You’re naked from your waist down and your pussy is still wet. Your needy cunt makes you bring your hand to your tingling center and you lightly trace the edges of your slicked up hole. Then you push a finger inside and pull it out completely wet with Tommy’s cum.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out and get more of his load from your leaking entrance. Then you swirl your clit, using Tommys cum as lube, and every nerve in your body lights up. You moan louder than last night, rubbing your throbbing clit, soaking the sheets with your sweat. As soon as you imagine Tommy’s tongue on your twitching bud, you come undone, limbs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing.

When you calm down, trembling legs carry you to the shower.

***

Before going downstairs you stick your head out of the bedroom door and listen. You hear Jess’s annoying voice downstairs, so Tommy must be there too. Wearing your slutty pjs - your stepdad’s favorite, and a crop top, you head downstairs, your hair still wet from the shower. You find your lover at the kitchen table, yawning and listening to your mom with a blank stare.

“Slept badly, Tommy?” you tease him, walking up to the table and taking a seat next to him.

At first he beams, seeing you, but quickly makes his face serious in the presence of your mother.

“I slept like a log,” your mom says and you smile to yourself, thanking her for it.

You grab a toast and nibble on it, just enjoying Tommy’s presence and trying hard to tune Jess out.

Her yapping about something stupid and boring is soon interrupted by a door ring.

“It must be Cindy,” she says, getting up and leaving the room.

As soon as she’s out, your hand flies to Tommy’s thigh.

“Is she leaving?” You ask, rubbing his leg with a devilish smile.

His breath hitches and you notice that he matches your excitement, judging by the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Yeah. Be patient, baby.” He takes your hand and moves it from his thigh up on the table. He’s trying to keep his composure but his blown eyes, sliding over your body, tell you that he’s as desperate as you’re.

You turn to the door, hearing your mom’s steps, and to your disappointment, see Joel following her into the kitchen. He’s wearing a low cut shirt that exposes his sexy chest and a pair of tight jeans, accentuating his huge package. As always he looks like a slut.

An involuntary ‘fuck!’ escapes your lips and you drop your gaze, trying to appear invisible to the man you’ve been avoiding.

Apparently Joel has heard you, because he comes up to you and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy to see you too, sweet niece,” he rasps and you jerk away from his lips but gush anyway, remembering him fucking your ass just a day ago.

He pats Tommy on the shoulder and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Jess is visibly displeased by his visit.

“You three have a nice morning. Cindy and I are going to Madison’s. Jack is leaving her for a 20 year old bitch. Can you imagine?”

“Maybe they’re in love,” you say, raising your brows, and your mom scoffs. Tommy glances at you, his gaze is full of warmth and affection, and you answer it with a little smile.

“Good for him,” Joel booms behind you and Tommy nervously squeezes his coffee mug.

You turn back to the older man, glaring at him, scared he might say something about your relationship with Tommy. He’s leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Jessica,” Joel continues, “men are not meant to be monogamous. It’s nature. They will always want someone younger and hotter.”

Jess rolls her eyes at him and you can’t help but follow her suit.

“They can be if they meet the right person,” you dispute and he smirks.

“Yes, angel, until they meet the next right person.”

He laughs and you’re boring your eyes into the man. Soon your staring contest is interrupted by Jess, saying that her friend is here.

Tommy goes to see her off and as soon as Joel and you are left alone, you get up and try to sneak out of the room as soon as possible.

You’re almost at the door, when a rough hand grabs your arm, unceremoniously spins you around and pins you to the fridge.

“Not so fast, missy,” Joel growls and your stomach drops, “Ya ghostin’ me, girl?” He presses you with his hips into the hard surface of the fridge and you feel his soft cock, which is still huge, against your lower belly and fire ignites in your core. You hate him but you can’t deny the pull he has on you. His scent, his body, his dominance overwhelms you and you get wet and push your thighs together.

You try to wiggle your way out but he’s too strong and big.

“What? No, Joel. I was just busy.”

“Doin’ what? Being a cum dumpster for my little brother?”

You avert your eyes and he chuckles, nodding his head, before bringing his face closer to yours.

“I need you to get his dick out of your mind for a second and do what you promised me. Send the fuckin’ recording to Jess. Now!” He roars and fear grips your heart and at the same time makes your arousal spike. You use all your strength not to moan. You need to stop thinking with your pussy for a second, need to concentrate, so you take a deep breath and try to reason with him.

“Joel, listen. I can’t do it now. I still have to live here for a week. Do you think she’ll be ok with me after she hears the recording? She’d hate me. Even more than now. I really don’t wanna be here for that shit show.”

You make your cutest pleading face and beg, “Please. I’ll send it as soon as I leave for college. I promise, Joel.”

His piercing stare under the furrowed brows makes your stomach churn, but you try to seem calm. After a few moments of consideration, Joel’s face softens and he slightly pulls away. He’s still very close and your chest brushes his, when you shift on your feet.

“ ‘k. But as soon as you’re out of ‘ere, send it. I’m tired of waitin’.”

“Yes, Joel.” You’re batting your lashes at him, feigning obedience and hiding the excitement that you just got yourself a week of fun times with your stepdad. Feeling bolder, you lower your gaze to Joel’s lips and a memory of him kissing you flashes in your mind. You crave having his mouth on yours. And more than that.

As if reading your mind, Joel leans to your face and his lips brush your cheek.

“Missed me, baby?”

Your breath hitches and he smirks, “ ‘s what I thought. Tommy may keep your pussy full but we both know how much ya want this cock.”

He bucks his hips into you and a new surge of arousal makes you throb.

Joel’s lips kiss your cheek and then get lower as he latches on your neck, immediately sucking a hickey into your delicate skin, while his hands grab your ass and he pins you to the fridge again.

Yet now you don’t want to escape, to run from him, you welcome his mouth, marking your neck, his hands, getting under your shorts and kneading your ass. He’s groaning, as his lips travel up to your mouth and you readily open yours, welcoming his tongue inside. The kiss is heady, sloppy and hot. He tastes like black coffee, cigarettes and something so uniquely Joel, you can’t get enough of it. Of him.

Your pussy cries to be touched, so you start grinding your mound on his stiff crotch and he smiles against your lips.

“Knew ya hungry for uncle’s dick, little slut.”

You’re not wearing any panties, and when his hand slides under your shorts, he grabs a handful of your tingling pussy, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, angel, is it all for me or is it Tommy’s cum dripping out?”

You don’t have time to reply, before he pushes two fingers into your soaked hole, and you gasp from the sensation, grabbing his massive arms.

Joel starts fucking your pussy in a steady rhythm, pushing his fingers in and out and rubbing your bud with his thick thumb.

Suddenly he grabs your throat and lightly squeezes it, his hot palm sending chills down your spine.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“Fuck you, perv,” you bite back with a smirk, as your whole body is revelling in bliss from his hands on your pussy and throat. Joel’s nostrils flare but he smiles. You both know the rules of the game you’re playing. You love when he’s rough with you as much as you love Tommy doting on his precious stepdaughter.

Your heart drops, when you hear footsteps, and you freeze, while Joel is nonchalantly keeps fucking you with his fingers. To your relief, you see Tommy walking into the room and after a surprised ‘the fuck?’ he comes up to you two.

You slightly turn your head to him, Joel’s hand on your throat still keeping you in place. Your stepdad’s expression, worried at first, gets softer when he sees your hazy eyes and parted lips and he gives you a warm smile.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Tommy asks, while Joel is shamelessly working your cunt.

“Yeah, Daddy,” you whine and Joel chuckles.

“She’s still full of your cum, Tommy. Ya played with her tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replies in a proud voice, “filled her up good. Right, sweetheart?”

You try to nod, which is difficult, as Joel is holding you by the throat.

Tommy bends down and yanks your shorts down, until they pool at your feet. He plants his elbow on the fridge next to you and tilts his head to the side, watching Joel’s glistening fingers slide in and out of your needy hole.

You feel your orgasm coming up and whine a pathetic ‘daddy.’

“Yeah, sweetheart, let it go. Wanna see your pretty face, when you come.” Your stepdad leans closer and kisses you. Joel’s hand lightly squeezes your throat and you breathe in Tommy's air. The hard bulges of your stepdad and step uncle, snugly pressed to your body, Joel’s hands, Tommy’s lips make you throb and you cry out, as your climax sets you ablaze.

“Good girl,” Joel mumbles while Tommy’s kissing you on top of your high. You’re whimpering into his mouth, your pussy squelching, still being finger fucked by Joel. Tommy parts from your lips and watches your face twist in pleasure.

When your orgasm dissipates, Joel pulls out his digits, coated in your creamy cum, and brings them to your mouth.

“Clean up your mess, angel.”

You do as you’re told, licking and slurping on his thick fingers, while his hungry eyes are watching your every move. When you’re done, he pulls them out and grabs your breast.

“Time for your second breakfast.”

He unzips his jeans and you see his cock spring out. His fat tip is glistening and you lick your lips.

Joel chuckles and goes to the table. He sits down on one of the chairs, manspreading and holding his throbbing length in his hand.

Tommy steps up to you and hugs you, his hands quickly finding their way to your bare ass and squeezing your cheeks in his big palms. You nuzzle his neck, leaning on his broad chest after the hard orgasm.

“C’mon, angel. My cock won’t suck itself,” Joel’s gruff voice breaks the silence of the room.

Tommy pulls away, takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up to face him.

“Do you wanna sit on my cock and blow your uncle, baby?”

These depraved words coming from your stepdad, your mother’s husband, make your head spin with lust. You’d do anything for him right now. For both of them.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you whimper and he leads you to the table. Mugs and plates are still left on its surface, making the situation hotter for some reason.

Tommy sits in the chair next to Joel and pulls his gray sweatpants down. They’re already stained with precum and when he takes his cock out, you see it weeping for you.

Joel gets your attention with a slap on your bare ass, growling, “Can’t even suck a dick without your daddy stuffing ya? Needy little slut. Fuckin’ whipped.”

“Don’t be jealous, Joel,” you purr, standing between two men half naked, your inner thighs glistening with your cum in the bright morning light.

“It’s his pussy, but you get to have my mouth and ass which is too generous on my part. You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am, angel. Let me show you how grateful I am by fuckin’ your pretty face.”

With that he gets up and lays his heavy hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, time to sit on your daddy’s cock,” he chuckles, and you’re enjoying how impatient he is to feel your mouth.

You get between Tommy’s legs, your back to him and after planting your hand on the table, start lowering your hips. Your stepdad guides you with his hands on your waist and soon you feel his tip nudge at your sopping hole.

With Joel’s cock bobbing in front of your face, you start sinking on Tommy’s length. Your languid moan fills the kitchen as you take him deeper and deeper. Joel’s hand on your shoulder pushes you roughly down and you sit on your stepdad’s cock with a gasp.

“Joel, be gentle,” Tommy scolds his brother and you look up at Joel with a triumphant smile.

Tommy pulls you closer to his torso while your pussy is adjusting to his thickness. He's pulsating inside you as your cunt gushes around his girthy length.

Joel doesn’t give you time to revel in the sensation. He grabs you by the hair, tight but not hurting you, and pulls your face closer to his cock.

His fat wet tip hits your lips and you look up at him with defiance, not taking it in your mouth. You want it, but the opportunity to make him boil is too delicious to miss.

“Can I slap this bitch, brother?” Joel asks Tommy, not tearing his eyes off your smug face.

“I asked you to be gentle, Joel,” Tommy scolds him but your ears perk up.

“But I want it, daddy,” you whine, your lips brushing Joel’s velvet head.

“ ‘k then.”

As soon as Tommy says it, Joel's palm harshly lands on your cheek and you grab the side of the table as your head sways to the left. Tommy’s hands grip your hips harder as he growls,

“Fuck, you do really love it, baby. Your little pussy clenching me so hard.”

“Yeah,” you whimper, rubbing your cheek, while Joel’s fist is still clenching your hair. The slap burns a little and you love it.

“Anytime, angel, we all know you deserve it. Now open your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel commands and you do it with a content gaze.

He pushes his throbbing cock between your lips, and you taste his salty precum. You suck on his head, cockwarming your stepdad.

Your hands are planted on Joel’s hips for stability and you take him deeper into your hot mouth until his tip hits your throat.

“Oh, yeah, angel. Ain’t ya happy I finally let you suck on my dick?”

You hum around his cock and both men chuckle.

“I think it’s a ‘yes’”, Tommy chuckles as his hands squeeze your thighs, then glide up over your belly and then pull your top up. He gently kneads your naked tits, as your whimpers are muffled by your step uncle’s fat cock.

You begin bobbing your head up and down, lips curled over your teeth, saliva dripping down your chin, sliding down to his balls. You try to keep your gaze focused on his face, lust and pleasure painting his features. His blown half-lidded eyes watch you blow him and then lower to enjoy the way Tommy’s playing with your pebbled nipples, twisting and tugging on them. You roll your eyes, dancing on the verge of orgasm from Tommy’s ministrations, his length throbbing deep inside you like the second heartbeat and Joel’s cock filling your mouth. You clench hard around Tommy.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans behind you and gently nips at your shoulder, “you’re incredible. Wanna live in your perfect cunt.”

