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mrsparkjimin18 · 1 year ago

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❄️Snowed In❄️

❄️ pairing: non-idol! neighbor jungkook x ofc

❄️ genre/au: angst, smut, annoying neighbor au

❄️ rating: M

❄️ wordcount: 10694

❄️ summary - Gabriella has always worked hard, rigorously devoting herself to studying, building her own company from the ground up, and finally building the first house of many on a private, wooded cul-de-sac. She was comfortable with the neighbors she’d grown relationships with over the last few years, life was still, peaceful, as she’d always dreamt it would be – that is, until he moved in next door. What happens when two annoying neighbors end up trapped together with nowhere to run?

��︎ chapter warnings: profanity, graphic seggsual content, alcohol consumption, drunk seggs, ONS, possible regret

S/N: This story was written as part of the A Love Like War Writing Event hosted by Sammi of @bangtanwritershq

I'd like to give a special thanks to @downbad4yoongi for lending me her beta skills and helping me to perfect this story!!! A very special thanks to @bangtanwritershq fellow execs for being my rock and keeping me motivated through all of my trying times!! Yall the real G.O.A.T.'s!!!!!

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“You thought what? We had something special?” The sarcasm rolls easily off of his tongue. “It was nice…no, it was fucking great, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it? You’d been at my throat constantly, one night of passion doesn’t change much.”

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“We were drinking, we were basically trapped together, things happened, but when I woke up the next morning…” Jungkook sighs deeply, “I mean, what do you want me to say? Should we just call it a mistake?.”

“A mistake? Transposing numbers in your address, that’s a mistake. Forgetting to add an ingredient to a recipe, that’s a mistake. Fucking someone the way you fucked me?! That’s not a mistake!”

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad! Did we decide that we’re now obligated to speak to each other because we fucked? No! You’ve been rude to me since I moved in, but now you think we’re besties? It happened, it was phenomenal, but I don’t get why you’re so angry.” Jungkooks usual bright doe eyes become dim.

“I’m mad because…” She’s unable to find the words, unable to express how she really feels deep inside, not anger but hurt. “I opened my doors to you, even though you annoyed the shit out of me, I opened myself to you and now I feel trampled on.”

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”

The bright sun slowly creeps above the large trees surrounding the eastern end of the cul-de-sac. The sound of birds chirping, insects chittering, wind blowing through the leaves of the thick forest create a peaceful ambience – which is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a large vehicle.

Gabriella peers through her large picture window, watching the large moving truck travel down the road and into the driveway of the recently sold home next door. She was sad to see her long-time neighbors and friends leave – but she’s now more interested in who’s moving into their home.

She watches closely as three men exit the front of the moving truck, “When’s the new owner gonna arrive?” She mumbles to herself while admiring the driver.

The men are wearing coveralls, but the driver has the top half down and the arms tied around his snatched waist. He bears a form fitting gray tank top, his chest nearly bursting through the ribbed material, his biceps bulge as he opens the back of the moving van, but the sleeve of tattoos decorating his arm is what catches her eye.

Sipping coffee from her steaming mug, she enjoys the view, as the three men haul furniture and boxes into the once empty home. Dawn becomes high noon, Gabriella finishes a virtual meeting with an overseas client and returns to her chaise lounge nestled in front of her large picture window.

The men appear to be on a lunch break, sitting in the driveway against the garage door, shielding themselves from the sun. Her eyes naturally drawn back to Mr. Tattoo, his hair becoming wavy from his sweat. The cool, mid-March air contrasts with the heat from his body, made apparent by the steam rising from his head. After gulping down the rest of his water, the three men get back to work moving more items from the large truck.

High noon fades as dusk begins to creep in and the men finally carry the last few boxes into the home. Before sitting down to eat dinner, she makes her way to the living room window to draw the curtains closed and that’s when she notices something interesting – only two men leave in the moving van and the tattooed man stands in the driveway waving goodbye.

That’s odd she thinks to herself before walking back to the table to enjoy her meal in peaceful solitude. As she eats she comes to the decision that, per her usual neighborly welcoming duties, she’ll whip up a ready-baked casserole in the morning and bring it to the home as a kind gesture – and to determine if the moving man is still in the home.

Before the sun rises, Gabriella’s in the kitchen putting together her neighborhood block party favorite, no peek chicken, along with instructions on how to cook it. She scours her closet for an outfit, opting for her favorite pinstripe navy slim ankle trousers, white tank top, cropped navy cashmere sweater and a pair of navy block heels. She pins half of her hair up in a neat messy bun and curls the bottom half into loose spirals. She quickly applies the basic makeup – powder, eyeliner, lipstick and lightly dusts her cheekbones with blush. Before heading over she grabs her Versace Bright Crystal perfume, bursting two pumps in the air and walking through to apply it as sparingly as possible.

She grabs the casserole dish from the refrigerator and walks to the window to peek through her curtains, which to her surprise, there’s still not a vehicle in the driveway. Rather than assume things, she opts to believe the new homeowner parked their vehicle in the garage.

She walks out the front door and makes her way to the neighbors house, the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she approaches the front porch. Before she’s able to knock, the door swings open, revealing a man stretching on the other side of the glass storm door wearing nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

She attempts to set her eyes on anything other than him, however, the familiar tattooed arm captures her attention. Her gaze trails down his arm extended above his head to his perfectly sculpted torso. Just as she’s giving in to the temptation to continue down to the waistband emblazoned with the familiar CK logo, the man clears his throat, averting her attention to his face.

“Can I help you?” He asks running his fingers through his chin length, wavy hair to pull it away from his face.

The brisk air doesn’t stop the sweat from beading above her lip, her knees begin to feel weak and she can’t find the words.

“I’m…Umm, I’m your neighbor, Gabriella. I live next door and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I would’ve stopped by yesterday, but I wasn’t sure if you lived here. Do you live here? Of course you do! What a dumb question! You just opened the door, in your underwear, so this has to be your home. Anyway, I made a ready-bake no peek chicken casserole for you. I wrote the instructions for it, I just figured it would be easier to just throw this in the oven rather than go grocery shopping the day after you move in and I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling away, what’s your name?” She laughs nervously, deep down inside she wants to quickly set down the Pyrex dish and sprint back to her house.

He opens the door, giving her a clearer view of him, “Jungkook, my name’s Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Ella. It’s okay if I call you Ella, right?” She smiles and nods her head. “Thank you for the food. I planned on ordering delivery, but I can tell this’ll taste much better.” He reaches for the dish and shoots her a smile that nearly melts her – a sharp jaw and manly dimples, pearly white teeth, always the first features she notices about a man and he has them. He stares at her with his large doe eyes, still holding the door open, shivering and his teeth chattering.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! It’s cold and I’m holding you up! You’re welcome, and again, welcome to the neighborhood! I look forward to getting to know you!” Without waiting for a response, she quickly turns and leaves his porch making a hasty retreat back to her house.

Once she’s back inside her warm home, warm blood tints her cheeks and she cups her face in her hands. She’s well aware that it’s not from the warmth of the heat flowing through the house, it’s a feeling she hasn’t enjoyed in quite a while – desire.

She can picture his tattooed arm wrapping around her body, pulling her to him as he gazes into her eyes and kisses her aggressively. The way his muscular body would feel on top of hers, skin to skin, as he ravages her sense of reality with his manhood.

Letting out a deep sigh, she laughs to herself, because she knows very well that she has no time to get involved with anyone. Running her company occupies more of her time than she prefers, yet the long-term benefits outweigh a lack of social life. On the other hand, a couple of hours on a night or two getting hot and heavy with her new hot neighbor would be a convenient opportunity to satisfy her needs.

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind, keeping it there for future reference, if the opportunity happens to arise. Gabriella changes into something a little more comfortable, trading the ankle trousers for satin wide-leg pajama bottoms, hanging the cropped sweater back in her closet, and replacing her heels with her favorite pair of Pink slippers.

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After a long day of cleaning, she retreats to her backyard oasis, kindling a small fire in the stone pit and pouring a glass of wine. The wind whispering through the trees in the forest, owls hooting to one another, insects buzzing in the distance are what compose a relaxing atmosphere for her. She can escape the hustle and bustle of a lengthy commute, overlapping chatter at a restaurant and the constant ringing and dinging of her phone when she withdraws to her sanctuary.

She rests her head back against the patterned cushion of the patio furniture and closes her eyes, taking in the melodic singing of nature – until her serenity is interrupted by the loudest bass drop she’s heard outside of a concert.

“What the fuck is that?” She grumbles to herself. Following the sound, she’s led to the side of her yard where Jungkook just moved in. As she nears the fence, she can hear people laughing and talking louder than necessary.

Although it’s rather irritating to have her quiet night interrupted by his party, she decides to not piss and moan, he did just move in and she understands he’s deserving of a housewarming party. Walking back toward the patio, she grabs her wine and heads inside.

“He could’ve invited me.” She pouts on her way into her room. Rather than dwell on the fact that he completely disregarded her kind gesture and left her out, she plays her favorite sleeping playlist and quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Gabriella’s business has been extremely busy, so she’s had to bring boatloads of work home, however finishing her tasks the last few weeks has not been easy thanks to her gradual irritation with her new annoying neighbor, Jungkook.

Every weekend since he’s moved in he’s thrown a huge party, ten to fifteen cars parked around the cul-de-sac every Friday or Saturday, music blasting until just before dawn. This morning was almost the final straw for her when she found a drunken party-goer peeing in between their houses, luckily for the idiot and Jungkook, he came outside and scolded the man for being a pig.

Nevertheless, her patience was wearing thin, but she figures she can give it the old college try and invite him to her holiday barbecue she’s having next weekend. While she assumes he’s still sleeping, she walks over to leave the invite at his front door.

Carefully opening the storm door, she drops the invite in and gently shuts it and attempts to make a quick retreat. Her escape is unexpectedly spoiled by a familiar voice.

“What’s this?” His hoarse voice barely heard through the storm door.

“It’s an invite, I’m having a barbecue next weekend and figured I should extend an invitation to my new neighbor. Just a friendly gesture from me to you.” Her smug tone isn’t as subtle as she thinks it is.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll try to make it, but I don’t usually plan my weekend in advance, I’m more of a go with the flow type of person.”

She can’t help but find her disdain for this man dissipating as she once again ogles over his half naked body. Unlike the first time they met, he’s wearing sweatpants and it’s evident he has nothing on underneath them. Hanging on his hips, her eyes trail from the waistband to the hanging strings, noticing what appears to be the outline of his generously sized member.

Biting her bottom lip, she lets out a sigh, “Well, I hope you can make it. Spring is the perfect time to enjoy the outdoors around here, our summers are short, hot and humid, so it’s difficult to enjoy the outside during those months…think about it and let me know what you like to drink, that is, if you decide to come.”

“Of course…and I want to apologize about the parties. If you ever have a problem, feel free to come over and let me know.” He shoots her that smile and she melts.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.” She lies through her teeth and smiles, nodding her head before walking away.

Back at home, she can’t help but laugh at herself, “What the fuck is wrong with you ‘Oh, it’s no problem at all’ my ass!!! If that man wasn’t so damn attractive I’d give him a piece of my mind!”

Once again, rather than dwell on her obvious desperation to get laid, she gets busy focusing on the last few documents she has to prepare for her meeting with the board of directors Monday morning.

Before the afternoon begins to fade into dusk, Gabriella finishes completing her preparations for Monday morning and settles in her backyard oasis once again. Replacing the wine with tea, she relaxes while listening to the tranquil evening song of the night wind.

Just as she’s about to retreat inside, a familiar voice calls to her, “Ella.” Jungkook’s voice is surprising, almost harmonious with the peaceful night sounds.

“Jungkook, you startled me! I’m surprised to see you in my yard, since there’s not a huge party or anything.” She feels liberated using such a sarcastic tone.

Jungkook giggles, acknowledging he understands her mockery, “I was on my balcony and noticed you sitting out back by yourself. Just coming to say hi as my neighborly duty.”

“Well, if you’d watched a little longer, you would’ve noticed I was heading back inside.”

“Well, I see that now, maybe next time.” He begins to head back toward the open gate.

“Jungkook…” She waits until he turns back toward her, “would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” He replies nonchalantly and strolls over to her patio.

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.” She disappears into the house, returning about five minutes later. She hands him his tea and sits on the patio chair across from him, blowing into her mug before taking a sip. “You didn’t have any plans for tonight?”

“I told you earlier, I don’t like to make plans. Today was one of those days I felt like relaxing, so here I am.” He sips his tea, lolling his head back to take in the view of the clear sky as the distant rays from the sun tint the sky with warm orange and soft pink tones . “It’s really peaceful out here. I’m used to living in the city, the hustle and bustle of feet shuffling along the sidewalk, noisy traffic, loud music…but here I’m able to attain serenity.”

“That’s why I chose this cul-de-sac.” Gabriella adds. “It’s…private, quiet and surrounded by nature. Aside from the fact there are only five houses and outside of it, there’s not another property for at least two miles.”

“Five houses?” Jungkook asks in confusion.

“There’s a house on the other side of mine, but you wouldn’t notice it if you don’t pay attention. It’s nestled deep in the woods with a gravel driveway, but it’s covered in leaves. It’s actually a beautiful house, it’s unfortunate it wasn’t for sale when I looked here, because I would’ve bought it.” She sighs and sips her tea.

“I never noticed it. It’s probably so peaceful, I’m sure the trees create a sound barrier.” Jungkook gazes off into the direction of the hidden home as he finishes his tea. “Well, I suppose I should get going. Thank you for the tea, Ella.”

“It was my pleasure,” she replies. “We should do this again, that is, if you feel the need for peace and serenity again.”

“Maybe.�� His voice deep and seductive, Gabriella's body responds with a buzz of electricity that raises prickly goosebumps on her arms.

“Don’t be a stranger, we are neighbors after all.”

“I won’t,” he responds before heading back to his house.

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The week passes by in a flash, full of meetings and business dinners, making Gabriella that much more excited for the weekend to finally arrive. She loves holiday weekends and gathering with friends and family, she doesn’t feel so alone – but inside she’s secretly hoping Jungkook will attend.

Gabriella finishes setting up her outdoor oasis to accommodate her guests, gives her home a “once-over”, and prepares to welcome her guests as they arrive.

Car by car, her friends and family arrive, filling the backyard with cheerful banter. Everything seems to be perfect, except for one factor – Jungkook still has yet to show up. Gabriella continuously checks her watch, peeks toward the side of the house and even goes as far as to check out the living room window, all to no avail.

She returns to her guests, pushing back the nagging irritation that began to settle in, that is, until the powerful bass drops from the other side of the fence. Her guests attempt to talk loudly over the music, but she insists they move the party into the house. Once everyone’s inside, she makes her move, slipping away on the side of the house, her adrenaline rushing as she approaches his front door.

She can see him through the storm window, entertaining a woman who clearly came for the attention with her barely there, strapless mini dress. He laughs at whatever the woman is saying, fueling her rage even more and she pounds on the tempered glass.

He excuses himself and begins walking toward the door, flashing that smile that can usually make her melt, but not tonight.

“Oh hey, Ella,” he greets her as he steps out onto the porch. “Did you need something?”

She can’t believe the audacity of this man, not only did he completely ignore her invitation, but he also decided to throw another huge party on the same night as her get-together.

“Oh hey?” She snarls, her blood boiling with each passing second. “It’s one thing if you didn’t want to attend my barbecue, but to throw another fucking party on the same night is pretentious!”

Jungkook smacks his forehead, “Oh fuck! I forgot about it, I swear! A few of my friends from college messaged me the day after I received your invite and let me know they’d be in town. I wanted to come, but I haven’t seen them in a couple of years. I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” She yells heatedly. “I was okay letting you slide with the first eighteen billion parties you had every damn weekend since you’ve moved in, but this right here crosses the line! I work hard every day of the week! Seven days a week! I rarely get the opportunity to unwind with friends and family, this is one of two events I cater at my home every year, and you ruined it!”

“I ruined it?” Jungkook chuckles, “I didn’t ruin shit, you came over here of your own volition, am I right? You left your party to come over here! You ruined your own fucking party! As a matter of fact, I’ll get back to my party where we’re actually having fun, you can go enjoy your stiff ass guests.”

He turns and walks back in the house, making sure to slam the door behind him – now she’s furious.

“Game on, you annoying prick,” she sneers before returning to her home. She goes inside and puts on her game face, continuing to entertain her guests, plotting her next move in her subconscious.

A couple of weeks after her interrupted party, Gabriella sits in the backyard with her college friend, Taeyhung.

“So, how are things with the neighbor after your party duel?” Taehyung jokingly asks.

“It wasn’t a duel,” she scoffs, “I even invited him to the party, but he instead threw a party of his own. He’s so damn annoying, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about.”

Taehyung chuckles, “You’re right, back to business. Did you have a vision for the pool design, or do you trust my artistic instincts?”

“Tae, I know you,” she chuckles softly, “I don’t want anything extravagant. Simple. Elegant. Like me. A basic lap pool, with a seven, no, eight foot splash pad at the top for lounging and a mid-sized hot tub on the opposite end. Simple.”

Taehyung stands, taking a sip of his tea as he looks over her yard. Making a square with his thumbs and forefingers, he searches the yard for the best placement. She loves watching her friend when he transforms into designer mode, his eyes twinkle with excitement and he turns to her with that perfect boxy smile.

“There,” he points to an area of her large yard, “I think that spot would be perfect. There’s no slope, it leaves enough green space to gather outside of the pool and I can envision the beautiful simplicity of the pool.”

“Let’s do it! How soon can you start?” Gabriella shrieks in excitement.

“I’ll get the approval to dig within the next couple of days, this has to start sooner than later, so you can enjoy your pool before the temperature drops. With only eight weeks of Summer here, the pool will be ready for use just a couple of weeks before fall begins.”

“Tae, if it can’t happen until the spring, I’m okay with that. No need to put that much pressure on yourself.”

“It’s no pressure at all. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, I’m even going to add a few upgrades for free.” He winks at her before finishing, “I’m going to make sure it’s heated so the water is always a pleasant temperature, an automatic pool cover and color changing pool lights. You’re my friend and if you hadn’t supported me in the beginning, I don’t know if my business would be this successful.”

“Tae, you really don’t–”

“I do. I’ll add a slide coming from your balcony if you’d like!”

They both laugh and make their way back over to the patio and continue into the night reminiscing on the carefree days of college. As the evening sky begins to fill with stars, they finally decide to call it a night.

“I’ll call you when I get the approval to dig and begin working on your pool immediately, until then, Goodnight Gabriella.”

“Goodnight Tae.”

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With a few weeks left until summer, the digging for her pool and settling of the dirt is ready for concrete to be laid. Gabriella strolls around her future pool, imagining the parties she will have, even able to cater to her family and friends' children, her children one day, she’s enlightened at the thought.

Making her way back to the house, she hears loud machine noises coming from Jungkook's side of the fence. Her curious nature gets the best of her and she heads to the fence, peering through the small gaps in the wood. She can see a small excavator digging in the yard, but what she sees next bothers her the most – Taehyung and Jungkook looking over blueprints.

“What the fuck?” She curses under her breath. “Is he having a pool installed too? Whatever, it’s his property, he can do what he wants.”

Rather than make a fuss, she’s happy Taehyung is getting business and making money, supporting her friend is much more important than her own personal grievances.

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Three weeks into summer and her pool is finally ready for use. She invites her siblings and their children to enjoy the pool. They come nearly everyday for a week, even while she’s at work and nothing could bring her more joy.

She invites some of her closest friends for a swim on the weekend and she’s ready to let loose. After a short dip in the pool they relax on lounge chairs in the splash pad and she gives them the latest update on her annoying neighbor.

“Then this douchebag installs a pool with waterpark amenities! He even has a slide that comes off of his balcony into the pool! If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe he was trying to upstage me every chance he gets, just fucking annoying!” Gabriella rolls her eyes and slams the remaining wine in her glass.

“Listen, Gabs, don’t fret yourself with the likes of that man! He’s clearly trying to overcompensate for his shortcomings, if you know what I mean.” Her best friend, Jisoo, laughs hysterically at her own joke.

“Ji, I don’t think he has any shortcomings in that department, more of just an immature outlook on life…one that irks my very being, but I’ll just continue to brush him and his childlike ways off.”

Their conversation is cut short by the sudden loud music coming from Jungkook’s yard, “So this is what you’re talking about,” Jisoo scoffs. “How the fuck are we supposed to relax poolside with–” Her eyes widen as she stares over the fence.

Gabriella follows her gaze and sees her neighbor, completely naked – and clearly well endowed – at the top of his slide. She can’t tear her eyes away from his body as the setting sun tints his sun-kissed skin with a pink glow, but as much as she’s enjoying this view she’s also filled with rage.

“That’s fucking it!” She immediately rises from her chair and runs to her neighbors to really give him a piece of her mind.

She bypasses the front door and heads to the other side of his house, opening his gate and running to the backyard just as he launches from the slide into the pool. To her surprise, he’s alone, but that’s not what’s important.

“Jungkook!” She screams his name as he emerges from the water, startling him and he just smiles.

He swims to the shallow end of the pool and gets out, quickly grabbing his towel and loosely wrapping it around his waist.

“Ella! I can turn the music down, I didn’t even realize you were in your pool.” He smiles as he gives her exposed body a once over. She feels naked having chosen the skimpiest thong bikini she has, clearly not expecting to meet him like this.

“I don’t give a shit about the music, I’ve become immune to it.” She snarls, “What I’m concerned about is the fact that you decided to come out onto your balcony in your birthday suit.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable or maybe it made you hot and bothered?” He jokes.

“I…ugh, fuck no! What if my nieces and nephews were over again to swim? Did you think about that? There are families in this neighborhood and your balcony is viewable from both backyards on either side of your house! You really need to grow the fuck up!”

She storms off without another word and returns to her friends. They don’t say a word, but they’ve heard everything she’s said. They suggest moving the party into the house and to put this incident behind her in hopes that he’s learned his lesson and it won’t happen again.

Gabriella has spent most of the summer enjoying her pool and fall is beginning to settle in, luckily Taehyung installed a pool heater. It’s quite refreshing to leave the cool night air and blanket herself in the security of the warm water. Stepping out of the pool and back into the cool air is exhilarating.

Hurrying back into the house, she changes into warm, dry clothes and relaxes in her chaise lounge after her tea finishes steeping. While looking out at her front yard, she realizes it’s in desperate need of landscaping.

She contacts a well-known landscaping company and schedules an overhaul of her yard – removal of all dead and dying plants, shrubbery upgrade from the dried up sprinter boxwood to Korean Spice Viburnum, petunias planted under the large weeping willow and a Tiered Versailles Fountain surrounded by winter boxwoods.

She excitedly hangs up the phone and begins picturing how lavish, yet classic and simple her yard will be. It’s been a few years since she last had the landscaping done, so it’s time for a change anyway

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After a week of waiting, her new landscaping was underway. They’d installed the fountain first, as it was the most difficult portion of the design, and now they’re beginning the removal process of the old shrubbery and plants.

Once the yard work is finished, she thanks the workers and takes pictures to send to her best friend. In five years, she’s gone from a small business owner to one of the largest conglomerates in the Northern United States.

Gabriella is proud of herself, proud of the woman she’s become – independent and carefree. Yet, the loneliness she’s begun to feel over the last year is almost too much to bear.

“Maybe that’s why I tolerate the gorgeous, annoying fucker next door,” she grumbles to herself.

The last relationship she was in ended abruptly and she promised herself that the next man would be the type to appreciate a successful woman. However, she wasn’t so sure that Jungkook was that type of man either.

Why is he so competitive? She ponders. Whatever his reason, he’s still a douchebag.