Joel chuckles, “your wife may object.”

No one reacts to his quip, Tommy’s too entranced by your pussy, you’re slurping and gagging on Joel’s member.

He pats your head after a contend groan. “Ahh, doing great, baby. Told ya it’s all ya good for, sucking a cock and sitting on it.”

His warm hand cups your cheek and your eyes lock. “Make her come, Tommy, my little niece deserves it.”

“She does. She’s choking my cock so well.”

“Speaking of choking,” Joel pulls you off his member and you whine.

“Hungry little slut. Don’t worry, ya gonna get your favorite lollipop back. I’m gonna fuck your mouth and ya gonna come on Tommy’s cock, got it?”

You take a deep breath, knowing fully well that Joel won’t spare you, but you nod, biting your lip, “I’ll do my best, daddy,…uncle,” you reply to both of them and the men hum approvingly.

Tommys hands brush your soaked folds, spread open by his cock, filling your core, and his thumb finds your clit, already puffy after Joel’s fingers.

You clench around your stepdad and he moans, “fuck, baby, I won’t last..”

You want to say it’s ok, but Joel already takes your head between his giant palms and pushes his cock back into your mouth. Tommy’s fingers start rubbing, swirling your little clit, while Joel begins fucking your mouth. The roll of his muscular hips is slow at first, merciful, but getting closer to an orgasm, he moves faster and rougher.

His fingers pull at your hair, as his cock plunges into your mouth, hitting your throat again and again. You try to breathe around him, gasping for air any time he lets you, but it’s hard because of how huge he is and you scratch his hips to make him pause.

He pulls you off and slightly slaps your cheek, scolding you, “no scratching, bad kitty.”

You gasp for air and then giggle, being absolutely cock drunk and drowning in the pleasure of having two fat cocks inside you. You feel like you could faint from the ecstasy.

Your core tightens when the flat of Tommy’s palm rubs your whole pussy. He’s rapidly shaking his hand left and right, making your sloppy cunt squelch as you start coming. Joel stuffs your crying out mouth with his cock again, muffling you and fucks deeper, harder into your throat.

You feel yourself like nothing but holes for their cocks, a fuck doll, made solemnly for their pleasure, and the thought makes your pussy pulsate harder.

Your limbs tremble, your whole body jerks with every wave of euphoria. Saliva is drooling down your chin as your pussy coats Tommy’s thighs with your creamy cum.

“Such a good girl for us,” Tommy praises, choking on his words, as he explodes inside you. Loud groans escape his mouth, as he’s painting your walls with his hot cum.

“Yeah, like that, good slut” Joel moans as your lips, tongue and throat are massaging his cock. He starts coming too, his load squirting inside your throat and you drink it all, without any need to swallow.

When your orgasm subsides and they stop pumping their seed into your spent body, Joel takes his cock out of your mouth and you try to catch your breath, leaning against Tommy’s hot chest.

With his cock still inside you, he’s peppering kisses over your shoulders, neck, cheeks while his gentle hands are caressing your body, thanking you for the pleasure you gave him. Joel tucks his cock inside his jeans and plops on the chair. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes half-closed, your limbs pleasantly tingling, you’re watching him watch you. You hate how good this handsome fucker makes you feel. He’s an asshole but deep inside you have to admit he’s closer to you than Tommy. Just like you he gets what he wants, no matter the feelings of people you might hurt in the process.

Tommy brings you out of your thoughts, gently turning your head to him to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he’s hugging you tight, while his cum drips out of your pussy.

Joel interrupts you two after a few seconds by getting up with a grunt.

Tommy and you stop making out and look up at him.

“Can I get a kiss, uncle?” You ask, smiling with a twinkle in your eye. You expect him to refuse tasting his cum on your tongue but he surprises you,

“ ‘course. C’mere,” he motions you to get up with a jerk of his chin, and with widened eyes you get up, as Tommy’s cock slides out of your hole.

Joel pulls your half-naked body to him and wraps his arms around you. Your heart flutters when he’s being so affectionate with you. You can’t help but moan when he presses his lips to yours. Soon he’s licking into your mouth, as you’re melting against his chest.

His lips shift to the side and brush your ear, “thanks for the blowie, angel. One day I’ll return the favor.”

Your spent and used up pussy aches again, imagining him on his knees between your legs.

“Can’t wait,” you whisper back and plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

When Joel leaves, Tommy takes you in his arms and carries you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed and you roll under the blanket. You fall asleep while he’s caressing your cheekbone with his thumb.

****

You wake up with a jerk. It’s still sunny outside, you must have slept for a couple of hours. Soon you realize the reason for your abrupt awakening. Jess is screeching downstairs. You hear Tommy’s voice too, he’s not as loud as her but he’s definitely trying to over shout your mother.

You’ve heard them arguing before but not as bad as now. You furrow your brows and chew on your lip, still staying in bed.

Listening to them, by habit you grab your phone and check notifications. There’re a few messages from your friends, a missed call from your grandma, and then you see it.

A set of instant messages in your family chat.

The last one from Joel Miller.

You wonder why the fuck he’s in your family group chat at all and then your heart freezes and you start feeling nauseous when you open the last message. It’s a photo.

Of Tommy sitting on the bed in the master bedroom and you straddling him. Both of you are naked. It was shot from the back so your faces are not visible but it’s clearly you two.

Your hands start shaking and you drop your phone, that almost hits your terrified face.

You’re lying for a few long moments almost motionless, while a whirlwind of emotions is swirling in your stomach and your mind is screaming, trying to decide what to do now.

There’s only one way out.

Out.

You get up, put on some clothes and hastily start packing. You take whatever you see and throw it into your suitcase. Then you pad downstairs and sneak out of the house, fortunately, not getting caught by anyone.

Soon you’re walking along the street, with the luggage behind you, running away from the place you definitely can’t call home anymore. Your heart is pounding in your ears, though a part of you feels free, free of your mother, free of the old life. Fuck her. You call your friend and ask if you can crash at her place. She says ‘yes’ and offers to pick you up at the nearest bus stop. While you’re waiting for her, you look at the family chat again.

The fear that you felt before gives way to anger. You’re so mad at Joel, your eyes well up with tears and you wanna scream and break things. Just when you thought that your step uncle believed your promises, he goes and pulls this shit?!

With trembling fingers, you find an audio recording on your phone and send it to Tommy, mumbling under your breath,

‘Thought you could fuck me over like that, asshole? Let’s see who gets fucked now.’

The message to your stepdad goes through and you press ‘play’ and in the quiet of the suburban street you hear Joel’s gruff voice, telling you the plan of getting Tommy move back to Austin, “step one, angel - we record my little brother sayin’ that he wants to fuck ya…”

*****

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖 it motivates me to write more filth for you wonderful people😘 and I’d love to hear your thoughts/thots/ideas. What’s gonna happen next? 👀

Part 6 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @ratoonstown @tammythr @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @talaok

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

[peachessndreamss]

Thunderstruck

Summery : When a scorching hot summer a thunderstorm wakes you and Eddie and gets the two of you worked up

Characters : Eddie Munson x fem!reader. no use of y/n

Warnings : explicit sexual content including, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex, canon typical drug use

Word count : 3.2 k

A/N : Previously posted on my now deleted page. Honestly just re-sharing because I still love this idea and this character. And I'm willing the summer to start here.

Is there anything sweeter than a summer thunderstorm? The weather had been oppressively hot for two weeks now, the grass was dead and yellow with the lack of rain and the soil in every flower bed deeply cracked and dusty. The town pool was full to bursting every day of the week with children and adults alike trying to escape the heat. 

Eddie's home often became so hot in the day it was physically impossible to stay inside for more than a few minutes without feeling like you were being cooked alive in an oversized tin can. You’d spend the hours of sunshine sitting outside on old and creaking sun loungers listening to music on Eddie’s stereo, reading or dozing. Eddie would strip down to his boxers and stretch out his slim, pale body in the shade but only after you’d smothered him in sunscreen and he was so greasy with it he looked like a professional wrestler. 

At night the trailer was a little cooler, but still every window needed to be flung open wide to coax in the almost non-existent cool breeze that danced on the warm night air. You’d sleep under a thin, cotton sheet, as anything else would have been too uncomfortable and even then, with Eddie running hot, he often abandoned the sheet all together and just slept naked and uncovered. 

It had been an easy Saturday, nothing to be achieved and nowhere for either of you to be. Band practice had been cried off due to the heat and D&D wasn’t until Tuesday so you and Eddie had spent the day on the sun loungers. Eddie was re-reading The Hobbit, his copy battered and bent at the spine from the many times it had been opened and poured over. He would read his favourite parts aloud to you, giving every character their own distinct voice, he’d read it so many times now he was reciting it from memory rather than reading. 

After a dinner of take away pizza enjoyed outdoors with Uncle Wayne before he headed off for his shift , and a few joints to see the day home, you and Eddie had climbed into his bed, laying as far apart as possible as to not make each other warmer than necessary. 

It was very early in the morning when you were woken up, the room was still dark, not even a hint of the dawn in the darkness so it was the sound that had disturbed you and after listening for a few seconds you heard it again, the deep, rolling roar of thunder. It lasted for as long as 10 seconds before fading into a heavy silence. Then the rain started, a gentle plink-plonk at first but within moments it was a downpour. Heavy rain drops slamming into the roof of the trailer and bouncing back up only to fall again. Then another rumble of thunder and a flash of bright white lightning. 

“Eddie,” you whispered, grabbing at his arm and tugging gently, “Eddie, wake up,”.

Eddie snorted and shifted onto his back, turning his head and squinting at you. 

“Was it?” he grunted, confused and upset by being woken up. His nose scrunched up and his eyes struggled to open. 

“Listen,” you insisted quietly, grabbing hold of his forearm. His skin was hot to touch and clammy. 

It took him a few seconds to realise what you were talking about, as he listened, his brows unfurrowed and his eyes eased open. He cocked his head to one side, the tangle of curls under his head crackling on the fabric of his pillow. 

“It’s raining?” he asked, glancing at you. 

“It’s a thunderstorm,” you replied with a grin. 

“Awesome,” he said with a grin as he sat up and flung himself off the bed and across the small room to the window, yanking back the light curtain and taking in the scene. 

The sky seemed to glow dark red and stormy grey, the clouds low and flat, hanging over the town like a wet blanket. The rain that was falling was fast and heavy and the clattering, pattering sounds it made caused a shiver to run up Eddie’s spine. Suddenly there was a deafening roll of thunder, so loud it felt like it was happening inside your head, it was followed only a second later by a fork of lightning that illuminated the whole sky as it raced toward the ground. 

“Shit, that’s close,” Eddie said over the sound of the rain. 

“It’s so cool,” you replied, standing next to him at the window. 

The air outside was now much cooler and it whipped into the open window, bringing with it a smattering of rain. Eddie slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. The two of you watched three more lightning strikes, Eddie was certain that the last one must have hit his favourite picnic bench because the strike had been so close. 

You were now a little bored with the weather and your attention turned to the man standing beside you. You turned your head and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw, then another soft kiss on his cheek before bringing one hand up his naked back and shifting his curls away from his ear so you could kiss the lobe of his ear. You felt Eddie shudder and watched his eyes close as you let your lips linger on such a sensitive spot for him. 

"It's cooler now isn't it?" You said softly, turning your whole body so your front was now at his side, you placed one hand on his stomach, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin and the slight rasp of the hair that led down to his groin. 

"Yeah, a bit," Eddie swallowed as your hand moved a little lower down his stomach. 

You moved your head forward and snuggled into Eddie's neck, catching the smell of his sweat from his hair and his skin as you dragged your teeth against the soft skin. 

"Let's go back to bed Eddie," you mewled, your hand slipping even lower on his stomach, feeling the distinct change in his body hair, from the loose curls of his happy trail to the tighter and coarser curls of his pubic hair. 

Eddie swallowed hard, his cock already hardening and thickening at your touch. In less than an inch you'd be able to wrap your hand around the root of his dick and find him so ready to fuck. While the weather had been as hot and uncomfortable as it had been sex had been completely off the menu, neither of you liking the idea of any additional physical exercise than was strictly necessary. 

Eddie grabbed hold of your wrist before you reached the apex of his thighs and brought your wrist up to his mouth, biting gently at the soft underside of your wrist where a few delicate veins rose up from under your skin, almost imperceptible to the eye but Eddie knew they were there and how it made you squirm when they were touched. 

A thrill of pleasure ran around your naked body as his teeth caressed the delicate skin at your wrist before he kissed it softly. 

"Bed please, my love," he whispered before letting your wrist go and giving you a little bump with his hip in the direction of the bed. 

You smiled sweetly as you slipped out of his embrace and stepped back to the bed. Climbing on the end of the bed, glancing back over your shoulder while on all fours, finding Eddie watching you with his mouth open and a hungry look in his eyes. 

"Like this?" You asked, wiggling your hips from side to side. 

Eddie shook his head as he started to gather up his curls into an elastic he kept around his wrist. 

"On your back baby," he replied as he tightened the bun at the back of his head.

You grinned, feeling your body’s Pavlovian response to seeing his hair tied back like that as you flipped over onto your back in the centre of the small bed, your head resting on the pillow as Eddie positioned himself comfortably between your thighs. He'd settled himself with his cock trapped between his stomach and the mattress so when the mood took him he could grind down on the mattress. 

He ran his tongue over his lips as he looked up at your face, one of his forearms slipping around your thigh and lifted it onto his shoulder, your foot now resting on his back. His other hand pushed your other thigh aside, pushing your sex open for him. He made a sound of appreciation deep in his chest before he used two fingers to spread your slick lips open, exposing you even more intimately, giving him unlimited access to your clit, your entrance and with a tilt of your hips he'd have access to your tight asshole too. But right now, Eddie only had one thing on his mind. 

"Hey sweetheart," he cooed softly, dipping his head forward and placing a soft, closed lip kiss just above your clit.

"I've missed you," he continued in a soft, lilting voice, placing another kiss just below your clit. 

You made a soft purring sound, lifting your hips up a little, urging him to get to the main event. Eddie chuckled and gave you a very gentle slap on the thigh. 

“Don't rush me," he insisted, lifting his head to speak to you, "we need to get reacquainted and she's shy," he added before touching the pad of his thumb to your clit, the sudden direct contact making you jerk your hips off the bed and your hands claw at the bedsheet. 

"See?" He said with a grin as he cocked his eyebrow at you, "she's skittish,". 

Eddie returned his attention to your pussy and continued his slow torture, kissing around your clit, occasionally giving a small lick either side but never touching it directly. In what felt like hours to you, but was only 2 minutes in reality Eddie had you rocking and twisting your hips, trying to force him to give you the contact you wanted. 

"Eddie please, please please," you moaned as your hands fisted at the bedsheet. 

Eddie chuckled softly, rubbing his chin against the thigh he had hooked over his shoulder. 

"Needy, needy girl," he whispered sweetly before finally kissing your clit. 

The bud was tight and thumping in time with your heartbeat and Eddie's wet mouth created an explosion of pleasure and pain as the thousands of nerve endings were stimulated in unison. You gave a strangled cry, bucking your hips up and bringing one of your hands down on the back of Eddie's head, holding him in place, rocking your hips against his open mouth, feeling the hot, wetness of his tongue as he danced it over and around your clit. There was no consistency to his movements yet so while pleasure rolled around your body you knew he wasn't trying to make you come yet. He was still holding back. 

You moaned and bucked again, pushing Eddie's head down harder, feeling the press of his nose into your pubic mound. 

"Eddie, fuck, Eddie," you groaned as you noticed for the first time the slow, undulating movements of his lower body. 

You lifted your head up and watched his hips pressing and grinding down against the mattress, the muscles in his bare ass popping as he rolled his hips and clenched his glutes and thighs. The sight of him fucking at the mattress sent your body and mind spiraling as you dropped back onto the pillow and moaned loudly, your whole body suddenly more alive than ever. 

Eddie's tongue was now constantly licking at your clit, his lips fixed around it  creating a hot, wet seal around the bud. Eddie let you buck and grind and hold his face down all you needed until you finally reached your peak. Your voice disappeared for a few seconds as you felt nothing but hot pleasure rushing around your body.

As your muscles clenched and stars exploded behind your eyes a streak of lightning raced across the sky, turning the room as bright as your body felt for a few seconds. Your hand released Eddie's head and he moved a little, not enough to break contact but to ease up on your clit, stopping the intense licking and changing back to soft kisses to draw out your climax until you were shaking and writhing, nothing but soft mewling noises coming from your mouth.

"Oh god," you moaned softly as Eddie moved his kisses to the inside of your thighs, his eyes travelling up your body to your face. 

"That was so cool baby," he whispered, "you came so hard there was lightning,". 

You gave a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at the sweet man between your legs, he was looking up at you, his big brown eyes looking soft and loving. 

"Get up here and fuck me," you said, twisting a curl of his hair that had fallen loose around your finger. 

"Fuck yeah baby," Eddie replied as he clambered up, crawling up your body, pushing your thighs apart and bringing his hard cock right to your waiting entrance.

You were both beyond ready so Eddie sank into you easily, placing his hands on your thighs and drawing them up his body so you cradled him either side of his chest. He rested with his forearms either side of your head and kissed you deeply and he pressed his hips forward, filling your body with his, making you whole and creating a passionate fusion of your two bodies and your two souls. 

You broke away from his mouth and moaned his name, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging deep and leaving red marks in his alabaster skin. Eddie hissed at the burn of your nails in his flesh but the hiss quickly turned to a laugh as he dipped his head and licked up the column of your neck to your chin before kissing you again, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he drew his hips back before driving forward again.

You broke away from his lips, taking a deep gasping breath as the head of Eddie's cock hit right against your g-spot. As the lights burst behind your closed eyes the sky seemed to shake with a huge rumble of thunder, it was so loud and so close it felt like it might have made the trailer shake but it was hard to tell if the shaking was the weather, or Eddie as he picked up his pace. 

He moves from drawing out and pushing forward to grinding, keeping his cock buried deeply inside you and rocking his hips back and forth, meaning he was able to constantly stimulate you internally as well as externally, your clit now being rubbed by the muscles of Eddie's pelvis. You clawed at Eddie's back, crying out as you felt your second climax starting to build deep inside your belly. 

"Eddie, oh God, Eddie," you breathed. 

You moved your hands from his back to his face. Catching his cheeks between your hands and bringing his face close to yours, pressing your foreheads together. His face was sweaty and so was yours, your two sweats mingling on your skin. 

You felt so completely connected to him it was overwhelming, Eddie was everywhere and, in that moment, he was everything as well. The intimacy of it all aided in pushing you over the edge very quickly, your orgasm burst outward with the power of an exploding star. Your legs gripping Eddie's chest and your arms dragging his upper body closer to yours so it was impossible to tell who skin was who's. 

With a stuttering and guttural cry, taken by surprise by your suddenly gripping, milking pussy Eddie came, hard and deep. Filling you up as another rumble of thunder and flash of lightning split the sky. 

The two of you seem to float, for a while, suspended in space and time, your bodies both corporeal and ethereal, human and divine. You come back to the sound of the pattering rain and the tickle of Eddie's curls, the weight of his body feels safe and the heat of his skin feels comforting. 

"Eddie baby?" You said softly, stroking your fingers down his spine. 

"Yeah?" He mumbled, his face pressed deep into the space beside your neck. 

"You okay?". 

"Baby," Eddie sighed, lifting himself up to look at your face, "that was the best," he grinned. 

You giggled, more of the physical sensations of post sex coming back to you. An ache in your hips, a stretch between your thighs, and warm wetness on your thighs. 

"It was good," you agreed. 

"I think we should always have sex when there's a thunderstorm," he said sleepily as he moved, withdrawing his softening cock from you and flopping down beside, patting a spot on his chest where he wanted you to put your head. 

You wriggled toward him and placed your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around your body and the two of you kissed deeply. 

"I feel like we just conceived the anti-Christ or something," you said with a giggle. 

Eddie scoffed and shook his head. 

"Don't even joke," he replied, kissing the top of your head tenderly. 

The rain seemed to be slowing and the rumbles of thunder sounded further away, the storm seemed to be rolling on, maybe waking up other young lovers as it went. 

Eddie dropped off to sleep after a few minutes, his body and mind completely relaxed and satisfied. You stayed awake a little longer, the day was getting lighter by the second and Eddie's features were being revealed to you in glorious golden morning hues. You were contemplating how much he looked like an angel from a painting when you dropped off to sleep yourself. 

The two of you woke up a second time when Wayne came home from his shift with paper bags of hot and greasy breakfast food. The three of you sat around the small table and ate. Wayne was tired from his shift and you and Eddie were dozy from being up half the night enjoying each other's bodies. The day after the storm was cooler, the air fresher. The plants seemed to be greener and the sky bluer and even the people seemed more friendly, Eddie's usually sullen neighbour greeting you when you stepped out of the trailer to find your rain soaked sneakers. 

Eddie brought his guitar out that day and he sat beside you on the same sun lounger and strummed chords, humming tunes and making up nonsense songs. Songs about his D&D campaign, songs about summer, songs about love, and one about passionate nights while lightning splits the sky. 

Hearing him recount the night before in his deep, rich singing voice sent shivers down your spine. 

"You're not sharing that one with the band are you?" You asked as he came up with a lyric about how the sound of the thunder was second to the sounds you make when he’s inside you.

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. 

"This one's just for you and me baby,".

[klintoris]

Jschlatt x Fem!Reader Smut

When I started streaming, I never thought it would get me to where I am today. That's how everyone thinks, no one truly fathoms the huge increase in followers when collaborating with a huge streamer. 

For me it was Jschlatt. 

-

“YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT”  Schlatt screamed over the call after I just murdered him in Minecraft again, stealing all of his things. “My bad” I cackle over the line, “toots’ you are so fucking lucky you live in another state” he threatens, “fuck does that mean???? Are you threatening me, big man?? I will clobber you.”, I hold my streaming camera and stare directly into it. there's a small silence before he speaks up, “Don't, don't look at me like that”, “Like what?” still making direct eye contact with the camera, “I’m-”. I cut him off “Anyway, while you weren't looking I blew up your dog.” I pull away from the camera. 

Eventually after multiple matches of bickering, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way to the airport. 

-

Schlatt was streaming, as planned. Ted was visiting and knew about my drop-in. 

I pull up to the house in the Uber, getting anxious I look at my phone, I have the stream pulled up to see what the boys are up to. I get out, and standing near the door I message Ted that I am here, I watch as he tells Schlatt he's going to the bathroom. Soon Ted comes and lets me in. “ok so, I'm going to go back up and in like 5-10 minutes come into the room”, I nod, setting my suitcase near the door, along with my bag. Ted closes the door behind me and walks up the stairs, I follow him up through the hallway near the door of Schlatts streaming room. Ted walks in and closes the door behind him, assuming to keep jambo and soup out. Contemplating my entrance, the 10-minute mark hits and I open the door without my body in the doorway, schlatt and Ted both turn slowly to look at the door open. I walk into the doorway, as schlatt sees me and he turns to Ted speechless, “No fucking way”. he gets out of his chair, flinging it to the floor and throwing his hands on his head. “Hey, monkey man!!” I gloat and open my arms for a hug, “no no no how did you get here,” he says, obviously joking. “A plane, how else,” I say bringing my arms down, “aren't you excited??” I look at him, and he sighs “Only a little” he cracks a small smile. 

-

“Alrighty big man, I gotta head out,” I say after we've been streaming for over 3-4 hours.

“What? Where are you going??” he questions me after ending the stream, I stretch “To my hotel?” I question his antics, “why not stay here? Why waste the money?” he says to me as he stares at my exhausted state.  “Schlatt you don't have a spare room, ted isn't even staying here” I stare at him in confusion glancing at Ted, “Sleepover!” Ted says from the hallway as he prepares to leave for his hotel. Schlatt looks at Ted and then me raising his eyebrows, “You're funny schlatt but where the hell would I sleep?” I cross my arms looking down at Schlatt in his rolly chair, “I have a bed, I can sleep on the floor like a gentleman”, “That's silly I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor in your own house.” I stare closely trying to see his reaction. “Well” he pauses for a second, I can hear Ted stop moving to listen intently, “we could always share a bed, it's a king so we have our own postal codes almost” he grins leaning back with his hands behind his head. I internally scream, I find Schlatt very attractive but to sleep in the same bed would probably kill me. I stare, thinking,  if I ever have a chance it would be now, “finnee” I cave. “there that's my girl!” he squeals like a little school girl, almost making me forget what he said. “Alrighty kids'm off” Ted speaking up from the doorway in a sing-songy voice pulls me away from my thoughts. “awwhh bye Uncle Ted,” I say hugging him, Schlatt gets up from his chair and says his goodbyes and looks at me “Okay where’ your bags?” schlatt turns to me, the doors shut downstairs as ted leaves, “by the door but I can get them its fine”. “Alright if you insist on lugging a suitcase up the stairs, knowing you it's probably heavy too, be my guest.” I sigh, “Fine, Mr. Schlatt, could you please carry my bags up to your room for me pretty please” I blink rapidly looking up at the tall man with my hands clasped as I swayed, “perhaps.”.

-

Crawling into the bed after doing all of my nightly routines, it's rather fucking cold. I shiver as I regret the choice of clothing, shorts and a t-shirt, only if I knew schlatt kept his room at arctic level cold. “Everything alright toots’?” he looks at me, realizing he's wearing the grey sweatpants girls fawn over, I groan “Nothin’”, he shrugs and climbs under the covers far away from me. I shiver as my teeth start to clatter, almost nothing is helping, not even Schlatts thick blankets. “You sure you’re alright?” he asks from across the bed,  “Why is it so cold in here?” he chuckles as I feel the bed shift, as the bed creaks I feel schlatt pull me up against him, “there you can be warm now,” he says sliding a hand around my waist. Almost on cue, a shiver ran up my spine and my ass pushed into his dick, I froze in position after hearing him grunt. “what was that?” he says in a low voice, “not a clue” I manage to let out trying to sound as if I don't have a massive lady boner right now.