She pushes her inquisitive thoughts to the back of her mind and returns inside to her home office to finalize a proposal. Oftentimes she feels as if her work never ends, that she’s drowning without water, nevertheless, in the end it’s all worth it. She always emerges above water and becomes stronger.

She’s exhausted from everything and goes straight to bed, allowing her pillow to absorb all of her worries.

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The next morning she stands at her kitchen island, sipping her coffee and checking her emails. There's a commotion outside and her first thought is that Jungkook is up to something.

She heads to the picture window and can’t believe what she’s seeing, “This motherfucker!” She rushes out the front door wearing only a satin robe and a short slip underneath.

Jungkook stands with his back facing her in his driveway, directing the landscaping company, “Move it that way about four feet and away from the house another two to three feet!”

“Jungkook!” Gabriella screams, startling him a bit.

He whips around, “Ella! You scared me! What brings you out here…dressed like that?” Once again he looks her up and down, admiring her curves as she realizes what she’s wearing and pulls the satin robe tightly around her body.

“It’s one thing to upgrade your landscape, but to go so far as to put that over-the-top marble statue fountain is a little much. I’m not saying you can’t have a fountain, but this is excessive?”

Jungkook laughs heartily, “I wasn’t aware that there was a limit to the type or size of fountain I could have installed in my yard. I didn’t see that in the neighborhood handbook?”

“My friends were right…” She snarls, “You must be overcompensating for your shortcomings.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” Jungkook snaps back, his cocky tone infuriates Gabriella.

“I wouldn’t fuck you with a pocket pussy!” A downright lie was the only comeback she could gather in that moment.

“Yeah, okay. Well…” He pauses and smiles at her with confidence, because he knows as well as her that he’s won this argument, “if you don’t have anything else, I’m fairly busy right now, doing what I want on my property. Have a great day.”

“Rrgh,” she growls in defeat as she watches him walk away. Deep down, she wishes they could just get along – but is he really the problem?

Two months have passed, aside from the occasional eyerolls or flipping each other off, neither of them have spoken a word to one another. Gabriella could care less, winter is settling in swiftly, the sub-freezing temperatures have chilled her, literally.

Winter there can be brutal, the numbing cold is only a small portion of the savage climate – it’s the unpredictable blizzards that create the utmost danger.

Fortunately, Ella has lived in this private cul-de-sac for three years and she experienced a monstrous blizzard the first year she lived here. After being stuck in her house for nearly two days without electricity, she made the logical decision to have a state-of-the-art generator installed for emergency purposes.

As she waits for the generator technician to finish the yearly maintenance and test run on her generator, a thought crosses her mind – Jungkook's house doesn’t have a generator.

She laughs at her naivety, because he could probably care less about her well-being, so why should she give two fucks about his. Just then, the tech knocks at her patio door, letting her know he’s finished everything.

“You’re good to go. This generator will last you at least 30 more years, having the shed built to keep it safe from all weather conditions was a smart move. Honestly, more homeowners should do that.”

“I definitely did my research before purchasing this model, so I figured that would be the easiest way to keep it intact. Well, thank you so much! Have a great day and keep warm, it’s getting cold out here!”

Gabriella bundles up with blankets on the sofa, enjoying a mug of hot cocoa and browsing through the television channels. Across the bottom of all local channels is the same message – Blizzard Season.

Last year was the same, although it wasn’t as bad as the first and second year, she still gets nervous at the thought. After much consideration, she’d made the executive decision to have all employees work from home for the next three weeks. She isn’t willing to risk anyone having an accident or being stranded at the office, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Over the next week, other than below zero wind chill, there hasn’t been a snowflake in sight. However, that soon changes as the forecaster predicts a snow storm with expectations of twelve or more inches, beginning tonight around 10:00 PM.

She prepares herself for the worst, immediately heading to the store and stocking up on hand warmers, bottled water, candles, flashlight batteries, thick socks and gloves and gas for her snowblower.

As she arrives back to her house, the flurries have begun and she knows this is the “calm” before the storm. As she waits for her garage door to open, she glances over at Jungkook’s house, wondering if he’s prepared for the storm. For a moment, she thinks about being the bigger person and letting him know if his situation goes south he can come to her house. She knows the previous owners didn’t bother having a generator installed, since it was just a summer home for them it wasn’t necessary. Just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, she dismisses it and pulls into the garage.

“If he needs my help, he can come and ask for it since he’s such a big man.” Instantly, all of the agitated feelings she had before rush back. Once inside the house she takes a couple shots of warmed brandy to ease the tension and soothe her chilled bones.

A couple of hours pass and the severity of the storm intensifies. As she peers out the picture window, the snow is a thick blanket on the ground, drifting snow has gathered down the dark road leading out of the cul-de-sac in mounds nearly four to five feet high and visibility is limited through the falling flakes.

She glances over at Jungkook’s house and notices his lights are still on, not that she cares, but she does feel a bit of relief. Even though she loathes the man, she doesn’t want him freezing to death, because they can’t get along. Going against her own best judgment, she decides that, in the event he loses power, she’ll extend the olive branch and invite him to her house.

Just as she’s about to settle on the sofa and check the news the wind and snow pick up, the eye of the storm has arrived and it’s only going to get worse from here. Rather than worry herself, she turns on her relaxation playlist and slowly drifts to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A few hours pass and she wakes up to a frightening scene outside of her window – the street lights are either off or the snow’s so thick she can’t see them. She checks her generator on the interior monitor and sees that the autostart has engaged. Quickly running to her window she strains to see Jungkook’s house, from her view it seems to be pitch black, until she notices a faint light passing by a window.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath. On one hand, she can’t stand the fucker and doesn’t want to travel through the deep snow to offer her help. On the other hand, her humanity is telling her she has to at least attempt to help him. “If he says no, I’m not going to beg him.”

She quickly throws on a pair of thick socks, her snow pants and boots, winter coat and gloves, grabbing a flashlight and hand warmers before walking out of her front door and making the treacherous trek to his house. Her cheeks burn from the frosty wind and she immediately regrets leaving the house without her scarf.

After what felt like an eternity she’s at his front door, banging loudly, not out of worry, but because she wants to get shelter from the wind. She sees a candle through the window and then the door opens. Jungkook lets her in, wearing jogging pants and a sweater with a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s deadly out there!” Jungkook scolds her.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? It’s freezing in here, I take it you lost power?” She asks sincerely.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here with a candle and you definitely wouldn’t have come to check on me.” He laughs heartily.

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Her frustration builds up, “People die in these types of situations!” She’s shaking with anger.

“Calm down, I was just joking,” his tone comes off timid, very unlike his usual cocky persona.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come to start an argument, I came to tell you that if you wanted to, you’re more than welcome to take shelter at my house until it’s safe to return to your house.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, but I also don’t want to freeze to death.” His doe eyes pout at her, “But how do you still have power?”

“I’ll explain when we get to my house, now go and pack some dry clothes and pajamas, bring enough clothes for at least a couple days. Only because it could take them a day or two to get the electricity back up and running. There’s no need to run back and forth until then.” She nods for him to hurry. Jungkook scurries off into the darkness and comes back a bit later with a duffle bag following her out the front door and back to her house.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

JK changes into dry clothes and returns to the living room, still toweling his hair dry and drops onto the sofa on the opposite end from her. His long, wavy locks fluff up around his face, his biceps flexing with each scrub and she can’t help but stare.

“It’s crazy how different your house is from mine,” he says, his eyes gazing up at the vaulted ceiling, “My ceiling is high, but yours appears massive.”

“This isn’t an HOA, when the homeowners built their houses they were given free range to choose whatever style fit their taste. My house is nothing, the first house on the left is like a castle! There’s marble flooring throughout the entire place!” Her eyes sparkle as she talks about it, her small interior design business grew into one of the largest architecture firms solely based on her designs and visions.

“Your house is pretty awesome, I mean, mine is decent, but the interior in mine is a bit outdated?” His face reddens with embarrassment.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” she jokes. “I had to update a lot of this home when I purchased it! I felt like the 80’s smashed into the 90’s when I first viewed this home, but I could see it had potential.”

“I’ll definitely need to update mine once the weather warms up and I hear there’s a well-known interior designer in the neighborhood.” He grins at her softly and she begins to see a different side of him.

“Well, maybe she can find time in her tight schedule to go over some ideas and get a little inspiration from that homeowner.” She replies coyly.

“If you don’t mind, can I have a tour? Maybe I can get some design inspo from this beautifully designed home?” His tone is curious and flirty.

“Of course, where would you like to start?”

“I typically like to start from the bottom and work my way up.” Jungkook asserts provocatively.

Gabriella’s cheeks warm with bashfulness as she forces herself not to smile. Instead, she heads to the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine, “Care for a glass?”

A half-grin forms on his face and he nods his head in acceptance. She pours the wine and slides his glass across the island, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

She walks toward the basement entry and he follows in stride, unable to admire the architecture with her tiny waist and round ass in front of him. He’s only had tiny glimpses of her perfect frame considering most of their encounters end in arguments, but tonight he’s going for a different approach.

Jungkook can’t deny the fact that he was captivated by her the moment he first laid eyes on her, since then he’s realized his approach to get her attention wasn’t going to work. He could tell she saw him as a man, nevertheless, he deciphered his body wasn’t the key to get him any closer to her.

Everytime she was near him, he wanted to pull her body close to his, his large hand on the small of her back, their lips meeting, flesh to flesh, but the opportunity never arose. Even when she was angry and yelling at him, he found himself turned on, desiring her even more.

As she talked about the different areas in her basement, like her art studio, music studio and design room, all he could think about was laying her petite body on multiple surfaces.

“I know your house already has a media room in the basement, but there’s definitely room to expand it.” She turns to see Jungkook in a daze, obviously not hearing a word she’s said. “Your cheeks are a bit rosy, can’t handle the wine?” She teases.

“Huh?” His daze is broken, “Oh, no, I can handle my liquor, I was just thinking of different ideas for my…basement.”

“Well, I think expanding the home theater would be great, you’d definitely spend more time there…rather than outside.”

“About that,” his voice timid again, “Sorry about being so annoying. It’s just my first home and I wanted to enjoy the first year as much as possible, before life gets in the way.”

“I get it. When I first bought this house five years ago, I think I partied nearly everyday for the first few months! I mean, my parties weren’t as wild as yours and I made sure that after a certain time we moved into the house, but I understand. No explanation necessary.” She smiles and nods for him to follow her back upstairs, grabbing the wine from the kitchen they get comfortable on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A couple of bottles later, “While I attended Cornell University's Architecture program, I did interior design on the side. I had to pay for as much of the tuition after aid that I could, I didn’t want to finish college in debt. My network grew and by the time I finished college, I’d traveled to so many states doing interior design just from word of mouth. I was able to expand the small business I started from interior design to include architecture.”

“That’s pretty fucking awesome and an accomplishment worth bragging about. Cheers to Ella and her successful life she’s manifested!” They clink their glasses together and their eyes meet.

Never did the thought cross her mind that she’d be sitting on her living room floor, enjoying a conversation with Jungkook. The more she learns about him, the more intrigued she becomes by his mysteriousness.

“Enough about me, what about you? I know you own the largest moving company in the United States, how did you begin?” She finishes her wine and fills her glass, emptying the third bottle.

“I’ll grab another one,” he suggests, quickly heading to the kitchen and bringing back a bottle. After filling his glass again, he begins, “I came from a normal family, nothing glamorous or spectacular, just a blue collar working father and a part-time waitressing mother. As the youngest of four, I always felt forgotten about, which for most people leads to bad decisions. Instead, I focused on school and getting into college, I wanted to make my parents proud…I wanted them to notice me.” Tears well in her eyes as she listens to the raw, pure emotion in his voice.