I try to shift to get comfortable, along with try not to push into him again, I graze his cock again. He holds my hips, “If you keep doing that I swear” Wanting to push his limit I speak out without thinking, “You will do what?”, there's a pause before I grind intentionally this time against him. He groans, he slides his hand from my hips to lower, his hand above my pussy, I breathe heavily anticipating his next move. He glides his hand down again cupping my clothed heat, I breathe in, sucking all the air in my lungs. Schlatt puts his head in the crook of my neck, he proceeds to start kissing and nipping at my neck slowly as he starts to practically massage my clothed pussy. I moan out, still lying on my side I turn to face schlatt, staring at him I look at his lips as he does the same. We pull each other into a heated kiss. He moves his hand from in between my thighs and gets on top of me. He lays in between my thighs, grabbing at my chest as his big hands roam around my body almost claiming it. I groan into the kiss as I feel his cock grind up against my covered pussy, schlatt notices this and grinds into me more, still gripping my chest.

He moves his lips from mine to my neck again, his mutton chops tickling at my neck as he sucks and bites at my sensitive area. “Fuck schlatt, please” I plead, not even sure of what I'm asking for.

“What is it princess?” he pulls away from my neck to look at me, “you want me to fuck that pussy of yours? Hm?” he taunts almost pouting at my state. Nodding eagerly he speaks up, “Use your words, what happened to that loud mouth of yours?”, “Please, please fuck, fuck me schlatt”. “That's it” he bellows as leans back as he practically rips my shorts down my legs, seeing the wet spot on my pink lace panties he teases me, not just with his words but his finger, grazing the spot as he says “she’s practically drooling for me, huh toots’”. I try to squirm away from him toying with my bud, but he grabs my hips and slowly hooks his finger on my panties pulling the skimpy article to the side leaning down and giving it a long lick.

He pulls away licking his lips, “She tastes almost as pretty as she looks” I moan in response, wanting to beg again he pulls his shirt over his head. I revel in the patch of chest hair before looking at his hands pulling his sweats off, I inhale sharply before he leans back down to kiss me, taking my shirt off during the kiss he breaks to look at my tits. “Fuck princess why were you hiding these from me”, schlatt starts to lick and suck at my right nipple while kneading the other tit, attempting to give them equal attention. At this point, I love the foreplay, though, the anticipation is killing me. I whine at the contact, “Please schlatt” I beckon pulling at his hair, he pulls away from my tits, “Fine fine”. Schlatt pulls back, taking my panties off he throws them somewhere behind him, attempting to close my legs he slaps them open. Schlatt takes his boxers off, and as his cock hits his stomach, the fear of god strikes me. It would be assumed schlatt would have a huge dick but I feel like ill be the next Mr. Hands. Schlatt resumes his position in between my thighs, moving his hands from beside my waist to guide his cock to my entrance, teasing it slowly before sticking the tip in. “shit, you're already so tight”, I moan a little in pain at the expected stretch, eager for him to put all of his cock in I buck my hips, he grabs my hips, almost enough to bruise them.

“M’ tryin' to hold back toots’ you aren't helping my case” he grumbles, “What if I do not want you to hold back?” I say not even thinking, he looks back and forth between both of my eyes for a second before shoving his whole cock in. I gasp at the stretch, and he begins to thrust at a normal pace, “f fuck schlatt” I suck in through my teeth before throwing my head back, “more please” I bring my head back looking at him. He's so focused on my reactions to him that he doesn't comprehend what I say until he pulls all the way back out and slams back in, his balls hitting the back of my ass hard.

“Holy shit,” he says before grabbing at my hips, leaning back on his feet he uses the fat from my hips to yank my body back onto his cock. “Oh my god”, I say clawing at his hands holding my hips, “he can't help you right now princess” he states after chuckling and then groaning. Schlatt slaps at my tits before grabbing at my neck, now using it as leverage along with my hip still, slamming me onto his cock.

As he pounds into me he makes eye contact with me before reaching down to my clit with the hand that was on my neck, rubbing at the bundle of nerves I go to throw my head back.

“Don't you fucking dare, I want you to look at me when you cum on my cock with that pretty pussy” he says through gritted teeth. I whimper at his words feeling white hot pleasure start to build up, “please please please please” I beg, “come on pretty girl let it out” as he fucks the spot in me that many have had trouble finding. “I'm, ah” I cum, and I cum hard, “That's it, that's my girl”, but he still keeps going. Not stopping. “Schlatt” I manage to get out between moans, “I'm not done with you yet”, flipping me onto my stomach he lifts my hips as he pushes himself back in. “oh my fucking-” I get cut off when he starts slamming into me again, slapping my ass roughly he holds the fat on my hips again, leaving bruises. “She takes me so well princess” I whine, starting to drool from over-stimulation before he yanks my head by my hair pulling me flush against his body.

He grabs my waist, and snakes a hand down back to my clit, “schlatt I can't, I can't”, “Yes you fucking can”, I clench on his cock as my second orgasm builds up. “F- fuck” he moans out, “cum with me pretty girl”. I moan at his words as I feel his cock twitch in me, clenching down I cum and fall against the bed. He whimpers noises I never thought I'd hear from his mouth, “Take all of it, good girl, gon’ fill you up s’ nice”, I feel him paint my walls white as he slows to a hilt. He pulls out as liquid gushes out of my abused hole, “gotta get you cleaned toots’” he says out of breath. 

this is my first post AHHHHH!!! let me know if you guys enjoy and if you want more!!

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | baby special

Yoongi spends time with your daughter 💜

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi, dad!Yoongi, married!au → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack and so much fucking fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 3.5k → Warnings (explicit): this is just pure fluff, so nothing smutty in this one! But there’s mention of pussy, if that is a warning? I swear, it’s just funny, sweet and lovely 🥹 it's written completely in Yoongi's pov, just because... you'll see 💜 → Author’s note(1): the last extra for friendcation that I’ve planned 🥳 I don’t think I’ll write more for this series/couple so please consider this officially completed (but you never know, lol). But I really don’t know what more I could add to this. I hope you enjoy this one too! 💜 And thank you all so fucking much; thank you for reading, commenting, reviewing, reblogging—everything means so much to me, you truly don’t know. Knowing what you think, and that you like reading my stories matters a lot to me, and essentially that is what keeps me going (especially when I’m struggling). So thank you 🫂 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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The gentle patter of tiny feet echoes through his dreams, a soft cadence pulling him from the depths of sleep. Not fully awake, yet not entirely asleep, he hovers on the fragile edge of consciousness. The sound of those footsteps—familiar, beloved—grows louder, closer, until a tender warmth touches his cheek.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wakey, wakey!” Mee-Yon’s voice bursts with joy, her excitement bubbling over as she bounces on the balls of her feet, her laughter a melody that could rouse the sun itself. 

He groans, stretching the stiffness from his body as the couch protests beneath him. Slowly, he opens his eyes, and there she is—his daughter, beaming down at him with a grin so pure it melts away any lingering weariness. How could he be upset when faced with such a sight? That tiny, radiant face is too full of life, too full of love.

“Hm?” he groans again, as Mee-Yon’s tiny fingers press against his cheeks, her eyes wide and insistent, sparkling with the boundless energy only a three-year-old could possess. She bounces still, a little ball of endless enthusiasm, and he marvels at how so much vigor can be contained in such a small body.

“Uncle Minnie is here,” she announces, her voice dropping just slightly, though no less vibrant, as if she’s sharing a grand secret. Her eyes shine with excitement, practically glittering—no, bursting with rainbows, if only this were a cartoon. And in this moment, he thinks, maybe he’s been watching too many cartoons lately, breathing in too much of that magic.

“He is?” he murmurs, running a hand through his dark hair, now cropped shorter than usual—a change he knows you’ll notice. He remembers how you prefer it longer, but for now, this is how it is.

“Mhm,” Mee-Yon confirms with a dramatic little stance, hands on her hips. That flair for the dramatic—definitely not something she got from him. Him, dramatic? Never.

He chuckles, gently patting her head, his fingers tracing through her soft hair that hasn’t yet been tamed into the neat bun she usually wears. Should he tie it up? He hesitates, knowing she’ll just pull it out moments after he’s finished.

Looking up, he sees Jimin standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his face as he watches Mee-Yon with an adoration so profound it almost makes the room glow. Jimin, the ever-dedicated godfather, has taken his role to heart, showering her with a love so abundant it spills over, warming the whole house. He spoils her endlessly, and though he’d never admit it, he’s grateful for it. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. It’s love, in its purest form.

“MINNIE!” Mee-Yon cries out, spinning on her heel to race toward Jimin, arms flung wide. He scoops her up effortlessly, lifting her high into the air, the room filling with the sound of her gleeful giggles and his playful airplane noises. As his arms tire, he lowers her gently to the ground, and she wraps herself around his legs, claiming him with a possessive “Mine.”

Jimin grins, glancing over at him. “I see she’s as possessive as you,” he teases, and Yoongi responds with a playful scoff, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. But deep down, his heart swells, knowing these moments—these precious, fleeting moments—are what make everything worthwhile.

He rises from the couch, stretching the remnants of sleep from his limbs, and finally, the sweet, intoxicating aroma of dinner weaves its way to him, causing his stomach to rumble in anticipation. The scent is warm, rich, filled with love, and it beckons him forward like a siren’s call.

As he moves past Mee-Yon and Jimin, their laughter like a soft melody in the background, he follows the trail of that delicious fragrance into the kitchen. There you are, immersed in the ritual of cooking, your focus entirely on the simmering pans before you. You’re making dinner—far more than necessary, as always, though tonight it’s just you, Yoongi, Jimin, and little Mee-Yon. But since becoming a mother, you’ve taken to preparing meals that last for days, an act of foresight that saves time and allows for more precious moments together. He loves this about you, this quiet efficiency that carves out more space for family, more time to bask in the warmth of togetherness.

You haven’t noticed him yet, lost in the rhythm of your work, the soft sizzle of the stove and the gentle clatter of utensils. He knows better than to startle you, aware of the way you lose yourself in the dance of cooking. So he deliberately makes his steps audible, the floor creaking underfoot as he approaches. “Smells nice,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he slides his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yoon,” you sigh, your voice dripping with affection as you lean into him, and he presses a tender kiss to the curve of your ear. He can feel you melt under his touch, the way your body instinctively relaxes into his, a soft giggle escaping your lips—music to his ears. He lives for these sounds, the small, intimate noises you make, even the ones in your sleep that pull him from his dreams but awaken something else within him, something that fills him with love and desire.

His fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, lifting the edge of your blouse to feel the warmth of you beneath his hands. His calloused fingers draw circles, savoring the softness of your flesh. You moan softly, your body swaying slightly as if moved by an invisible melody, a song only the two of you can hear. His hands drift lower, brushing your hip, pausing as if savoring the moment.

“Dinner! Dinner!” Mee-Yon’s excited shout rings out behind you, shattering the tender moment with her boundless energy. He can’t help but chuckle as he turns to see her cradled in Jimin’s arms, her little face glowing with joy.

“You know she can walk, right?” he teases, grinning at the pair of them.

“Yeah, but this is more fun,” Jimin replies, bouncing her gently, drawing out another round of her infectious laughter.

“You’re spoiling her too much,” you chide playfully, turning off the stove and casting Jimin a mock death stare, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I have to stay her favorite uncle,” Jimin retorts with a carefree shrug, his smile widening as he carries Mee-Yon over to the table, already set and waiting. Mee-Yon giggles, sticking her tongue out at you, and in that moment, the room is filled with warmth—a perfect snapshot of love, laughter, and family.

Yoongi can’t help but smile, knowing that none of your other friends stand a chance at becoming Mee-Yon’s favorite—not with the way Jimin spoils her, showering her with endless affection. There’s something special between them, an unspoken bond that binds them closer than the rest. Mee-Yon seems to naturally gravitate toward Jimin, drawn to his playful spirit and gentle heart.

Of course, she enjoys the company of the others too. She adores playing with Seokjin’s kids and his wife, their home a haven of laughter and warmth. Jungkook, with his eternal boyishness, is always ready to dive into whatever adventure Mee-Yon dreams up, his energy a perfect match for her wild imagination. She lights up when Namjoon reads her stories, his deep voice weaving tales that captivate her young mind. Once, when Namjoon’s girlfriend was over, her belly round with the promise of new life, Mee-Yon innocently asked how babies were made. Yoongi was relieved not to be on the receiving end of that question, watching with a mix of amusement and sympathy as Namjoon fumbled for the right words—balancing truth with tact.

Then there’s Taehyung, who spoils her with gifts from his travels as a photographer, bringing the world to her in the form of exotic trinkets and stories that transport her to far-off lands. Each friend brings something unique into Mee-Yon’s life, and while they all have their place in her heart, it’s Jimin who holds the brightest spot.

“Dinner’s ready,” you call out, wiping the sheen of sweat from your brow, a testament to the steam rising from the pots on the stove. The meal is a labor of love, and as you all gather around the table, it’s no surprise that Mee-Yon instinctively takes her place next to Jimin.

The first bite is met with murmurs of approval. “It’s so good,” Jimin exclaims, and Yoongi nods in agreement, his eyes catching the soft blush that spreads across your cheeks. He knows how you are with compliments, especially about cooking—something you usually leave to him. But tonight, you’ve outdone yourself, and it’s clear that your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Then, out of nowhere, Mee-Yon’s small voice cuts through the comfortable silence like a bolt of lightning. “Vagina!” she shouts, slamming her tiny hands on the table for emphasis. “Vagina!” 

All eyes snap to her in stunned disbelief, the room frozen in a moment that feels suspended in time. Yoongi isn’t sure if he heard his daughter correctly, but as she repeats the word with gleeful abandon, there’s no mistaking it. Your gaze darts frantically between Jimin and Yoongi, as if deciding who to unleash your wrath upon. Fortunately, Jimin ends up as the target.

“What the fuck did you teach my daughter?” you demand, your voice trembling with incredulity and a hint of anger. Yoongi, relieved not to be in the line of fire, watches as Jimin blinks back at you, utterly bewildered.

“What?” Jimin stammers, shaking his head in denial. “I didn’t teach her that! She must have picked it up at daycare,” he says, his tone calm but defensive, trying to deflect the blame.

Yoongi, ever the realist, can’t help but let a remark slip, one that’s more truth than tact. “Just be glad she didn’t say pussy.”

You sigh, a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance, realizing that he has a point. Better to let it go, not to give Mee-Yon’s newfound vocabulary too much attention. After all, the more focus you put on it, the more she’ll repeat it, and there’s no need to make a spectacle out of a word that, to her, is just another part of the world she’s discovering.

“Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!” Mee-Yon’s voice rings out with glee, her innocent delight filling the room as she proudly chants the forbidden word. Your stern gaze snaps to Yoongi, and in that instant, he knows he’s made fucked up. The realization hits him like a wave, and the weight of it is evident in his sheepish expression. “You taught her to say pussy. Why would you do that, Yoon?” you groan, frustration lacing your voice, a trace of self-doubt creeping in as you wonder if this makes you a bad mother. But Yoongi knows better—shit happens, and he reckons this isn’t the worst thing she could have picked up. After all, with the amount of time she spends with Jimin and Jungkook, he’s surprised this is the first explicit word to slip out.

“Peeing from my pussy!” she sing-songs with abandon, and you all groan in unison, only for the tension to break as laughter bubbles up, impossible to hold back. It’s bad, he knows it, but it’s also undeniably funny and, in a way, just a little bit cute. 

Mee-Yon soon loses interest in the word, her attention drifting as she begins to babble a stream of playful nonsense, her laughter joining yours in a chorus that fills the house with warmth. As the evening settles into a comfortable rhythm, Yoongi helps clean up while Jimin entertains Mee-Yon in the living room, the sound of their laughter echoing through the walls. He silently hopes Jimin isn’t teaching her any new vocabulary, knowing full well that the daycare likely isn’t to blame for this latest outburst.

Later, Jimin takes on the task of putting Mee-Yon to bed—a routine she seems to prefer whenever he’s around. Neither you nor Yoongi mind, as it offers you a rare moment of peace, a chance to sit together in quiet companionship while Jimin’s gentle voice carries through the door, reading her a bedtime story. When he emerges, his face softened by a tender smile, he bids you both goodnight and slips away into the night. It’s late, and Yoongi can’t help but curse the fatigue that overtook him earlier, leaving him to doze off on the couch. 

He’s been working more than usual lately, picking up the slack as you scale back your hours, determined to keep your finances steady. He doesn’t mind, knowing this is just a season of life, a phase that will pass. There may come a time when you’ll work more hours again, and he can step back. What he truly appreciates is the flexibility you both have in your work—his garage at home, a sanctuary where he can manage his own time, and your ability to work from home, offering you a reprieve from the relentless stress of your marketing job and the demands of your boss.

Tonight, though, you’re both too exhausted to stay up, even though the allure of a new K-drama tugs at your thoughts. Yoongi knows better—you’ll both likely fall asleep on the couch, and while it’s sleep, it’s not the restful kind. Better to retreat to the comfort of your bed, where real rest awaits.

So that’s what you do, slipping into a simple nighttime routine, brushing teeth, and taking care of your skin before crawling under the covers. Yoongi loves these moments, spooning you for the warmth and comfort it brings, not just for the obvious reasons but for the pure joy of being close to you. He nestles into your neck, breathing in your natural, sweet, and earthy scent—a fragrance that grounds him, that makes everything else fade away.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he’s jolted awake by Mee-Yon’s piercing scream. His heart races, the familiar surge of fear gripping him—always worried that something terrible has happened. But as he listens, he realizes it’s likely another night terror. With swift, practiced movements, he’s out of bed and crossing the short distance to her room, just opposite yours. 

The room is bathed in the soft glow of a unicorn night lamp, casting gentle shadows on the walls. The rest is cloaked in darkness, except for the faint hum of white noise playing in the background, a melody that usually soothes her into sleep and keeps her there through the night. But not tonight. Her screams persist, shrill and heart-wrenching, as he approaches her bed. She’s calling for you, her mother, her small body trembling in the dim light.

“Mom! Mom! Mommy!” Mee-Yon’s cries pierce the quiet night, her voice tinged with distress as her tiny body thrashes beneath the sheets. Her eyes remain tightly shut, yet it’s as if she’s caught in a battle with unseen phantoms, lost in the throes of a bad dream. Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight, a deep, primal need to protect his daughter surging within him. 

“Mee-Yon,” he whispers, his voice soft as a lullaby, “it’s okay, sweetheart.” But his words are like echoes in a canyon, powerless against the storm of her nightmare. She continues to scream, panic tightening her small frame, and Yoongi feels a pang of helplessness. He hates seeing her like this, hates that there’s nothing he can do but wait it out, knowing it’s just a part of her growth, an inevitable phase that will pass. Yet that knowledge doesn’t ease the knot in his chest.

He places a gentle hand on her stomach, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her frantic breaths. “Mee-Yon,” he calls out again, a bit more urgently, but she’s still far away, lost in the dark corners of her dream. Then, suddenly, she stirs, her tiny body moving in fits and starts until she sits up, her eyes still closed, arms reaching skyward as if begging to be held. 

“Mommy,” she whimpers, her voice a broken cry, and Yoongi’s heart twists in response. “It’s Dad,” he says softly, reaching for her, lifting her delicate frame into his arms. “I’m here. It’s okay.” 

“Daddy,” she murmurs, still caught between sleep and waking, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. For a moment, Yoongi just stands there, holding her close, unsure of what to do but knowing he can’t leave her alone. He knows the experts say it’s not ideal for her to sleep in their bed, but sometimes, practicality takes a back seat to love and the desperate need for rest. Nothing has ever gone wrong before, but there’s always a flicker of fear that lingers in the back of his mind, the thought that one of them might roll over her in their sleep. Thankfully, that has never happened, and they are super careful.

With gentle care, he carries her into your bedroom, placing her tenderly between the two of you. He tucks the duvet around her, ensuring she’s warm and secure, then arranges her favorite bunny plushie—Jungkook’s sweet gift—beside her. The tension in her small body slowly ebbs away, replaced by the soft, rhythmic sounds of her breathing as she finally begins to relax. Mee-Yon snuggles closer to him, her little form instinctively seeking his warmth, and Yoongi wraps an arm around her, holding her protectively, careful not to press too hard. Her heartbeat, still quick but steadying, pulses against his chest, and with that comforting rhythm, he drifts into sleep.

His dreams are light and whimsical—cotton candy clouds, pink skies, and the sensation of soaring on the back of a white and blue pegasus. But his slumber is interrupted by the sharp prod of a tiny foot to his face. With a groan, he tries to nudge the offending limb away, slowly opening his eyes to find Mee-Yon sprawled across the bed, her feet in his face and her small hands clutching your waist. Despite the rude awakening, Yoongi can’t be mad—how could he be, when his daughter is so undeniably adorable?

You catch his gaze, your hand gently caressing Mee-Yon’s back, and without a word, you communicate a world of emotion. Words aren’t needed between the two of you anymore; the years have woven a deep understanding, a silent language spoken through glances and touches. He reads you like a well-loved book, its spine softened by countless readings, and in your eyes, he sees the depth of your love for him and your daughter, the way you cherish these fleeting moments of family life.

As Mee-Yon stirs awake, she wraps her arms around both of you, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. Yoongi’s heart swells with joy, savoring this precious moment he wishes could last forever. Life with a three-year-old is a rollercoaster, equal parts delightful and exhausting. Yoongi’s patience, his temper, and his love are tested daily, but he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Mee-Yon has a knack for pushing his limits, as all children do, keeping him on his toes with her boundless energy and curiosity.

But it’s these moments he treasures the most—the time spent together as a family, whether on picnics, trips to the zoo, or simple walks in nature. Teaching Mee-Yon to ride a bike, watching her little legs pedal with determination, fills him with pride. He loves witnessing her growth, her wit, and her ever-present cuteness. There’s never enough time to soak it all in.

On a crisp autumn day, Yoongi finds himself in the garage, working on a customer’s car, with Mee-Yon by his side. She loves being there with him, her curiosity as vast as the sky, her eyes wide with wonder at the sight of tools and car parts. He explains everything to her, pointing out the coils, tubes, and wheels that make the car run. His hands are stained with oil, but Mee-Yon doesn’t mind; she grabs his hand, her own tiny fingers getting smudged as she points at something.

“What’s this, Dad?” she asks, her voice full of earnest curiosity.

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s the battery,” he explains, “the heart that keeps the car alive.”

She hums thoughtfully, turning her hand over to inspect the oily smudges. “Dirty,” she declares, but there’s no disgust, only fascination.

“Yeah, that’s oil,” he says, reaching for an old rag to wipe her hands, though it doesn’t do much to clean them. Maybe it’s time for some new rags in the garage.

“Like paint,” she giggles, her fingers now exploring every surface under the hood, leaving tiny handprints on every rube and rusty surface.

Yoongi chuckles, unable to resist her infectious joy. “Daddy?” she calls, looking up at him with a bright, mischievous smile.

He kneels down to her level, ruffling her hair with a fond laugh. She giggles and cups his cheeks with her small, oily hands. “Love you, Daddy. You my best friend.”

He doesn’t care that his face is now smudged with oil; he just pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her close. “I love you too, Mee-Yon,” he murmurs, his heart full to bursting.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for joining me on this wild ride that friendcation has been! And can you believe it’s been over a year since I first published this??? It’s so crazy. I’m so happy that so many people love it, and still read it. Truly, it means the world to me 🫂✨

[slightly-knot-insane]

The Bringer of Rain

Monstertober 2024 - day 2 [ Local folklore ] by @ozzgin

[ m!zmaj* x fem!reader ]

*The closest translation for 'zmaj' would be 'dragon', and they are generally similar in many ways. However, Slavic zmaj has no connections to fire or gold like Western ones. Zmaj is connected to storms and rain, and they are quite fond of people. More info about them after the story.

You've been with him for days. Or was it weeks? You aren't really sure anymore. Days have melted into short moments of sleep, drowsy periods of wakefulness, and intense hours of sex and orgasms.

You are tired. Your body aches for rest and relaxation, but you can't get enough of him. You expect him every moment to come to your room, sneaking in through windows, underneath door gaps, through cracks in walls. He always takes human shape, and appears in front of you naked and hard.

"I had to see you," he says this every time he lays his radiating eyes on you. His arms are already all over you. He seems so desperate, so parched, as if he hasn't seen your for months. "I must have you again."

And he does - oh-so-hard. His stamina is incredible. He can pound your every hole for hours, holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He's not supposed to be spending this much time with you. He is supposed to gather clouds and bring fertalizing rain to the fields and farms. But all his been doing was fertilizing your eggs.

He lifts your leg on his shoulder and kisses your knee before starting to roll his hips. Zmaj's cock is large and thick, heavily ribbed. His breaths are shallow, even and collected, while you are panting, almost gasping for air, inches away from another climax.

"Shh, be quiet, my dove." His voice is calm, but there is a hint of panic.

Loud banging on the door interrupts you. "We know he's here, that zmaj-whore!" Your uncle's voice is on verge of screaming. "Untangle yourself from him so that we can talk some senses to him."

"Shit!" Zmaj grabs you and presses you against his chest, sheltering you from something. A strange feeling washes over you and you're plummeted into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you are outside, somewhere far away from your home, but you can't see a lot since it's dark and the sky is sprinkled with stars. And all around you lays a massive presence.

"My love," zmaj whispers, and embraces you with his claws. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all. I'm so happy to see your true form." An impressive adult zmaj is glowing with a dim silver light, encircling you like a tight ouroboros.

"It was the only way to escape a nasty fight. And I needed my wings."

You shake your head. "I know. You are magnificent."