“I maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout high school, senior year the offers were pouring in, but none of the colleges piqued my interest. I began applying to schools like Harvard, Yale, Columbia, major ivy league universities and a couple of them responded, but I realized the tuition was beyond my reach even with aid. I was about to give up, when I received an offer from Stanford University. A full-ride scholarship, but I had to write a full scale business plan in order for further consideration. While finishing high school, I switched one of my electives to an AP Business Class, where I quickly learned how to prepare a successful business plan.”

“What made you choose a moving company?” Gabriella questions, fully invested in his climb to success.

“I knew I wanted to run my own business and many ideas crossed my mind, but I also wanted it to be a business that benefited blue collar workers, like my dad. That’s when I decided on the moving company. We not only would provide pick-up and drop-off, we’d also provide storage for those that have sold their current home and were waiting to get into a new home or for it to be built. Before going to college, my parents had a going away party, since I didn’t get a graduation party. At the end of the night, after everyone left, they sat me in the living room and handed me a bank book. From the time I was born, until I left for college, they’d saved $100 a week, over $93,000, for me. I took a small portion of that money and bought a moving truck and started a small moving business, just to continue adding to the money. By the time I graduated college, my business had already expanded throughout the state of California, I had over twenty moving trucks and 80 employees. I guess you can say we both succeeded in the same fashion, from pure drive and motivation.”

“Fucking amazing!” She cups her mouth in embarrassment after she yelled out drunkenly.

Jungkook laughs, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking amazing too.” Sincerity in his tone awakens something inside of her. She leans forward and kisses him on his soft lips, she quickly pulls away, but his arm wraps around and brings her face within centimeters of his. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment.” Desperation and desire explode as their mouths part and tongues meet, a warm explosion of want and need. Their hands touch and explore each other's warm bodies, yearning for more with each caress, but Gabriella breaks away from the kiss.

“Slow down, we’ve got time, neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon.” She points toward the window, where the since forgotten snow storm is still bearing down ruthlessly just beyond the glass. She stands up and reaches her hand out for him to grab, “Let me finish giving you the tour.”

He rushes to his feet and follows behind her, unable to keep his hands to himself, he gently backs her up against the wall halfway up the stairs. Lifting one of her legs, he lowers himself enough to grind against her warm core. His mouth is unable to stay in one place as his lips meet her neck, then her collarbone, until he gently nibbles at her erect nipple through her satin top.

The mix of pain and pleasure rushes from her nipple to her overstimulated cunt as his hard cock rubs against her clit through his pants. The sound of her moans hastens his needy instinct, his hips rotate in a frenzy until the crotch of his once light gray sweats are dark and wet with their juices.

She can’t hold back any longer, pulling the waist of his pants down and sliding the short satin shorts to the side, longing to feel him inside of her. Grabbing his thick cock with her tiny hand, she places it between her slick lips, “I need to feel you, become one with you, please,” she begs as her demand for pleasure intensifies.

His lips kiss her softly and he gently inches into her, feeling the stretch of her untouched walls the deeper he ascends. Gripping him tight, he focuses on pleasing her, fighting the urge to paint her walls with his sticky nectar.

He lifts her other leg and she wraps around him, hugging him tightly as he grips her ass and begins to stroke methodically in and out of her. She nibbles at his lobe, before burying her face into his neck, leaving marks of passion. He begins to feel her walls pulsate and a rush of warmth as she reaches her peak, slowing his stroke until she’s finished.

Lowering her shaking legs, his hooded eyes dark and burning with a fiery passion, she begins to lead him up the stairs, but he isn’t quite done. He leans up against her backside, lowering her onto the stairs and position her ass in the air. He easily slides back into her slick opening, spreading her cheeks as he pounds into her relentlessly, her body trembling as she quickly reaches another high. He pulls his cock out, stroking it slowly to keep his momentum going, but she lays there spent and needing a moment.

Jungkook effortlessly rolls her over and scoops her petite body into his arms and carries her to the top of the stairs, “Which way to your room?” She points down the long corridor to double glass doors and he wastes no time taking her there.

He enters the large master suite, her bed lies in the center of the room, a king-sized canopy with sheer drapes hanging on all four sides. He moves one of the soft curtains aside and places her on the edge of the bed, lowering to his knees and spreading her legs, his warm, soft tongue flicks gently at her sensitive nub.

The jolt of pleasure brings life back to her nearly limp body and she reaches her hands to grip her fingers in his wavy hair. He pushes her hood back and his mouth engulfs her clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue. She rolls her hips, fucking herself with his mouth, creating a buzz of electricity as she cums on his chin.

She scoots back on her bed and motions for him to join her. He frantically lifts his shirt over his head and steps out of his jogging pants, crawling to her, kissing her body as he makes his way up, settling his hips between her thighs.

Gabriella has other plans in mind as she wraps her legs around him and rolls them over, positioning herself on top. He reaches up and cups her plump breasts, kneading her nipples as she lowers herself onto his stiff member.

She slowly slides up and down his shaft, his toes curling as he tries to fight his high. Her sliding shifts to bouncing, her own desperation to cum again takes over her entire being. Jungkook can see the neediness in her eyes, gripping her hips and holding her steady, he begins to thrust upward into her.

He penetrates her and stops, hurriedly rolling her onto her back and pushing her legs to her shoulders, hovering his face within an inch of hers before continuing the savage pounding. Their harmonious moans and the squelching of their mixed juices pushes them both over the edge. They never break eye contact as their peaks meet one another, like a volcano erupting he fills her with his warm cum, sweat dripping from his face, soaking the comforter beneath her.

He finally lowers himself on top of her, spent, his stamina needing a recharge. She pulls the throw blanket from the end of the bed and tosses it over them as Jungkook slides to her side, she rolls over and scoots her ass against him, pulling his arm over her as they drift to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Gabriella wakes up with a slight headache, but the feeling of Jungkook’s warm, sleeping body next to hers is settling, relaxing enough to ease the pain just a bit. She attempts to get up and his arm tightens around her body, “Just a little longer, please.” His pouty voice almost wins her over.

“As much as I’d love to stay here like this, we need some coffee and I need to check the status of the electricity in the neighborhood.” He lets out a long sigh, before giving in, throwing the blanket from his naked body and stretching his limbs.

She gets up from the bed and admires all of the glory that is Jeon Jungkook, the man she once loathed, has now become the object of her affection…or desire. Whatever he may become, last night will be a memory she keeps nestled away for a long time.

She heats up the water and begins making the drip coffee, before checking her phone. Just as Jungkook makes his way into the kitchen, her phone rings.

“Hello?...Okay…Well that’s a good thing and very fast…I’ll go check on my neighbors since the street’s still inaccessible…Stay warm and have a good day…goodbye…”

She hangs up and pours their coffee, “The electricity is restored, so you’ll be able to go home, that is, whenever you’re ready.”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit, if that’s okay with you.” She smiles and they enjoy coffee and a small breakfast together. He leads her to the guest bathroom and they shower together, put on lounging clothes and lay together on the sofa until they fall asleep watching TV.”

Gabriella wakes up just as the sun’s setting, but Jungkook isn’t next to her. She gets up and looks out the window at his house and sees the lights are on, her heart begins to feel a little heavy, but she knows it was probably just a one time occurrence and won’t happen again.

She walks into the kitchen to get a glass of water and notices a piece of paper on the island under his coffee cup:

“Ella,

I’m not sure what to say, but I know I want to say ‘Thank You’.

I don’t know if I would’ve survived the night alone in my house, even after everything we’ve been through, you still offered me a safe haven, and I appreciate you for that.

Where we go from here, who knows, but let’s not make things awkward, we can go back to the way things used to be (minus the arguing) and start on a new foot, fresh, being normal neighbors.

I owe you for everything, and I mean everything.

Jungkook”

She’s not sure how to feel, she wants to scream and cry from shame. She wants to run over to his house and tell him how she feels, tell him that she doesn’t want to be normal neighbors, that she wants more.

However, she knows she’ll do neither, she’ll accept things as they are and continue living her life like she has been – accepting the loneliness.

It’s been over a week since that night and they haven’t argued, in fact, they haven’t spoken to each other either. Gabriella has returned back to her busy work schedule, so it’s been a little easier to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut.

Friday evening, as she returns from work, Jungkook is sitting on his front porch. She wonders if he’s waiting for her, so rather than pull in the garage, she parks in front of it. She hopes he’ll call out to her and she’ll run over there eagerly, but he doesn’t, he sits and stares at his phone, not even a glance in her direction.

Gabriella finally loses it, she can’t take the unknown, she needs to figure out what’s going on and why he hasn’t spoken to her in over a week. She silently storms over, determined to speak her mind and get things off of her chest.

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!” She screams inside, but her pride can’t let him know how weak he’s made her.

Gabriella is livid, she wants to smash his windows, take a sledgehammer to his fountain, but instead she trudges back to her house in pure defeat. He fooled her, he played the role he needed to that night to get in her pants, got what he wanted and now she’s just another notch on his belt.

She slams her door causing the entry table to rock and her treasured vase to fall and shatter to the floor. Her overwhelming emotions tip over the edge and the tears stream down her face. She feels used, stupid, unworthy and unwanted, all because of her annoying ass neighbor, Jungkook.

She’s about to grab the broom when there’s a knock at her door. She isn’t expecting any guests, but when she opens the door, she’s frozen with shock.

“Fuck! I don’t even know why I’m here!” Jungkook stands there winded and sweaty, wearing only a tank top, basketball shorts and slippers, “I just know that I’m sorry. I’m not sure how to do this relationship shit! You’re the first woman I’ve ever longed for, desired, the few others I’ve been with were nothing to me, just something to do, but you…you’re special.” The tears run down his rosy cheeks as he shivers from the cold.

Gabriella quickly opens the door, “Come inside. Why would you come here dressed like that?” She ushers him to the fireplace and wraps the throw blanket around his shoulders.

“I just don’t want to get left behind by you, you’re older, you’ve experienced more in life that I haven’t yet. I don’t want you to get bored with my curiosity, my interests, with all of the things you’ve already done that I have yet to tap into.” He sobs. “I don’t want to be the forgotten child again. Isn’t that how you view me? The immature, annoying guy from next door?”

Gabriella smiles, “From the day I met you, I viewed you as a man. Yes, you did shit that drove me insane, but at the same time, deep down, it made me want to get to know you even more. Now that I’ve gotten a glimpse into you, the real you, I want more. I would never get bored with you, you keep me on my toes, keep me striving for more out of life, more out of you.”

Jungkook sniffles and wipes his face with his shirt, “Then where do we go from here?” He looks up at her with his large, brown doe eyes.

“I don’t know where we go from here, but wherever we go, let’s go together.”

43 notes · View notes

voiceoffenrisulfr · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter Eleven - "Every Time I Slip Into the Ocean, it's Like Going Home."

The boys live with the after-effects of the kidnapping, and how to move forward… Together. CW: Discussion of gunshot wounds and captivity, non-graphic medical care, smut, AAAALLLL the smut. Full smut warnings in prompts.

Prompts used (contains spoilers); - ‘Thigh Riding’ – @anyfandomfluffbingo; - “Aw, You’re Blushing.” – @anyfandomgoesbingo Any Fandom Kink Bingo; - “Kiss Me”– @buckybarnesbingo (B005); - ‘Dry Humping’, ‘Deep Throating’ – @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo (July); - “Take Your Meds, Baby.”– Bug’s First Bingo; - “Is this okay?”, ‘Taking Hair Behind Their Ear’ – @eclipsingbingo; - ‘Hugs from Behind’ – Eclipsing Bingo (Dark Version); - “Anything You Want” – Eclipsing Bingo (Flash);

- ‘Masturbation’, ‘Submissive Lover’, ‘Voyeur’ - @fandom-free-bingo (Flight Edition); - ‘Glorious’ – Gen Prompt Bingo; - ‘Held at Gunpoint to ‘Taking Their Mind Off of it’ – @sweetspicybingo Hurt/Comfort Bingo; - ‘Kink: Exhibitionism’ – @julybreakbingo (5x5), - ‘Flutter’ – July Break Bingo (6x6); - “Does it Hurt?”, ‘Giggling while kissing or nervous kissing’ – July Break Bingo (7x7); - ‘Fingers in Mouth or Hand Over Mouth’, ‘Obsessive Love’ – July Break Bingo (Kofi Exclusive); – “I’m Going to Take Care of You, Okay?” - July Break Bingo (Kofi Exclusive); - ‘Love as Appreciation’ – July Break Bingo (Summer);

- ‘Fingering’, ‘Handjobs’, ‘Stripping’, ‘Worship’, ‘Cock Warming’, Praise Kink’ – @kinky-things-happen; - ‘Butterflies in Their Stomach’ – @seasonaldelightsbingo Language of Flowers; - ‘Trans!Character’ – @lgbtqbingo; - Space is Magic’ – @multifandom-flash - Astronomy Day + National Space Day; - ‘Sweat Together’ – Multifandom Flash Bingo – New Year (NSFW); - 'Vampire Hickey' - Multifandom Flash Bingo - Halloween (5037); - ‘Bite of Affection’ – Multifandom Flash Bingo - Valentine’s Day; - ‘First Time’ – Pre-July Break Flash Bingo; - ‘Fuck Away the Pain’ – @sebastianstanbingo.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Boards not included because there's too many XD, divider by yours truly <3

In the end, Greg was in the hospital for almost two weeks – and even then, he was only released because of his own pushing, despite my objections.

Two days later, we were back aboard the Whisper, his eyes closed as he stood with his hands on the wheel, thumbs smoothing the grooves worn by his own touch over the years. I watched reverently as he took a long, deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of salt-encrusted wood and sun-warmed seawater. The motion made him wince minutely, a guilty grimace crossing my own features at this discomfort.

“Take your meds, baby,” I murmured, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw and offering him the bottle I kept permanently handy, constantly alert of any sign of pain.

With a soft chuckle, he tossed back a couple of pills, returning the bottle to me with a grateful smile. He leaned closer to skim his lips over mine, fingers cupping my chin tenderly. “I love you, Snowflake,” he breathed, and I sighed happily, lost in the sparkle of sunlight on water reflected in the depths of his mahogany eyes. He’d told me he loved me dozens of times by now, but it still made my stomach fizz with delight. I couldn’t get enough, and I found myself going out of my way to do things for him – both as an expression of my own adoration, and in the hope of hearing those words once more.

“I love you too, Lieutenant Tyne,” I sighed, fingers tightening a little against his back. Alongside everything else, his declaration of love had me more eager for him than ever. It was taking conscious effort to keep my touches innocent and chaste; I knew that at the subtlest sign of my need for him, he’d disregard any thought for his wellbeing and would have had his way with me in his hospital bed.

But now we were back where we were meant to be, he was cleared for light exercise, and I couldn’t stop the grip tangling in his tank top, earning an amused raise of his eyebrow. “Easy, sweet boy, or I won’t be around to set sail… Though it wouldn’t be hard to convince me not to care,” he added with a purr, burrowing his face in my neck to trail his lips tenderly along my throat. I let out a light-hearted, world-weary sigh as my head fell back, fingers reluctantly unwrapping from his shirt.

“Fine, fine,” I murmured, eyelids fluttering in pleasure and resisting the temptation to pout when he drew away. One hand still rested on the wheel of his beloved ship, and I snorted, shaking my head fondly. “Welcome back, Captain.”

The day passed in a blur of sun and sea, the ocean mercifully calm for our return. I relished in watching my love come back to life, brightening further with each lungful of salted air and called order. We’d received many well-wishes and exclamations of relief at our safety – but the crew, much like their Captain, seemed largely occupied with getting back to normal.

The fresh air and return to manual labour proved exhausting, and by the time the sun went down, I was more than happy to lean against the railing, letting out a heavy, contented sigh.

“Hey, beautiful.”

A gentle hand rested on the small of my back, and I smiled softly, eyes closing in bliss. “Good evening, my Captain.”

His arms wrapped around me, holding me carefully to his chest and nuzzling into my hair. “A good one indeed,” he agreed, resting his chin on my shoulder lightly. I tipped my head back to stare up at the stars beginning to fade into view overhead, beautifully content.

“I love you,” I murmured, my arm draping over his with a happy shiver.

“I love you too, my beautiful boy,” he purred, holding me a little tighter to him. “Are you coming to bed, sweetheart? I’ve missed sleeping beside you.”

I looked to him with an adoring smile, heart picking up a little at the thought of finally being nested in beside him once more – and surprising him with my newfound readiness. I was nervous – afraid, almost – but I felt safe with this man who would risk his life for me. The steadily healing wound in his chest was a tactile testament to his desire to protect me, and I trusted him with my heart and body unerringly.

With a soft nod, I melted further against him, humming contentedly. “I’ve missed you too, Sailor… Please take me to bed.” During his time in hospital, I’d slept in a chair by his bedside, clinging to his hand unwaveringly – but it had been weeks since I had curled up beside him for an easy night sleep, and I couldn’t wait to feel him pressed up against me once more.

He sighed happily, fingers lacing through mine to lead me away from the rail and across the empty deck towards his quarters. Most of the crew was sleeping, but I spotted Neri reclining by the helm, taking the night shift while her Captain got some rest.

Though not too much, if I got my way.

The second the door closed, my mouth found his again, hungry and insistent. A soft groan escaped him as he acquiesced all too willingly, hand tangling in my hair to hold me closer. He hummed in surprise as I nudged him gently backwards, the back of his knees touching against the bed. Lowering himself eagerly, he trembled with pleasure as I straddled his lap, hands resting gingerly on his chest. “I want you,” I breathed, dropping my head to trail gentle kisses along his jaw.

“You’ve got me, baby. Always,” he hummed absently, fingers curling against my hips. I chuckled softly, drawing back to brush my lips lightly against his.

“I want you to touch me,” I clarified, forehead resting gently against my Captain’s. His eyes widened infinitesimally, a nervous tongue darting out to probe his lower lip.

“You do?” he pressed, thumbs caressing his hips lightly, smiling when I offered him a firm nod.

“Yes. Please,” I added, arms shifting to wrap around his neck. “Make me feel good, Lieutenant Tyne.”

His fingers entwined in my hair, holding me to him as he kissed me deeply. “Anything you want, beautiful,” he murmured, eyes dancing and hips twitching. I felt my cheeks colour as his arousal pressed against me, and he smirked. “Aw… You’re blushing.” I turned ever redder, and he chuckled, reaching to brush a strand of hair from my cheek and tuck it tenderly behind my ear. “You’re so beautiful when you blush for me, Snowflake.”

Despite myself, I couldn’t help but smile at that, fingers smoothing the nape of his neck gently. “Kiss me, Captain.”

With a soft, guttural groan, he obliged eagerly, his free hand finding the small of my back to hold me closer as his mouth me mine with something akin to desperation. The sound of enthusiastic need that escaped me would’ve had me blushing once more had I any capacity for such things; instead, I simply continued to whimper hungrily as he guided my body to the sheets, settling beside me to move closer, the straining in his pants evident. His leg pressed between mine, and I gasped sharply, drawing back to drink in air as he gently worked his thigh against me. Even through several layers, the sensation had me trembling and rutting, hands grasping with a feral need to have him closer He smirked against my mouth, rumbling happily. “So desperate, sweetheart… Look at you squirm.”

I whined under my breath, arching against him. “I need you…”

He tutted quietly, grinning. “Oh, sweet boy. I’m going to take my time with you – and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to, d’you hear me?” I nodded frantically, and he smiled, cupping my hip a little harder, fingers pressing into my skin. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

I nodded again, sighing happily as his mouth trailed slowly over my jaw and down my throat, hands pushing up under my shirt to tug it over my head. Lips moving lower, he traced the scars over my chest, and paused to press a tender kiss to the puckered, raised ridge of still-healing skin where the bullet had clipped me. My fingers wrapped in his hair as he unbuttoned my pants, sliding them patiently down my legs, trailing kisses up my calf slowly and earning a quiet hum of joy. His fingertips curled in my waistband, and I trembled, bringing him to a halt as he glanced up at me, resting his cheek gently on the soft skin at the inside of my thigh. “Is this okay?” he breathed, earning a nervous, eager smile.

“Very, very okay,” I reassured him, hand finding his hair and smoothing tenderly. He beamed, pressing an adoring kiss to my thigh as he eased my underwear down, dark eyes locked on mine.

It wasn’t until my boxers had been carelessly tossed over his shoulder that he rocked back onto his heels, swallowing visibly as he took me in. “Glorious,” he murmured, voice thick with reverence and he gestured absently toward the pillows. “More up the bed, sweetheart.” I blushed, shuffling obligingly, and his hands found my knees to push them gently further apart. My skin erupted in goosebumps at the exposure, feeling the wetness between my legs increase at the heat of his gaze on me. “Touch yourself for me, sweet boy. Show me what you like,” he purred, one hand dropping to grind against the straining in his pants.

I let out a soft, eager whimper, my own fingers trailing down my body to slowly caress myself, groaning aloud. “You make me so wet, Captain Tyne…” I whispered, grinning at his sharp, audible intake of breath. His enthusiasm spurred me on, and I sighed in pleasure, legs falling further apart to offer more of myself to his hungry gaze as a fingertip teased my entrance. “I can’t wait for you to finally be the first one to stretch out my tight pussy…”

He ground out a groan, undoing his belt deftly and squeezing his length through the cotton of his underwear. “Fuck – that filthy mouth with get you everywhere, baby.”

I smirked, arching as I slipped a finger inside myself slowly. “I wanna see that big, thick cock, Lieutenant Tyne,” I purred, his eyes on me intensely intoxicating, and I found myself panting and squirming, wetness flowing freely under his gaze. He licked his lips and inched down his boxers, wrapping around his length, stroking lazily as my body thrummed at the sight and I gulped. “Jesus…” I breathed, feeling my eyes grow wide. He smirked, trailing a thumb over his weeping tip, leaning closer to offer the smeared digit to me. Tentatively, I took the tip between my lips, eyes closing in pleasure at the taste of him, my hand on myself moving a little faster. A soft whine escaped me as I sucked his thumb eagerly, lids parting once more to fix him with a desperate gaze. He swallowed and nodded, drawing back to gesture me closer.

“Suck my cock, pretty boy,” he purred, dropping back to recline on an elbow, heavy-lidded gaze locked on me as I scrambled closer. My hand wrapped around him uncertainly, grinning happily when he sighed in pleasure as I stroked him slowly. Reassured, I squeezed his length gently, working him patiently and following the cues offered by his expression. His eyes closed, hips twitching, one hand grasping at the sheets as he let out a guttural groan. “Fuck, you’re good at th-” He cut himself off with a grunt as I bowed my head to flick the tip of my tongue over him, purring, unable to keep myself from wrapping my lips around him to suck lightly. His hand found my hair, tangling in the dark strands with surprising tenderness, shuddering as I bobbed my head tentatively. The weight of his cock on my tongue was intoxicating, and I found myself taking him deeper, eagerly letting his length slide toward the back of my mouth. The groan that he released as he brushed against my throat made my veins hum with pleasure, eyes wide and enraptured as I gazed up at him imploringly. He licked his lips, hips shifting as his fingers tightened in my hair. “More?” he prompted softly, his free hand shifting to tip up my chin minutely when I nodded. Slowly, beautifully, he pushed his way into my throat, and my lashes fluttered with pleasure at the feeling of him filling me, every inch of his impressive length pressed between my lips as he sighed contentedly. He rested there for a moment, fingers caressing my hair, palm pressed to my throat to feel his own hardness inside me, blinking down at me with love and devotion. “You look so pretty, sweet boy…” he purred, and I couldn’t help but squirm happily, tongue massaging the base of his cock. He groaned weakly, twitching even closer before drawing back to let me breathe. I drew air hungrily into my lungs as quickly as I could, then shifted nearer once more, taking him with unerring eagerness back into my throat and earning a surprised moan. Fingers tightening, his hips jerked, driving his length between my lips with a quick, needy pace. “Fuck, Snowflake, this perfect mouth is gonna make me come…” he warned, and I gazed up at him, head shifting to meet his speed, my hands wrapping around his hips to jerk him closer as I pleaded with my eyes for his pleasure. With a deafening groan, he pinned me to him as his cock pulsed between my lips, coating my throat with thick ropes of his seed.