He chuckles. "I'm happy you think so. But I should return you to—"

You abruptly stand up and hold his snout. "Return me? Before saying a proper goodbye? I could never forgive you."

Zmaj blinks in confusion. "Oh. I'm sorry. Of course I would never just—"

How is this magical creature so incredible, yet so dumb. "I want you to fuck me with a proper zmaj cock, you dumb-dumb."

"Oooooooh." His long exhale was like a warm breeze and your hair billows. With a wink of his snake-like eye, he rolls over on his side. A long and pulsating silver cock is already hard for you, too heavy to stand upwards. "Come here, my sweet sparrow."

Your zmaj boyfriend is more than patient. His cooing and kisses helped you relax, and his thick tongue stretched your pussy out, and kept you moist. His saliva was warm and slick. Slowly, easily, with your permission, he slides his dick in. It is so big that it immediately inflates your stomach, and a faint glow lights your skin. He puts his hand around your waist to support you, and he lets you take his length in your own pace. He only growls and praises your bravery for wanting to try out his true form.

All you can do is moan and pant, barely coherent, as his ribbed phallus rubs against your walls. Your cunt has never been this full and this moist. "Fuck... yes... please... more..."

"You like this? You like my true form?" He shifts behind you and there is a feral change in his voice. You just whine and confirm in some pathetic way, before he takes charge and pushes his cock as far as it can go and growls, no longer verbal.

The sensation of his monstrous cock thrusting in and out, his loud breathing and smell of his sweat drive you crazy. You orgasm several times and so intensely that you eventually lose awareness and simply drown in pleasure.

When you open your eyes next time, waking up from a refreshing dream, the sun is rising. You are on your home's roof. But it wasn't the pink sky or uncomfortable ground that woke you up, but heavy drops of rain. You smile and pat your stomach swollen and heavy from zmaj's seed.

Zmaj monsters could, of course, be male or female, and they enjoyed taking human lovers. Sometimes, they would have sex with a new lover so much and often they would forget to bring rain. The angry villagers, whose crops were dying from drought, would then look for a human that looked the most ill and thin (since that would indicate they were exhausted from so much good zmaj sex). Then, the villagers would bang with pots around the lover's house to scare the zmaj back to work. Unfortunately for the poor zmaj's lover, zmaj would leave and they would never find another partner as good as zmaj was. Sometimes zmaj monsters and people would have children and they were called zmajevit. They were super strong and considered heroes (from Serbian mythology).

[roosterforme]

How Old Are You? | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob only gets one birthday every four years. When his wife, Molly, realizes it's almost Leap Day, she throws him a party any nine year old would love. And it's the perfect celebration for a thirty-six year old, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, implied smut, 18+

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC!Molly (this story accompanies The Curveball)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob was half asleep in bed, post orgasm, when the weird conversation started. "So technically you're about to turn nine? Even though you'll be thirty-six? Is that right?"

He cracked his eyes open again as he watched his wife stretch her arms above her head, her nipple piercings glinting in the soft candlelight that had their bedroom aglow. She was nibbling on her lip, and he could practically see her mind working.

"Yeah," he answered cautiously. "Why do you have that expression on your face, Mo? Like you're plotting something scary?"

"I've never plotted something scary a day in my life!" she told him before leaning down and gently biting his bicep. "I was merely considering what I should get you for your special day."

"I don't need anything," he replied quickly, remembering the naked cowboy statue wearing glasses that she gifted to him last year.

"Well," she said, drawing out the single syllable. "That's where I think you're wrong, Bobby."

"Molly, I don't even want anything." Then he had an idea that he hoped would throw her off. "How about you get some pretty new barbells or rings and let me play with them?"

She rolled her eyes. "That would be a gift for me."

He shrugged as she draped herself across him. "Kind of for both of us when you really think about it."

Her soft lips found his jaw as she whispered, "But it's not every day you turn nine, Coach Cute Glasses. You deserve an extra special treat."

He shook his head in exasperation and said, "I'll really be thirty six though."

"Not according to the calendar." She kissed him sweetly before climbing over him to get out of the bed. "I'll go check on Charlie and Flora one last time before we go to sleep." Bob watched her slip his discarded undershirt on and smooth it down over her gorgeous body, perhaps a little more filled out now that they had two kids.

He reached for her hand and said, "Mo, we really need to sell the condo and get a bigger place. They can't share that tiny room forever."

Even though she told him all the time that she loved the condo and didn't want to leave it, she was finally starting to come around. "I think I'm ready to admit that you might be right about that, Uncle Bob."

"Really?" he asked, jolting up in bed.

She nodded and hummed. "Yes. Besides, your birthday party would be a lot easier to plan if we had more space to accommodate all the guests."

Bob groaned and flopped back down again, and Molly removed his glasses for him. "I don't need a birthday party," he insisted. "I just want a nice, quiet evening with you and the kids. Maybe your sister, Ev and Bradley, too, but that's it."

"We'll see," she replied before leaving the bedroom with a wicked smirk on her face.

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

"Can you get to my sister's house by noon on your birthday? For your party?" Molly asked as she watched Bob feed a mashed up banana to their one year old daughter. 

"I thought we ended that discussion with us both accepting the fact that I do not need a birthday party."

"Yeah... it's too late for that," she replied easily as she and Charlie both ate their own dinners. Molly's favorite hobby was keeping her husband on his toes. She figured his life would be sad and boring without her in it, and since he chose to be with her, he must have a deep-seated love for nonsense. She always made sure to bring it out for him, especially for his birthday. 

He gave her a stern look. "It's just a small party, right?"

"Sure, Bobby."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh come on," she whined. "This is your first real birthday since we met!"

She knew he would crack. He gave her what she wanted the vast majority of the time anyway, but when she whined for something harmless, it was always hers. 

"Fine."

And with that single word, Molly executed the most epic ninth birthday anyone could ever have. She called the vendors. She ordered the piñata. She invited the guests. She procured a balloon arch. And on Bob's birthday, her own sister and brother-in-law were looking at her with shocked expressions from their back deck when she started setting things up at eight in the morning. 

"I thought this was going to be a small party?" Bradley asked as he watched her assemble the red and yellow balloon arch. 

Molly just laughed. "That's just what I told Bob. I lied. The pony should be arriving soon."

"Pony?" gasped her sister. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. Did you say a pony is arriving?"

"Yes," Molly said, speaking a little louder now to make her point. "How the hell are we supposed to have a cowboy birthday party without pony rides?"

Then Everett came tearing out onto the back deck, still in his pajamas, shouting, "Someone is bringing a horse around from the driveway!"

"See?" Molly asked as the pony and handler appeared in the backyard. "Ev is excited. He has good taste."

"He's ten!" Bradley snapped as he went running across the yard. "Is this thing going to tear up the grass that I spent months watering so it looked this nice?" But as soon as he saw how excited Everett was to pet the cute animal, Molly knew her brother-in-law would be on her side. It was just her sister glaring at her now.

"Whatever you mess up out here, you need to clean up. That includes the horse poop!"

"It's just a pony," Molly assured her, although the animal was a lot bigger than she expected. And yes, it was actually pooping. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

She was hoping it would be fine.

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

When Bob buckled Charlie and Flora back into their car seats in his truck at Myers park, he checked the time. It was almost noon. "Oh god," he groaned as he opened the driver's door. He had no idea what to expect, but the text from Bradley about how he was going to need help filling in the hoof prints in their yard next week had him on edge.

"Birthday party!" Charlie cheered from the backseat as Bob pulled out onto the main road. Molly had been talking about it so much, their son kept saying it over and over.

"That's right," Bob told him calmly. "But I'm pretty sure Mommy went bananas over the entire thing."

"Nana!" Flora crooned before she burst into tears. He should have known better than to mention her favorite food right in front of her like that. So he drove to his sister-in-law and brother-in-law's house with one delighted child and one who was crying hysterically. When he pulled down their block, there was absolutely nowhere to park, and there was a horse trailer parked right in front of the house. 

"Oh, no. No no no. Molly, no," he whispered. When he got closer, he saw the massive banner hanging on the porch that said Happy Birthday, Cowboy Bob. He had to squeeze his truck into the driveway behind the familiar blue Bronco while he gaped at the sight before him.

"Horse!" Charlie screeched. He wasn't wrong. There was some sort of pony walking around the backyard with Everett perched on top of the saddle wearing a cowboy hat. "I want the horse!"

"Okay," Bob told him as he shook his head and climbed out of the truck. He walked around to the back of the house with one child in each arm, and thankfully when Flora saw the pony, she stopped crying, perhaps out of fear. 

"Bob!" Molly shouted over the classic country music that was playing as she popped out of the enormous rodeo themed bounce house and ran to him. Literally everyone he'd ever seen in his life seemed to be here, and they were all wearing cowboy hats. Everyone from work was here. Like everyone. Cyclone was wearing a cowboy hat and drinking a beer. Bob thought he saw the doctor that Molly worked with who delivered both of their children. His parents and both of his sisters were here. His niece Piper was taking a turn riding the pony. There were indeed hoof prints in the yard.

Then Molly was somehow in his arms along with both kids, and she was kissing his neck as she said, "Happy birthday," in a voice that would have been a lot more appropriate for their bedroom. 

"Mo," he said, shaking his head. "There's a pony. It's making Bradley look constipated." 

She just rolled her eyes in response. "He'll get over it as soon as I offer to watch Everett for a few days over spring break so he and my sister can go away and do nasty stuff to each other."

Bob just smiled down at her and said, "You told me this would be a small affair."

"I guess I lied. Oops. Come say hi to Phoenix." She dragged him up onto the deck where Natasha took both kids from him with a kiss to his cheek, and then Molly was yanking his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked, standing there in his undershirt with his glasses askew. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, she was pulling another shirt over his head. It said Birthday Cowboy, and there was a number 9 that looked like it was shaped out of rope.

And that's when everyone started hugging him and running around to get him drinks and chat with him. Mickey was wearing cowboy boots and a cow print vest. Maverick was teaching the kids how to line dance. Bradley's scowl had started to ease up since Everett seemed to be having the time of his life. 

"Happy birthday, Uncle Bob," Everett said when he walked over. He hugged Bob and added, "Your birthday party is my favorite birthday party ever, and I can't believe it's in my yard!"

"Thanks, Ev," he replied with a laugh as he watched Molly and Flora dancing with Javy. "It is pretty cool."

"Happy birthday, Bob," his sister-in-law said, handing him a card. "You can open it later. We got you opening day tickets for the Padres. Also, I'm so sorry that my sister is so chaotic, but you should have known what you were getting into when you started dating her."

Bob accepted another kiss on his cheek. "She really can't be stopped once she gets going." 

"It's a waste of time to even try. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show."

He did, and the looser he got, the more fun he started to have. He pet the pony while Piper rode around on it. He smashed open a cowboy piñata with one of Everett's baseball bats. He jumped in the bounce house with Charlie and Everett, and Bradley even joined them.

"I'll help you fix your yard next week," Bob promised as Everett did a backflip. 

Bradley just laughed and said, "It's hard to be mad about it when Molly just wants everyone to have the time of their life. You're very lucky. Also, I don't know how you deal with her on a daily basis."

Bob laughed, too. "Sometimes I just take it one hour at a time."

"Get ready for cake!" Molly shouted, and it took five people to carry out the biggest sheet cake he'd ever seen in his life. It was cow print and decorated with boots and spurs, and said Happy 9th Birthday, Cowboy Bob!

After he blew out the nine candles he reached for Molly. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her softly. "I didn't know I needed a ninth birthday party, but I guess I really did."

"You're only a kid once, Bobby," she replied, smiling against his lips.

"You do know I'm actually thirty-six, right?" he asked, pulling her snug against him as her sister started to cut up the cake. 

"Not according to the calendar," she responded, patting him gently on the cheek. "Your mom and I had a lovely conversation about how terrible you look for your age."

He tried not to smile, but it was useless. "I'm actually having the best day, Mo."

"I knew it all along."

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

Both kids were sound asleep as soon as Molly tucked them into bed. Charlie went on a sugar high and then crashed, and Flora was played with and held by seemingly everyone at the party. They would probably sleep for a solid twelve hours. Which was good, because Molly wanted to give her husband the rest of his birthday presents. 

She found him in their bedroom where he was opening up the cards he got with a soft smile on his face. "You have so many friends," she told him, and he turned to look at her. "Everyone loves Bob Floyd."

He actually blushed which made her want to rip all of his clothing to shreds and have her way with him. He shook his head slightly and said, "Everyone loves the amazing Molly Floyd and her beautiful imagination."

"Bobby," she moaned softly, taking the card from his hand and wrapping her arms around him. "Tell me more about how amazing I am."

He laughed and whispered, "You threw me the equivalent of a kids' ninth birthday party, just because you could. My dad participated in the pie eating contest. My mom learned how to line dance. Bradley almost popped a vein in his forehead. It was wonderful."

She sighed in contentment. "In four more years when you turn ten, we'll be in a bigger house, and we can host your party there. But we'll have to wait and see if you're still into cowboys or if your interests change, Kiddo. Now will you please open your present from me? And put on your cowboy hat? I've always wanted to suck a real cowboy's cock."