I stayed in place as long as I could, ignorant to my lack of my oxygen until my lungs began to burn and he fell still, trembling. Grudgingly and with a whine of reluctance, I drew back, more than mildly annoyed by my body’s requirement for air. We panted in unison, his chest heaving, and I crawled up to settle against him, humming happily. “Good?”

He simply groaned in response, head falling back as his arm gave way, leaving him splayed across the sheets limply. His eyes flicked to me, shining with joy, and he tiredly gestured me closer, kissing me deeply as soon as I was in reach. “Incredible,” he murmured, breathless and depleted, purring at the taste of himself on my lips. “So… So good.” His hand found my hip to pull me closer, shaking his head in a search for cognizance as his fingers trailed gently over my skin. “Can I touch you?” he breathed, eyes dancing with pleasure when I nodded desperately.

“Fuck, yes please,” I whispered, one leg hooking over his to expose myself to his wandering touch with desperate enthusiasm. His lips found my throat, nipping and sucking gently, pausing only to let out a soft groan as his fingertips brushed against me.

“Fuck… Look how wet you are for me,” he purred, mouth resting behind my ear as he crooned to me. “Such a soaked pussy - so desperate for your Captain to touch you, hm?” I nodded eagerly, whimpering at the feather-light touch trailing from clit to entrance, knees falling further apart to offer myself for his mercy.

“Please – fuck, please, Sir, I need you to touch me more,” I mewled pitifully, writhing under his almost-imperceptible ministrations. He hummed thoughtfully and shifted to his knees, settling between my legs, his eyes on my dripping pussy as he continued his devoted torture.

“Tell me what you want, Snowflake,” he murmured, tracing gentle circles around my aching clit.

“I-I want you. I want your fingers inside me – I want you to stroke my clit – I-I want you to make me come, Sir, please!” I whined, hips jerking in a desperate attempt to increase the pressure of his touch. His free hand found my abdomen to pin me to the sheets, eyes shifting to mine as he slid a single finger inside me slowly, humming with pleasure.

“Fuck – so damn tight… I don’t know if my cock’s gonna fit inside this tiny cunt, baby…” he mused, finger curling and making me jerk in pleasure. I whimpered aloud, squirming as best I could under his grip, forcing my legs further still with utter desperation.

“Please- stretch me out, Sir- ge-get me ready for that big, thick cock to fuck my pussy…” I gasped, fingers clenching in the sheets. The hand moved from my abdomen to stroke my clit lazily, his single digit continuing its ministrations for a few moments more before a second pushed its way inside me. I moaned eagerly, back arching, frantic and desperate as I rutted against his hand.

“Look at you squirm, baby,” he groaned, fingers shifting harder inside me. “Fucking my hand like a needy whore, hm? That’s it… You fuck yourself for me, Snowflake.” His fingers stilled, and I whined, hips jerking with depraved hunger, feeling his digits grow slicker with my wetness as I leaked steadily around him and earning a hum of pleasure for my efforts. “So fucking sexy, watching this desperate cunt leak for me, all stretched out on your Captain’s fingers… You want more, Snowflake?” he offered, a third digit probing questioningly at my entrance. I whimpered and nodded needily, back arching to press myself closer, letting out a ragged moan as he pressed his way inside me once more, curling his fingers inside me and making me quiver uselessly.

“Fuck! Oh, God, yes – just like that, Sergeant, that- that feels so good, so- fuck, please…” I whimpered, head falling back, clawing frantically at the sheets as his hand moved faster. The touch on my clit grew firmer, caressing me in time with the fingers stretching me open, a rumble of joy building in his chest.

“Oh, you like that, hm? Look how soaked this tight pussy is, clinging to me so needily…” He drove into me harder, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of my wetness as he worked me eagerly. “That’s it, sweet boy – you take it so well! Gonna make you come with my fingers in this gorgeous cunt, and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream for me.”

My muscles clenched obligingly as I whimpered breathlessly, toes curling. I could only nod, lost in the feeling of him driving into my eager hole. There was hardly any recognition in my lust-filled mind as his fingers shifted, wetness building behind the digits, and he groaned with understanding, pressing deeply inside me for a moment longer before drawing back. The cry that left me as my pussy soaked him was feral, throat aching as I wailed, rutting against him frantically as he pressed closer once more. Over and over he fucked me open, letting my wetness coat him, before his hand moved hander on my clit, growling hungrily. “Come for me, Snowflake.”

I sobbed and trembled as I convulsed around him, jerking and grinding, breath coming in ragged pants. He didn’t slow as I moaned deafeningly, garbled pleas escaping me as each nerve in my body sang from the stimulation, only easing up when I collapsed back to the soaked sheets with an exhausted whimper, quivering helplessly, my knees falling to the bed as I wept openly. The feeling of him slowly drawing out of me make me shudder, and he shifted to curl me close against him, fingertips trailing gently over my back. “Easy – easy, sweet boy, that’s it. I’ve got you.”

I buried my face in his chest, illogical tears falling in my overwhelmed overstimulation, breath hitching as I clung to him. “F-fuck, God…”

He chuckled softly, pressing a tender kiss to my sweat damp head as he squeezed me gently. “It’s okay, Snowflake… There you go. You did so good, my love.”

I pushed my head up through my tears, blinking through water clinging to my lashes. “I- I did?”

Smiling softly, he dipped his own head to kiss me gently. “You did,” he murmured, drawing back a little and indicating his wet body. “Utterly soaked me…”

A blush built in my cheeks, and I buried back against him with a groan. “Oh God, I didn’t think I- That you- That that-… Oh, God…”

He chuckled and squeezed me close, nuzzling into my hair. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, sweet boy. No embarrassment.”

Blushing harder, I glanced up uncertainly, chewing on my lip. “It… It was?”

With a soft groan, he kissed me again, shifting his hips a little closer pointedly, his leaking cock pressing against me. “I’m a sailor, baby. I like things wet.”

I laughed aloud, leaning up to wrap my arms around his neck, leg draping over his hip to press me nearer. “I wonder how much you’d enjoy me gushing around your cock, then…” I murmured, looking up at him through my lashes shyly, inching closer until his tip brushed against my wetness lightly. He shuddered, eyes blown wide as his hand found my hip lightly.

“Are you sure, sweet boy?” he breathed, thumb smoothing gently over my skin. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want t-”

I interrupted him by pressing my lips firmly to his, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want this,” I whispered, forehead against his, “I want you. Please, Captain Tyne.”

With a nervous pass of his tongue over his lower lip, he nodded, swallowing dryly. He rolled me gently, holding my thigh lightly to keep my leg around him, his eyes on mine as the very end of him pressed against me gently. Inhaling shakily, I nodded back, feeling my eyelashes flutter closed as he slowly shifted himself inside me. My fingers tightened infinitesimally against the back of his neck as his length stretched me out, fighting the instinctive urge of my muscles to clench around the intrusion, staying still and nervous until he buried himself fully inside me. He paused, sheathed inside me, forehead finding mine as he panted. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

My eyes opened once more to find his gaze boring into my own, filled with concern, and I owned him a lazy smile. “No,” I breathed, head falling back. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I’m… Mmm. I’m so good.” My fingers found the barely healed skin of his bullet wound, caressing the skin lightly. “Are you okay?”

He brought my hand to his mouth, kissing each fingertip in turn. “I’m perfect, Snowflake. Absolutely perfect. I don’t think it could hurt right now even if it wanted to.” His lips found mine, and I giggled, soft and nervous, as my other leg joined the first around his waist, the motion earning a quiet groan. “God, you’re like a fucking vice, my sweet boy…”

“Please,” I whispered, trailing my hands with devoted reverence over the strong arms either side of me. “Please, my love.”

My moan was breathless and deafening as he drew back patiently, eyes scanning my face for any minute sign of discomfort, but there was only pleasure at the feeling of him stretching me out, of his thick length finally moving inside me. One hand shifted to the back of my head so he could hold me tightly, hips rolling with a loving care that brought tears to my eyes once more. I whined quietly, burying my face in his neck, teeth meeting in the soft skin of his throat in a valiant effort not to cry out my delight for crew and ocean to hear.

The way he held me close, cradling me so adoringly and delicately against him, setting my body aflame as he made love to me, was almost more than I could handle. Despite words gasped in the passionate exchange of our mutual arousal, this was the perfect way for him to treat me – with reverence and sweet love, with utter respect and devotion and emphasis on my pleasure. There was no frantic rutting this time, no pleas and whimpers, only shared breaths gradually becoming heavier, the feeling of our bodies moving in tender unison, my warning coming as fingers grasping at his spine as light exploded before my eyes.

He saw me through my all-encompassing climax without faltering, holding himself back until my muscles had stopped quivering and the moans of rapture had faded to soft gasps and mewls once more. Only then did he bury himself inside me a little more firmly, my heels tightening against his back to drag him closer as he shuddered, mouth finding mine with a quiet groan, the feeling of his seed spilling around his length inside me making me inhale sharply in surprise and hold him tighter, trembling in pleasure.

He held me close to his chest, carefully maneouvered on his slowly softening cock to tuck my back against him without removing his length from where it held his seed inside me. I shivered at the feeling, panting lightly as I tipped my head back gently against his shoulder, eyes closed in exhaustion and pleasure. His arm around me tightened infinitesimally, fingers tracing unknowable patterns into the sensitive skin of my abdomen as he sighed. “Good?” I prompted at a whisper, my own hand skirting the muscles of his forearm adoringly.

“Incredible,” he breathed, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

“It didn’t hurt?” I pressed, relieved when he shook his head against me.

“Not for a second.” His fingers stilled, pausing in their delicate ministrations, and I heard him swallow nervously. “And for you? Did it hurt? Was it… Was I… Okay?”

I turned my head to meet his gaze, the mahogany shining ochre and gold in the soft light offered by the lamp at our bedside, and kissed him softly, our lips bruised from our passion. “Not at all. It, and you…” I smiled softly, pressing my forehead to his, hand raising to caress his cheek lovingly. “You were perfect. My sweet Gregor. My amazing Lieutenant, my flawless Captain… My perfect, perfect Grishenka.”

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darkkitty1208 · 1 year ago

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❤👉👌

Hehehe

This is for the emoji drabble game thing again. Also I can't, for the love of me, write graphic smut anymore, so have… whatever this is instead. >.<" Sorry.

TW: Suggestive/Sexual Themes, Non-Graphic Smut

His hips undulate rhythmically, frantically. Stuttered gasps, responding grunts. Trembling hands, scrambling, landing against broad shoulders, grasping on desperately. Calloused hands guiding an arched body by the waist, fingers digging in the flesh.

"Tony–"

It's whispered like a prayer, like the name of a God spoken by its pleading worshiper. Like a chanted mantra repeated in his every waking day. Every touch burns like a brand, igniting a flame. Every movement speaks of vulnerability, trust. Of yearning, lust. At the end they held each other, so close their breaths tangle, and whispered confessions fade slowly into the night.

#god. do i know what im doing? no. am i posting this anyway? yeah. XD #stephen strange #tony stark #tw suggestive #ironstrange #fanfic #non-graphic smut #my writing #ask #anonymous #fanfic drabble emoji game

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lifblogs · 7 months ago

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Rating: Explicit Pairing: Hemlock/Tech | CT-9902 | CX-2 Word Count: 1936 Summary: Hemlock is aggravated by the slow pace of his projects, and he masturbates to thoughts of CX-2 to try and relieve some of his feelings. WARNINGS: Surgery, Brain Surgery, Human Experimentation, Medical Experimentation, Blood and Gore, Gore, Blood, Major Injuries, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

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imposterzoe · 3 months ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Oz (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Zahir Arif/Kareem Said Characters: Zahir Arif, Kareem Said, Sean Murphy (Oz), Leroy Tidd | Salah Udeen Additional Tags: Angst, Non-Graphic Smut, Fluff, Love, Apologies Summary:

Kareem feels guilty. He wants to apologize.

This is the only way he can.

#oz #oz hbo #zahir arif #kareem said #zahir arif/kareem said #angst #non-graphic smut #fluff #love #apologies #my fic

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lover-of-mine · 1 year ago

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How explicit can you get and still call it implied sexual content? Asking for a friend.

#.-.#im about to border on non graphic smut i think lol #help #this escalated .-.#wayf fic #thoughts thoughts thoughts

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late-to-the-fandom · 2 years ago

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Renathal has been Prof. Denathrius’ teaching assistant for so long it feels like eternity, but the arrival of a foreign exchange student brings changes to the University of the Shadowlands, for better or worse. Work in Progress

This WIP is a fluffy Uni!AU retelling of Light and Shadows, updated as I feel spiritually led. Click here to read the series on Ao3

Chapter 1: An Answer Key for All Occasions

In which Renathal meets Denathrius' newest student, unaffectionately known as the Maw Walker. Rated T | 6,697 words

Chapter 2: An Ember Club to Remember

In which Renathal takes the Maw Walker on a potentially ill-advised date. Rated M | 6,658 words

Chapter 3: The Teaching Assistant of Dominion

Renathal is forced to decide just how far he's willing to take his undefined relationship with the Maw Walker. Rated M | 7,295 words

Chapter 4: Mortal Reminder

When the Maw Walker misses class for the first time all semester, Renathal is determined to find out why. Rated T | 4,923 words

Last Minute (Dinner) Preparations

Renathal takes pains to craft an impressive second date. The Maw Walker ruins them in the best possible way (hint: it’s smut).

Rated E for explicit smut | 2,382 words

Artwork by the amazing @ph-arrt

#Renathal fanfiction #prince renathal #renathal x maw walker #a shadow UNIverse #university AU #fanfiction #wow fanfiction #world of warcraft #venthyr #revendreth #shadowlands #Sire Denathrius #the ember court #smut #non-graphic smut #fluff

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strang3lov3 · 25 days ago

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Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter.

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there.

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew.

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration.

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.”

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.”

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.”

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add.

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.”

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes.

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.”

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.”

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been.

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.”

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.”

“You are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.”

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.”

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle.

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?”

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things.

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed.

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home.

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.”

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him.

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.”

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases.

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.”

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.”

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.”

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse.

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.”

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.”

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.”

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?”

“Just lay down, Joel.”

“Did you take that from my fridge?”

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so.

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!”

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him.

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.”

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.”

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time.

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature.

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly.

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.”

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.”

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.”

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.”

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man.

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man.

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

“Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.”

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him.

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.”

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.”

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing.

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy.

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.”

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.”

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him.

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.”

Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders.

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

“Just - just a second.”

“Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.”

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone.

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone.

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them.

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.”

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now.

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.”

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.”

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.”

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.”

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest.

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying.

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it.

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles.

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest.

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.”

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips.

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?”

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #grumpy joel #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #Joel miller #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou smut #the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou Joel

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year ago

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Dark!Aemond x oc (Snow falls, chapter 26: running around in circles

Concept: You are Willa Wyldewoods, lady of Wyldecrest. After being denied your hand in marriage, Aemond murders your family and makes himself Lord of WyldeCrest, out-powering you. He claims you as his wife and spoils, He commands and goes over your home now and as you will learn right now: No one is safe under his reign. Not even you.

WARNINGS: Non-con, smut 18+ dark!aemond and slight bookaemond, abuse, choking, obessed insane aemond, cursing,

He growls when grabbing you from the bed. "You think I'd kill for every brat I want in my bed?" He chokes you. You gasp helplessly. "You think I let anyone sleep in my bed, near me, where you can kill me, easily? You think I like it that the thought of another's hands on you makes me want to burn down villages and massacre civilisations?!" He shouts the words at you as you are scared but also confused. "I didn't fuck anyone since I married you! From the whore at your home, to the whores here in King's Landing! No one can even compare to you! Hearing you talk yourself down is making me mad!"

You are touched, scared and afraid and aroused at the same time as you hear those words leave the lips of your husband. So he didn't take anyone in his bed. Or so he claims. Perhaps he is lying.

Aemond seems to only now notice that he is choking you and lets go of your neck. "Now, my little fox…’’ He makes sure there is a pause when he takes in your shaking body and your widened pupils. Of fear, perhaps. But also of desire.

It was fucking Aegon, pleasuring Aegon and pleasing Aegon. All that she taught you was that Aemond likes his bedmates wild and untamed, and you are nothing of the sorts.

He moves on with his questions.

"Your friend. What did she learn you?' You know it best to answer honestly. And Aurelia didn't teach you anything sexual. Perhaps she showed you some things, but none of it was teaching you.

Aemond smacks your behind when you cry out as his cruel smacks. "You have a habit of rambling whenever you are nervous. Clear answers, pet." He groans when tugging at your fox coat.

You gulp and you have to clear your throat before speaking. Your throat feels dry.

''Not much. She did a few things with the king -"Your rambling is interrupted by two hard blows on your behind.

Aemonds hands gently caress your face. "Did you like it, Willa?' He asks. "Do you like it when you have no say? Do you like it when you are helpless?" He wonders out loud. Do you? You find it confusing.

You close your eyes and nod.

"He.. he had sex with her when I was present. She forced me to kiss her." And you touched yourself when you watched them. But you don't tell Aemond that. He said he already "dealt" with Aegon. You don't want your husband to risk his life by upsetting the king by making another example out of him.

You know you must answer. To your husband, yes. But also to yourself. Who are you, really? You must be honest. "I do, and I don't. I do like it when we are alone and you take control. But if your brother marched in here and held me down... I wouldn't like it one bit.' You confess. You picture the drunk smelly king on top of you compared to Aemond, and you know who you'd prefer in a heartbeat.

Aemond sighs when rubbing your back. "I should take his head for corrupting my innocent sweet fox." He murmurs softly in your neck. "You are so scared of my brother now. He has been warned not to play any games with you again. You are mine, little fox." He whispers. "Mine alone." Aemond declares, when kissing your cheeks of tears.

You chuckle a little nervously. That sounded an awful lot like treason. The worst of treason. Kingslaying, betrayal, murder and even kinslaying. "H-husband, you mustn't say such things. That could be treason-" If anyone heard him...

He is more interested in your lessons. "Did she told you to clench yourself when we fuck? Did she teach you how to milk me dry?" He asks.

Yet he hushes you.

"O, Hush. As if you give a fuck about my brother." He grins at you cheekily. "You must worry about your own fate, little fox. The things I'll do with you to make you repay your debt to me. To things I'd do with your holes and your body." He sighs as if he's picturing himself already cock deep inside of you.

You shake your head.

"No, I...I discovered it on my own." Aurelia only told you you were a slave and that you did not know Aemond. Not truly.

He grins approving.

"Naughty girl..." He touches your chin. You and him both forgot that he is partly covered in blood.

Aemond dryly stares at his fingers.

" I forgot I'm still covered in blood." He does not move however. He smiles at you. His wife. He waits for you to come up with a idea. He already knows you are clever, and he knows you want him to get rid of all the blood.

Aemond nods relaxingly when you finally touch his face. "I like my bath boiling hot, my little fox." He tells you with a wink. "Go prepare my bath for me."

You carefully make a suggestion.

"A bath might do you good. You have had a...intense night." You say softly. "I am sure we can find an unoccupied bathroom..." Aemond’s bathroom, for one.

You prepare the bath for your husband. Aemond first tests the water by entering one finger. You think of what else those fingers have entered and are turned wet. You quickly turn your head, avoiding your sinful thoughts as Aemond undresses himself, getting ready to sit in the bath. He sighs of relief and enjoyment when he finally lays in the big tub.

Aemond washes himself when you watch. He takes his time scrubbing the blood of his body and seems to be not aware of how nervous you are. You have been with your husband quite a few times by now but you never saw him or anyone bathe.

His bright eye goes open when he slightly lowers it into a glare. "Willa. Why are you so insecure?" His question comes out of nowhere. It hits you as a slap on your face. You freeze and stop breathing for a moment. So it is that obvious to him. Does he like it or does it annoy him?

You scold yourself for thinking of Aemond's preference first. These are your feelings not his. You need to be brave and strong now. Why do you care more for his preferences than the fact that these feelings hurt, kill and torment you beyond compare? They are the reason you nearly slept with a very unkind whore.

Aemond sinks back in the tub after your confession rubbing his forehead in thought as if he completely forgot that he once told you that.

You laugh but it's insincere.

"I mean, it's hard not to be. You vowed to me at the wedding after you first took me into your bed, a moment where you could have been kind, that many girls came to you and will come to you. That you would fuck other women. I could not satisfy my own husband enough that he would rather stay with me, his fresh wife. Instead he went to whores." You sound bitter. You are bitter. You hate how it still stings all those months later.

He does not answer. But then he does, and he blurts it out rather casually. "I apologize for making you feel that way." He apologizes now? Your brows raise in surprise. You must check the sky for pigs later.

You don't take his apology at first. You want to hurt him. To make him understand what he did with you. What his treason did with you. "I am not sure I can handle sharing you with so many. It is why I think I will never measure up and even wanted to fuck a whore for you." You want to hear he is sorry, but more importantly that he will never look at another woman again.

Aemond sighs deeply.

"That girl that I slept with..." that whore? What does he want to say? That whore at Wyldecrest? He never told you who it was.

He leans back, avoiding your eyes.

You glare boiling with rage.

"Yes?"

"I seem to have misremembered it." Misremember it? What does that mean? What does any of this mean? You are confused.

He has the audacity to smirk at you. As a naughty puppy who stole a biscuit. "It was an innocent little lie on my behalf." A lie. You will strangle him.

Yet your voice is sharp.

"Aemond?"

As an answer your husband growls and avoids you. So it is true. He was lying to you again. "Hm? You think I'm stupid? You are one of the richest families in Westeros. You might not be the richest, but your wealth outmatches every household in the North. You could barge into every house and throw a golden dragon at someone's feet before stealing their daughter away." He did so before. He did not even pay your family. He only killed them, at Aegon’s request.

Or perhaps this is a lie.

"I don't believe you. You did sleep with her and try to deny it now. Who would not come to you? How can anyone resist you?"

Aemond laughs, mockingly when you tear up. You married a monster. A beast. But his laugh is hollow. It is not real. And his smile falls when he speaks looking anywhere but your face. "Given the fact I am a mutilated half blind beast, most women find me unattractive and a monster. None were eager to crawl on top of me. This is why my brother got me a slave to blow off some steam." It is your eyes that avoid him now. He grabs your chin firmly so you are forced to look into his remaining good eye. His eye goes over your body, taking you in before growling in the shell of your ear."And to buy a whore? I don't buy my pleasures, Willa. I take them from their safe homes and I make them mine as you well know. It’s what I did with you.’’

Aemond growls thinking that you pity him. "I am a beast. A horrendous beast that no one would dare to curse themselves with." You lightly smack one of his hands and he hisses. You glare warning him of pushing you away again.

You are insulted by his reminder, you are insulted by him insulting your taste in men by insulting himself. Your face softens.

"You are beautiful..." You mutter to him and reach out to touch him.

You take hold of his face, caressing it gently. "You are not a monster." You tell him when leaning in, careful to not slip into the bath. He is surprised but doesn't stop you. You lean in closer, empowered by his silence and his curiosity. You feel brave and for the very first time... you feel beautiful. Wanted. Desired. And more...

You feel...

"You wicked little fox." He mutters to himself. "I am afraid that hitting your husband is a form of treason." He grins speaking to you. You smile.

Powerful.

In control for once.