Bob grinned. "Molly, you suck my cock when I'm wearing my cowboy hat all the time."

"But you've never had assless chaps before."

Bob let out a strangled sound, and when he opened the box that was wrapped in cowboy paper, there were in fact assless chaps inside. "Please, please, please put them on," Molly moaned. "God, I feel like it's my birthday."

As soon as she started whining, he always gave her what she wanted. It was impossible not to. Five minutes later, Bob was standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing the chaps, his birthday shirt, and his old cowboy hat. Molly was panting and biting her knuckle, already obviously raring to go down on him, which just made him harder.

But she took a step toward him and then stopped, a devilish smirk on his face. "Now wait. I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma with you in that shirt. How old are you again?"

"I'm thirty-six," he replied blandly. 

"You sure about that, Cowboy Bob?"

"Molly! I'm thirty-six!"

"Okay, okay. Just checking," she said, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. "But let's just remove this anyway."

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

I had a blast revisiting these two! I'm so deeply in love with Molly. I hope you enjoyed Bob's birthday celebration. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[edsbug]

I just realized I don’t think I've ever requested a fic from you and I'm???? appalled???? Please forgib 🥺🖤 I'd love to see how Eddie x reader deal with a big storm coming into Hawkins; currently holed up bc of Hurricane Beryl at the moment. 🌀🌩

hii steph!! i hope you made it through the hurricane alright. thank you so much for requesting this, it was so fun to write! i hope you like it<3

thunderstruck

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader.

summary: eddie and reader prepares for a storm. (wc. 1.1k)

contains: horror films, uncle wayne makes a cameo, pure fluff.

The first rumbles of thunder rolled through Hawkins as the sky darkened, heavy clouds gathering in an ominous, bruised mass. You looked out the window of Eddie's trailer, watching the branches of the old oak tree sway in the rising wind. Eddie sat at the small kitchen table, fiddling with a string on his acoustic guitar, his usual energetic demeanor subdued by the approaching storm.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping away from the window. “Need any help with that?”

Eddie looked up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nah, just trying to get this thing to stay in tune. But thanks baby.” He set the guitar aside and reached for your hand, pulling you gently into his lap.

As you settled against him, the first drops of rain began pounding the roof of the trailer. “Looks like we're in for a big one,” you remarked.

Eddie glanced up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Perfect night for a horror movie, don't you think?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You're impossible. But yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you spent the next hour fortifying the trailer for the incoming storm. Eddie found a stack of old towels and you helped him roll them up, pressing them against the bottoms of the doors to prevent any water from seeping in. You checked the windows, making sure they were securely latched, while Eddie double-checked the flashlights and gathered some candles and matches, just in case the power went out.

As you worked, the wind picked up, howling through the trees and rattling the metal siding of the trailer. The sky was almost black now, flashes of lightning illuminating the landscape in brief, eerie bursts.

You and Eddie settled on the worn-out couch, a stack of VHS tapes and snacks spread out on the coffee table in front of you. The opening credits of Nightmare on Elm Street had just started when the phone rang. Eddie jumped up, nearly tripping over the coffee table in his haste to answer it.

“Hello?” he said softly. “Oh, hey, Wayne.”

You could hear Wayne's voice faintly on the other end, his tone filled with concern. Eddie glanced at you, his expression softening.

“Yeah, we're okay. Just getting ready for the storm,” he said, his voice reassuring. “I've got everything under control. Don't worry about us.”

Wayne's voice rose slightly, and you could make out the words “stay safe” and “call me if you need anything.” Eddie nodded, even though his uncle couldn't see him.

“Thanks, Wayne. We'll be fine. You stay safe at work, okay? Yeah, talk to you later.”

Eddie hung up the phone and turned back to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “My uncle wanted to make sure we were alright. He's stuck at work until the storm passes.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at the concern in Wayne's voice. “That's sweet of him.”

“Yeah, he's a good guy,” Eddie said, plopping back down beside you. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Freddy Krueger.”

As the movie played, the storm raged outside, the sound of rain pounding against the thin roof and thunder cracking in the distance creating an eerie soundtrack. You and Eddie huddled together under a thick blanket, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. The flickering light from the TV cast strange shadows on the walls, adding to the spooky atmosphere.

Every now and then, the power would flicker, the screen going black for a few seconds before the backup generator kicked in. Each time, Eddie would squeeze your hand, his touch reassuring.

“I've got you, sweetheart” he'd whisper, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

As the last credits of Nightmare on Elm Street rolled off the screen, the exhaustion from the night caught up with both of you. Eddie's arm around your shoulders felt warm and comforting, and the rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful state. The flickering TV screen provided a gentle glow as you and Eddie drifted off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in the warm, thick blanket.

Outside, the storm continued to rumble, but it was a distant sound now, more soothing than threatening. The rain had lessened to a gentle drizzle, and the occasional flash of lightning was just a dim flicker on the horizon.

The first light of dawn seeped through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the drenched landscape. Wayne pulled his truck up by the trailer, the engine’s low rumble mixing with the distant sounds of birds starting their morning calls. He stepped out, stretching his tired limbs after a long shift, and glanced at the trailer. The sight of it standing unharmed brought a sense of relief.

Wayne quietly let himself in, careful not to make too much noise. He walked into the living room, a smile creeping onto his face as he saw the two of you on the couch.

Eddie's head was tilted back, mouth slightly open, one arm draped protectively around you. You were curled into his side, your head resting on his chest, the blanket cocooning you both. The TV was still on, a static-filled screen casting a dim light over the room.

Wayne shook his head fondly, moving to switch off the TV. The sudden silence was almost jarring, but neither of you stirred. He then picked up the empty snack bowls and soda cans, placing them quietly on the kitchen counter.

He stood for a moment, just watching the two of you sleep, a sense of pride and affection filling his chest. Eddie had always been a handful, but seeing him like this, so caring and protective, made Wayne’s heart swell.

When you woke up, it was to the smell of coffee and bacon. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing you were still on the couch, nestled against Eddie.

Eddie stirred next to you, his eyes fluttering open. He gave you a sleepy smile, his hair a wild mess. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, stretching. “I think your uncle's home.”

As if on cue, Wayne appeared, a mug of steaming coffee in hand. “Morning, kids,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Hope you two slept well.”

Eddie sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, we did. Thanks, Wayne.”

Wayne nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. “Good. There's breakfast in the kitchen. Figured you'd be hungry after a night like that.”

You and Eddie exchanged a grateful look before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

“Think it's safe to say we survived?” you asked, a teasing note in your voice.

Eddie chuckled, pulling you closer. “Survived Freddy Krueger and a thunderstorm. Not bad for a night in Hawkins.”

[fushigur0ll]

EARTH42! MILES BF HCS

꒰ ♡ ꒱- x black fem!reader

earth42!miles who loves you and cares for you so much other then his mom and uncle. he’s the best bf you can ask for as much as he looks so nonchalant and cold from the outside, he’s the most sweetest and romantic person on the inside.

earth42!miles swings by your house when he hasn’t seen you in at least a few hours to a few days or a week. he apologizes when he realizes that you’ve been neglected for a while and spends his time with you as much as he can before he heads back to deal with the world he and you both live in

one thing about earth42!miles is that he never forgets a date or special occasion. he can be busy, yes but he will never forget your birthday, anniversary or any other occasion. one time, it was your birthday, he had sent you money to go buy yourself whatever you wanted and when you were done, you came home with bags on your wrists, hair and nails done, and a cute outfit you had worn to go out. you had almost dropped your bags when you seen your bf standing in the middle of your room, with a bouquet of pink and purple flowers, gifts upon gifts on your bed with plushies and other cute stuff he would always see you stare at when you two would be out together as well as snacks that you assume you both will use in a bit to cuddle and watch movies. you put your bags down, frowning when feeling yourself tear up. he smiles at you softly putting the flowers down and widening his arms for you to walk into his chest, holding him tightly.

“happy birthday, ma”

you smile and feel his fingers tilt your head up to passionately lock lips, holding each other close as the atmosphere is perfectly set. the sky was orange and yellow with spots of red and purple even as the brightest star known as the sun sets down, it cracks through the curtains and widely shows from the balcony that was open from miles coming through that way inside your room. he slowly unlocks his lips from yours with his eyes still closed, the kiss lingering on his lips still. he pecks your lips once more before cupping your face and watching you stare at him softly.

“i love you”

you tear up at how soft you feel right now it’s unexplainable. he notices the tears building up in your eyes and chuckles, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks and under eye.

“my crybaby”

you scoff and roll your eyes playfully, placing your palms flat on his chest.

“i love you more baby..thank you for this, like really- i can’t even speak i’m just so happy” you smile and look at everything he’s got you.

“anything just to see you smile mami”

then for the rest of the evening, you both looked over the stuff he’s got then watched a bunch of movies you both enjoyed and ended the night in each others arms. you asleep with a small smile on your lips too with miles holding you close to him. your body was practically on him, one leg wrapped around his waist with your arms hugging his torso and head to his chest. he rubs the soft skin of your thigh as well as your arm as he stares at you just thinking about how happy he was to have someone like you with him in a world this hectic and a spider-verse so chaotic. he even thinks about marrying you one day but he knows he’ll have to wait till that day comes. his life was still crazy and will do anything to keep you out of it..well..he tried to but you found out anyway and ever since then he told you about anything that was bothering him or stressing him out as much as he didn’t want to put his burdens and issues on you but it felt extremely nice to have someone listen to him without judging him in any way and that’s one of many hundred reasons he’s so in love with you

earth42!miles who will take you out on dates that isn’t extravagant but simple and perfect for the both of you. picnic, park, and beach dates are something you hold near and dear to your heart. any date you go on with your boyfriend is always something to remember. as much as he doesn’t look like the type to take you out on dates, he doesn’t mind it at all. you both could be strolling through the park late at night, his arm around your shoulder as you talk about your day at school and work right after. he listens to everything you say and just loves it when you ramble, as much as he won’t confess that he does. you both can also be at the park, pushing you high on the swing and hearing you yelp, laugh and giggle. it’s his favourite thing in the world..but again…not like he’s gonna admit it to you but you see his small smile so he’s not that slick.

earth42!miles who will allow you to touch and braid his hair other then his mom. he sits on the floor with your legs on either side of him and your hands just work on his hair, taking out his braids.

“damn- baby my head is tender as it is” he groans and rubs the tender spot on his head

“oh, i’m sorry miles, i’ll be more gentle…and that means you need to oil your hair more boy” you scold him lightly, shaking your head when you hear him chuckle

“yes ma’am”

you help him wash, condition, shampoo his hair and when everything all done, you put his hair right back into his lovely braids and thanks you with a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips

“thank you ma”

all earth42!miles loves doing is spoiling you. you barley ask- let me rephrase, you don’t ask for him to take you shopping because he will just gladly take you on a random day out of the week at anytime. you always ask for his opinion because he does have good taste. he does enjoy moments like these with you and people would think he’s bored walking around the store with his girlfriend but really and truly, he loves going out with you and once again, he won’t admit it to you at all!!

lastly, earth42!miles loves you from the spider-verse and back. ever since he got with you, it’s made him happier then he was before. way before he met you, he was dealing with so much issues, responsibilities and burdens that was hard to take..but you’ve made it all better and made him hopeful for everyday to come with you by his side, showing how much he loves you everyday he sees your pretty self.

what can i say

earth42!miles is a nonchalant sucker in love

fushigur0ll © 2022 all rights reserved. do not plagarize, translate, or post to other sites please.

[yoonkinii]

Sukuna letting y♡u doll him up!

Warning(s): minor cursing Requests open (for this AU only) Masterlist (check for more AU content!) Note: I'm sorry this one is so short. I really wanted to post another chapter so you guys weren't waiting so long for the next update. (This snippet takes place after further into their relationship. Remember there is no order- they are just snippets.)

“This is stupid,” Sukuna grumbled from where he sat on the floor, legs crossed like he was back in elementary school.

Rolling your eyes, you grab his outstretched hand. “It is not stupid.  If it is, why did you agree?” 

“Lapse of judgment,” he muttered. 

Just then, the front door to Sukuna’s house opened, revealing a familiar pink-haired high schooler. “Uncle, I’m home.” Yuji rounded the corner to the living room, his face brightening when he spots you. “Oh! I didn’t know you were coming over today, y/n.”

You shrug, turning back to Sukuna after greeting Yuji. “It was unexpected.”

“More like you showed up at my doorstep, ” Sukuna added, his brows narrowed in mock annoyance. Wrinkling your nose teasingly at your boyfriend, you resumed inspecting his nails. “You shouldn’t have given me your address then,” you jeered. 

“I didn’t know you were  insane.” he muttered, clicking his tongue.

You looked at Sukuna through your lashes. His eyes followed your hands as they gently held his. Despite his grumbling and complaining, he sat perfectly still, letting you do whatever you wanted with his hands.

Dropping his backpack beside the couch, Yuji plopped down and curiously watched the two of you. His eyes flickered to the open pink bag beside you, spotting a nail file. He gasped and leaned forward to get a better look. 