You lean in and kiss Aemond on his lips before leaving dozens of little kisses over his face and even his scarred side. "There." You declare before moving away from him. He breathes out.

You recite a lesson that your septa told you long ago.``To fully forget and forgive one must face atonement for her sins." You don't think your maid would approve of your wicked plans with Aemond and yourself, but she is not here for it anymore.

You take off your fox fur coat and undo yourself of your nightgown when Aemond watches every movement you make from the bath. His voice is already affected by his lust being heavy and dark. "I agree, I didn't know the Old Gods believed in that as well." He is a Hightower. Half at least. Religion is in his blood.

Because Aemond killed her.

You ignore that thought, pausing it for now.

You tell him how you think it is. The old Gods, the new gods, the drowned god...it is all the same face. Perhaps they are all real, and you believe that. You believe they are all real and can co-exist. Just as many different people. "Gods are gods, husband. I like to think that just as all people, they have small things in common."

He nods, interested in your views. He does not mock you or laugh at you for not believing in his gods alone. "That is an interesting prospect. I can't say I thought of it before. You believe in all the gods, then?"

Do you? This conversation started so easily and now..."I, it's difficult husband. I believe there is something that keeps us safe. Something that drives us. My parents raised me with both the old Gods and the new. But perhaps there are more gods beyond those I've been raised with. Who am I to turn my back on gods because I wasn't raised with them?'

"You just crave approval." He murmurs to himself. "You are perfect." He finally has enough and moves on.

He is eying you with hunger and desire. "What will your attoment be, little fox? How will you pay for your sins?" He asks from the bath.

You laugh. "Sins? Are you a septon now?" You once had to call him master, he loves when you call him husband and loses control when you call him king so you are not that surprised.

Aemond thinks, smirking.

"No, not a Septon". ‘’Just your God. You worship me after all. When you nibble at my cock, when you beg me and cry for me. When you are on your knees for me..." You give a soft nod.

He warns you one final time.

"This won't be very pleasant for you, little fox. I will not hold back." He will hurt you. Good. You need to be hurt. You need to forget that you want to run away from him. You need to feel his desire and that he at least wants you. Now more than ever.

You lower your gaze.

"You may treat me as you wish."

He grins aroused by your consent.

"O, that never was not the case, little fox. You are my little pet and my little wife." You don't think you ever get used to Aemond's sharp tongue.

He gets out of the bath.

You look up to your husband.

"What will your attoment be?" You ask, causing him to nearly slip on the stone tiles.

He is shocked.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice is full of worry and offense. He finds it ridiculous that he must face punishment for his sins as you have for your own.

You are grabbed by your throat and choked. Aemond glares at you through his lashes and stops only when you are hushed and quiet. "Now, little fox. It works differently for me. You are a little WyldeWoods fox. I am a Dragon of the house Targaryen. The word "Blood" is in my house words." He tells you as if you are a foolish little girl.

You grin, explaining yourself.

It only makes sense. "if I am to be punished, you should be as well." It is only fair. "I have been unfaithful to you, and for that I will endure my punishment but you have killed. That is even worse-"

You stutter

"B-but-"

Aemond continues to glare at you. You nervously laugh. "Heh. You see, killing is why you need atonement not-"

He sharply pinches your left nipple. "No." He simply says.

"If you think you can punish me, you can try little fox, but I promise you, I will punish you back. You are already being naughty, defying your husband as this, making him wait for his much-earned reward for killing your enemies for you." He murmurs in your ear when you shiver by the thought of all the dead people just downstairs.

"Is that all you want me to suffer for?" He asks dryly.

You shake your head.

"For lying to me about the whore. For killing Aurelia-"

You feel guilty. Could you have talked her out of this? Had you not touched her, had Aemond not killed her? You will never know.

He groans annoyed.

"No one cared about Aurelia.' That is the truth. No one cared about Aurelia. Aegon only cared about her body. You only cared about what she could tell you about Aemond. And Aemond only cared what she had told you.

He reads you very well.

"She was not your friend, Little fox. She was another master for you to cling to. She played you." He says. You must believe him for your own sanity. Because you are not sure you can handle the thought of him killing a possible friend. Not again.

"You mustn't be frightened, little fox. You know by now that being under your husband's control is a good thing. You know I care for you and your...perversions." He mutters when sucking on your neck. You moan the way he likes. Soft and obedient.

You are pressed against the wall.

"H-husband?" You are pressed with your face into the wall when Aemond takes stand behind you, rubbing your ass when water drips everywhere.

He chuckles when you are frightened and worried. "One of these days you'll run out of excuses, or perhaps you cross a line where there is no coming back from. I'll throw you on your knees and finally, finally will fuck this tight little hole and claim you fully as my wife and my pet." He roars in your ear when rubbing you.

You give an absent, scared nod. You are terrified for that day. A blow is dealt to your bum, and you gasp when Aemond forces your hands to your entrance. He grabs your hands and lets them touch you. "Touch yourself gently with one finger. No rubbing or fucking. Just Touch softly." You obey, following his orders closely.

You turn wet against Aemond's front. "Good girl, let me see..." You are turned around and Aemond takes in your wet red and dripping cunt. He smirks when running his own fingers briefly over your folds. You shiver.

Aemond thinks for a while. "Get on all fours." You obey hesitant at first but allow yourself to crawl from your husband. Aemond nods approvingly when petting your head softly. "I am so sorry for what comes now, little fox. You will not enjoy it. I know you won't. But I need you." You try to escape but Aemond easily drags you back, sinking to his own knees as well. He forces your cunt against his front and with a deep rough trust enters you when you cry out in pain. "Nrgh!" Your cries echo through the room as Aemond sighs of pure delight.

You fall on your side, as Aemond chuckles in your ear. He is inside you, his cock pressed inside of you tightly. He makes himself at home, forcing the cock as deep and far as he can go. Until you are filled up entirely. You moan weakly and buck to get him off you but instead of stopping he smacks your behind and stars pounding.

Your face is pressed down and you feel the cock pound away at your pussy. You feel warm and wet and judging by his groans he enjoys himself. You cry weakly as Aemond takes you, unaware of your misery.

"I am nearly there." He promises you instead. "You are so tight for me, my fox. You were made for me. You fit me so well." You can only grunt softly and accept. Aemond becomes aggressive the moment you have surrendered, aroused by it. He groans before fucking you tightly and taking you when you cry and whimper. He is there. Almost there. You need to be brave and to keep strong. Any moment he can be satisfied.

You hesitantly buck back.

You clench your muscles as you did before. You feel him pound at your walls hitting different pleasure spots. Your vision blurs and you clench tighter. Aemond growls as an animal before fucking you on the painful stone floor. "Sstop..." You beg him helplessly.

He comes in his hands, rubbing it out over your face. You have cum and tears on your cheeks now. Aemond forces your head to his crotch and opens wide. You watch as his cock is entering your mouth. 'Clean your husband.' You suck him clean for him and you also lick his balls affectionately. Aemond fucks your mouth as well; but much lazier than he fucked your cunt. Your cunt is on fire and stings, burns and drips with cum and your own wetness. Aemond finished...

But you didn't.

"Good girl. You were so good today." He whispers. "I'm very pleased." You appreciate his kind words and lean into his touch.

"Shall I take a look?" He knows more about it than you do unfortunately. And that won't change for a while.

You make your voice a soft whisper when you rub yourself against his body forcing his fingers to touch your cunt.

"My cunny hurts." You whisper in his ear. Aemond grins but nods.

You nod once again.

"Yes please..."

You are a bit annoyed that he seems to repeat himself as well, when he might as well could fuck you. "I am already being punished. I am sorry.' You say.

He chuckles.

"You should not have gone to the whore, Willa. I don't like sharing you." you feel bad enough as it is about the dead people downstairs. He should not bring up your treasonous actions.

He chuckles darkly and you have your hair stand up on your arms.

"You will be, little fox. You will think twice about fucking any other person but me. No one else's cock will ever inject you and no other cock will bring you as high as I can. Is that understood?" You nod.

But he wants a verbal answer. So you give him what he wants.

"Yes, my Prince." You say.

Aemond notices your red glinstering wet cunt. "Yes. I see what the issue is." You are relieved. You hope it is not something serious or worse an illness.

Aemond growls.

"Master, you slut. Now spread wide, some me how pathetic and wet you are for me after my stern talking with you." You clumsily spread your legs for Aemond so he can inspect you.

Aemond nods before smacking your cunt. You cry out for mercy. He grins. "A classical case of a cunt due for a good fucking, as well as a greedy owner who wants to be owned as a slave." He tells you in your ear when rubbing your cunt with two fingers. You let him and gasp.

You feel your worry only grow.

"You do?"

You become aroused as the abuse continues. Aemond notices this and keeps from smacking you. "Your cunny thinks for you. I must teach you to use your little brain instead. Although, I doubt there is much over. I might have fucked it out of your head." He chuckles darkly. You nod, never agreeing to those words when you were not aroused but you agree to him so easily when you are aroused.

And he smacks down on it as well.

"Pathetic." Smack. "Ridiculous." Smack. You whimper aroused and yet terrified. "Pitiful." Smack.

Aemond sighs, letting his fingers go over you when you roll your hips and steady yourself. "Yes, this is the source of all our problems. Your sweet, little tight and wet cunny." He murmurs. "You like it when I touch it, don't you? Do you like this?' He briefly rubs you. You nod. "And this?' He fingers your folds, running his fingers over it. You nod again. "And finally..do you like this, you whore?" His fingers dig in three at once. You cry out in approval and wrap your legs around his arm desperately. You buck and moan.

After a while, Aemond stops you with a wicked grin on his lips, taking control of your pleasure once more. "Not so fast or the pleasure will fade. You will hold onto your pleasure until I fuck your cunny." You don't meet his eye. Aemond drags you by the hair and smacks you two times on your exposed cunt when you scream in pain or is it pure pleasure?

He grins.

"Fuck my fingers as if it is my cock. Make me proud, slut. Show me what you learned and how desperate you are for me." You nod, obeying your husband when he buries himself deep inside your extra wet and stretched out pussy. Your muscles and walls tighten around him and you let out the one after the other soft beg and plead.

"Is that understood?" He barks.

You are too aroused and nod when moaning. You hope he is satisfied.

"Y-yes..." You take the fingers deeper and more rougher. You need to chase it. You want to chase it.

Aemond rolls his eye.

He wants verbal answers and you keep forgetting. "Is that understood?" He barks before hitting you once more. You nod eagerly, not sure you can keep your promise if he hits another time.

Aemond notices your change very well and removes his fingers with a cruel smirk when you gasp as they are pulled from deep inside of you. Helplessly wet you gawk at him. "Good girl." He gives you a pat on the head before shoving a finger in your mouth. You imagine it's his thick shaft and lick it clean for him of your own wetness. You taste delicious.

"You are such a cumslut." He whispers in your ear. "Come here, my little fox." You obey. You scootch over to him, following him blindly.

You need to find pleasure. "Husband, I am nearly there."

So you do which much effort you do. "Yes." Followed by a very soft and timid. "Please master."

The kinslayer laughs cruelly.

"I know, you slut. Your cunt felt even more tight than usual. Do you wish for me to fuck you senseless and to make you spend as a dirty whore?" He waits for your answer. He wants to hear you say it.

"Now, follow back into the bedchamber." He commands you with a wink. You follow him.

He is pleased. Of course he is.

"Little fox, fetch me my robe." You obey and faithfully hand him his robe when he covers himself.

Aemond takes you back to your shared bedchamber. Instead of asking if you want to lay down, he grabs your ass and smacks down his hands on it, groaning when giving you an order. "On the bed with you." Excitement makes master of you as you are ordered on the bed.

You sit obediently and await for your husband to come out and play.

#dark aemond fic #hotd #SnowFallsAtWyldeCrest #non-con #smut #mentions of cheating #agression issues #jealousy #graphic descriptions #gore #mentions of murder #dark old work #AFAB Reader #Dark #head the warnings #writing #old work

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