“Are you doing his nails?” he asks. 

“Yes!” you answered enthusiastically. 

“No,” Sukuna interjected. 

You deadpanned, looking at Sukuna, but he didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he cast his narrowed eyes onto his nephew. You sighed, releasing Sukuna’s hand. He glanced at you, wondering why you let go. Turning to Yuji, you smiled,

“I can do yours, Yuji since your uncle seems to be very against me doing his.” 

Yuji beams, nodding his head furiously in agreement.

“Hell no.” Sukuna's deep voice cut through the happy atmosphere. 

Yuji whined, begging his uncle to let him get his nails done. Siding with Yuji, you also demanded answers from your boyfriend, claiming that he obviously didn’t want his nails done, so it should be okay for Yuji to get his done instead. 

“I don’t want her to touch your grubby hands.” Sukuna said, smirking. 

“Grubby hands?!” Yuji shrieks, his voice cracking slightly. “My hands are not grubby.” Yuji waves his hands in the air, almost as if he was showing the world his clean hands. 

“I live with you. I know you’re grubby.” Sukuna teased, a faint smile playing on his lips. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture poised with amusement. 

“Enough.” You interjected, cutting off the two males. They both look at you, their matching colored eyes meeting your irked expression. “Here is what we will do,” you begin, leaning back until your hands brush against the fabric of your tote bag. Grabbing the bag, you retrieve a slim green packet. “Since your uncle has suddenly had a change of heart,” you state, eyeing your boyfriend watching the frown form on his lips at the implication of your words. You knew full well he was jealous of the thought of you doting on Yuji instead of him. “You can use this.” You hold up the packet, watching Yuji take it and inspect it with a raised brow.

“It’s a face mask,” you inform him. Yujis mouth formed into an ‘O’ in recognition, his eyes once again beaming in delight. He jumps up from the couch before you can say anything else, exclaiming how he had heard about face masks from Nobora before he runs off to the bathroom.

Once again alone with Sukuna, you finally face the man. Holding out your palm, Sukuna grumbles but follows your silent demand, placing his hand in yours. Grabbing your nail file, you set to work, practicing the well known motions from doing your own nails. 

“You would think at 32 you would be more mature.”

“Watch it, brat.”

Giggling softly, you focused intently on his hands, unaware of Sukuna’s gaze fixed on your face. You don’t notice the way his eyes soften as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth in concentration or how you hunch over, completely immersed in your task. To him, it was an endearing sight, though he would rather die than admit that. 

“What color do you want? I only brought three, so you can only choose from those,” you chirped after filing his nails to your liking. Raising his brow, Sukuna eyed the options you presented. 

“What the hell are those?” he grits out, practically oozing annoyance. The three colors you offered were pink, yellow, and purple- shades Sukuna would never have chosen to wear, much less have painted on his nails. 

“What?” you drawled, feigning innocence. You knew exactly what you were doing when you grabbed these specific colors before leaving the house. Raising the bottles into his direct line of vision, you urge him to pick. “C’mon, c’mon, or I’ll pick for you, and trust me, I think this pink will match your hair perfectly.”

Cursing under his breath, Sukuna motions toward the purple polish, the darkest shade you had brought, closer to indigo. At that moment, Yuji returns, no longer in his school uniform but in comfortable house clothes. What caught your attention, though, was the tiger-eared headband keeping his hair out of his face as he wore the face mask. 

“Oh my God, Yuji! That’s so freaking cute!” You squealed.  Yuji sits on the couch, unresponsive, looking at you with a serious expression. Before you could ask what was wrong, he shoved his phone in your face, showing you a message on the screen.

‘I called Nobora. She said I can’t smile or talk with the mask on or else I’ll get wrinkles :( ‘

You couldn’t help but snort in amusement, wondering if Nobora actually believed that or just wanted to tease Yuji. You were certain it was the latter. Turning back to Sukuna, you resumed your work, meticulously cutting his cuticles, shaping his nails, and doing everything needed to make his hands look perfect. Much to Sukuna’s dismay, he was forced to stay in one sport the entire time you worked on him. 

It got to the point where Yuji turned on the TV, watching a random show, and even Sukuna began to watch as well. He had no idea who people enjoyed this- sitting in the same spot, working on such delicate things as nails. Time passed in silence as you focused on your task, allowing your boys to watch TV without interruption. Sukuna didn’t move an inch as you coated his nails in the deep purple nail polish. You were positive he hadn’t even realized you had already painted his nails; there was no other explanation for why you were getting away with what you were currently doing. 

A little over an hour passed before you finally finished. Yuji was now asleep on the couch, his face mask half-off as a result. Admiring your handiwork, you nudged Sukuna gently. He peeled his eyes away from the TV, his gaze slightly bloodshot from staring at the screen for so long. 

“I’m done,” you grinned. Sukuna arches an eyebrow and looks at his nails for the first time since you began. His face instantly fell, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a sneer. “What the hell is this?”

“Aren’t they cute?” you replied. 

“You put fucking… what are these?” He hissed, his voice dripping with incredulity. 

“They’re nail charms.” you say it so simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Each nail was adorned with a various Hello Kitty themed charm, a pink bow on both of his middle fingers. He couldn’t even recall when you had brought out the nail glue to do all this. 

“I’m going to kill you,” he snarls, lips curling back in distaste as he stares at his nails. 

“Sure, sure,” you reply, unfazed by his empty threats. Grabbing his hand, you take out your phone. “Now hold still. I want to take some pictures.”

Snapping  a few photos, you laugh to yourself in excitement as you review them. You were too busy admiring your work through the screen to notice Sukuna examining his nails more closely, cocking his head to the side in contemplation. Despite the initial shock, he had to admit they weren’t badly done at all. 

Bonus!!

“Um, Boss?” A nervous voice called out in the eerily silent office. The man tasked with assisting Sukuna with work documents shifted his weight from side to side, unsure of what to do. He had been talking to his boss for the past few minutes about the upcoming meeting, but it was clear that Sukuna was not listening. Sukuna’s focus was on his hands, specifically his nails. He watched the office lights glint off the charms, his thoughts entirely captivated by you. 

“You will have to come back later,” a female voice interjected, startling the man. Uraume, Sukuna’s personal assistant, now stood beside him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. She observed her boss with a blank expression, her eyes following Sukuna’s gaze to his hands. 

“It seems Mister Ryomen is preoccupied by staring at his girly nails.”

The male visibly shrinks in fear at Uraume’s words, which seemed to snap Sukuna out of his daze. His palms slammed against the desk in anger, a dangerous snarl on his lips. “Get the hell out before I rip out both your spines.”

“Yes, Sir,” Uraume replies calmly, exiting without another comment. The man hastily follows, terrified of what might happen if he were trapped in the office alone with his boss. Only after the office door was completely shut did Sukuna sit in his chair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering just how much of a lovesick idiot you make him. 

-

Tag List (open):@kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro

[lovlidollie]

ik you're in a kenji zone but I still can't get over Feyd soooooooooo

Feyd always expects you to come and paint him before he goes to arena. What would he do if you forgot to show up to paint him one day?

savage

pairing ; feyd x gn!reader

wc ; 1.2k

cw ; slightly gore-y description at the end

rating ; general audiences, perhaps slightly suggestive at the end ?

author’s note ; oh no don’t you worry !! feyd is still on my mind 24/7 :3 him and kenji are both my husbands ehehe also wtf this is such a good prompt i love the way your mind thinks ! i don’t particularly think this is very good but i hope you like it anyway 😞 not proof read ^^

feyd is uncharacteristically loud. usually he’s quiet, like a viper, sneaking up on you when you least expect it. he’s calculating and cold, likes to observe before making an important decision. before his fights he’s more often than not calm and collected (well as much as he can be anyway). he’s confident, he knows he’s going to win so what’s the point in worrying? this time however, he’s murderous. he’s yelling and breaking things. he’s barking orders at the maids, veins on his neck protruding dangerously. feyd’s eyes are narrowed in contempt, mere slits as they flit about the room almost in panic. he isn’t able to stay still, can’t look at the same place for more than a second.

the battle’s already been postponed by fifteen minutes and while the general public is too scared to push him, his uncle is not. it wouldn’t be long before the baron is floating down into the staging area, hissing orders and forcing him to get on with the show.

his heavy leather boots stomp against the ground, and he grunts. he’s given you the absolute honour of painting him before his fight and you simply decide to not show up? are you not aware of the hundreds that would die to be in your place? did you not know about the dozens he had to feed his harpies in order to keep them appeased?

“where is she.” feyd growls, low and furious. not a question, more so a threat. the maids tremble in a corner, trying not to look at him or at the three bloody bodies piled on the ground. they’d pushed him too far, tried to paint him when he’s made it clear that only you have his permission to do so. his blades were through their hearts before they even noticed what they did wrong.

like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, he doesn’t just walk into arena. no, the pre-battle painting is tradition. it’s important. and you not being here to do it for him is disrespectful. feyd is seething, teeth grinding together so hard it makes the maids flinch. the sparring knife he has in his hand cracks as the wood splinters. he grunts and throws it against the wall, shards of metal and hard wood ricocheting.

where. the fuck. were you. you never not showed up. feyd’s made sure of it, cleared out your schedule and ensured that you’d have the best guards on the harkonnen battalion to escort you. you always came.

the cries and screams of “feyd-rautha!” get louder and he feels his head pound. a headache begins to build at the base of his neck as the his adoring fans stomp harder. an animalistic noise is ripped from his throat and his eyes shutter close, neck rolling in an attempt to calm down. oh he was going to kill you. he was going to rip you apart. he was going to ruin you. he was going to-

the doors to the chamber fly open and there you are. there you fucking are. panting and struggling to catch your breath, your wide eyes zero in on him and you gulp, forcing stuffy air into your lungs. the hair on your arms stand up with static when you see the ferocious expression plastered on feyd’s face.

“i-” you try open your mouth to explain your absence but you can’t speak. he’s enraged, anger pulsing through his blood. feyd’s mouth presses into a tight line and he snarls at you. his teeth are blackened and he looks like a monster.

“quiet.” it’s harsh and a jarring difference from how he normally speaks to you. the room seems to buzz in silence. you shrink back. you have a reason for being late, you really do!

feyd stalks backwards, never taking his eyes off you and snatches the small carafe of thick, viscous liquid from a table. his gaze trails your figure slowly, checking you inconspicuously for injuries, trying to figure out what the fuck took you so long. he strides towards you and you fight the urge to spring back and runaway. you didn’t like him when he was like this. he was scary and vicious, a savage beast.

he glares at you as he thrusts the carafe into your chest, a silent order. you’re smart and say nothing, shaky fingers reaching out and taking it. feyd’s chest ripples when he turns around. he can’t look at you right now, doesn’t think he can stomach it before he’s roughing you up. you see the way his biceps flex with barely restrained rage.

you work quickly, already deeply aware of how far the fight’s been delayed. it isn’t your best. the lines are messy and crooked, splatters spread over the expanse of his wide back because of your trembling. he’s silent the whole time, taking in great heaving breaths. adrenaline is running through him, he’s itching for a fight. needs to feel blood against his skin and the roar of applause in his ears.

when you’re finished with his back you move in front of him. you’re shorter, barely reaching his shoulders. feyd grunts and you sense him roll his eyes. you work faster, dragging inky oil over his obliques and down his nipples. you barely restrain a shiver.

the second you mutter a soft “done,” and your fingers leave his chest, feyd rips himself away from you, shaking his head. he feels his heartbeat thundering and it’s making him restless. you think he’s a lot like a cornered animal right now.

he dresses quickly, throwing his armour on haphazardly. his chest plate is crooked but you don’t have the courage to say something. feyd marches down to the entrance to the arena, not even sparing you a second glance. he doesn’t bother with his dual blades. he’s after gore tonight, blood and guts and agony. you’re shaking, tears welling up in your eyes as you think of what he’ll do to you.

you sniffle just as he pauses at the door. a low, demeaning laugh leaves his lips, guttural and raspy. you shrink into yourself, feeling humiliated.

“chambers.” he mutters after silence takes over. the implications are clear. you are to meet in his chambers the second the fight is over, when no one else will be around to hear what he does to you. you start growing anxious, sweat beading on your forehead.

feyd doesn’t wait for a response before he’s walking through the doors, cheers overpoweringly loud. you don’t make your way to the stands, too afraid of what you’ll see.

(the fight is one of feyd’s longest. instead of playing around with them for a bit and then killing them almost instantaneously, he lets one of his opponents scamper to the edges of the arena while he deals with the other. feyd prances around him, like a leopard, toying with his prey. when he pounces, it’s with his mouth, teeth tearing into his carotid and ripping it out. he’s fuelled by pure anger and adrenaline, nails clawing at his rivals’ chest and face. feyd turns the first body into a mutilated, bloody mess, so destroyed that he’s barely recognisable. he makes the other opponent watch before stalking after him and doing the same. when he finally, after hours of battle, shows up at his chambers, he’s covered in blood and intestines. and there you are. pretty, innocent you, perched in his bed for him. oh, you were in for it.)