#you know how many fics i would have missed out on if i only read mcshep?????

[popcornforone]

Upon One’s Self

A Dave York Fan Fic

It’s been a while but happy Dave York Saturday. You’ve missed them haven’t you? I have. This was never the plan for this week, but then last Saturday someone in a conversation gave me an idea & now here we are with filth for our stabby stabby.

Synopsis:- you’ve come back from a top secret mission with the army, but you need to go through protocol first.

Word count:- 5800

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING AS THE MAN IS A MENACE! PIV unprotected sex, fingering, lack of consent, previous relationship, hook up, easy fuck, squirting, swearing, daddy is used once, work colleague having sex, dominating & controlling behaviour, choking, spitting.Basically standard Dave. This is also Young Dave so he isn’t seen as being a cheater.

Thanks as always everyone for the read. Hope you enjoy peoples.

8 months you’d been undercover. Very few people knew. You only told your family you were going on tour with the army. But no you had a special mission. One only a handful knew to about. It’s been scary & multiple times you thought your cover would be blown, but you survived, flashes of the nightmare you endured creep into your sleep even before you were out. It’s been hell.

4 days ago your supervisor called you back. Enough intel had been gathered, enough for a strike to happen. But you had to be out of harms way within 30hours or you would join as an unfortunate. You were told to report to the nearest outpost. That’s someone high up would come & get you within a week, & explain the situation, you would be rewarded beyond anything you could imagine for a low level corporal. Not many Americans are in this area, with your training & previous special ops experience you were prepared for a hostel hosting from the outpost, to be questioned, to be intimated, to even possibly be taken out of an equation, those are the rules. You knew this was the game, but that’s also part of the reason why you were sent on this mission. You’re strong & you know what you’re capable of. You are one of the best at what you do. Only a handful are better.

You were greeted by 4 guns pointed at your head as you arrived. All shouting at you to drop to your knees before getting within 10ft of the outpost. You did as you were told. Your Hands on the back of your head, making sure they can see your US army dog tags hanging around your neck, you’d remembered to put them on as soon as you knew you weren’t being followed. You’re a little bit breathless & tired, walking for more than 2 days in the desert has had its toll. All you had was the rations on you, & 2 bottles of water.

“Name & rank?” & voice over a tannoy booms & you reply clearly with your full name including all of your military information.

“Why are you here”

“Classified, contact Admiral Loughton, tell him the detachment is back” you say & lift your head. You blink, unable to see in the scorching sun. So bright, it had not been your friend. You are trying to make out how many people are near you. But then you are plunged into darkness. A black bag thrown over your head. You don’t mean to scream but it’s instinct as you are pushed to the ground. The material the only thing protecting your face from getting scuffed up by the dirt, dust & stones your face was being buried into. You’ve been in worse situations than this. You are Completely flat face forward, hands still on your head, as another hand pushes you down. You can almost taste the dust in your mouth.

“Check her pockets” it’s a voice you recognise & you gasp. Surely not. Not here. You’re then dragged to your knees & across the dirt & into the compound, wondering if the voice was a ghost or if it really was him.

The bag is lifted off your head about an hour later. You squint & blink before then adjusting to the dim light. It’s a small grey room. One window, a matress, a sink, a toilet, a table, 2 chairs & a hole in the wall for food to be delivered. Compared to where you had been on the mission in the last 8 months this was an improvement. You knew this was protocol, you knew this would happen. You’ve previously had to observe people who claimed to be us army officials who have come back or arrived at the wrong out post. It’s not nice but you are all fully aware of the drills. It’s just worse for it to happen to a woman than a man.

The door creeks open a while later, sounding like the hinges have never seen oils. The sound of army boots heavy on the floor clonking. You lift your head as the door shuts & your eyes are wide. Your ears didn’t deceive you. It was his voice.

Standing before you is Dave York. He was 2 years above you when you joined army training. He taught you a lot. You used to come up with strategies in notebooks, plan the missions you would one day both hope to be on. Often you exchanged rations, decided to split your phone calls you were allowed when it was someone’s birthday or celebration you knew. You looked out for each other. He was a confident first, then a friend, then a teacher & for one brief afternoon a lover. You were nervous before going on your final training assignment, that you didn’t think you were ready for & Dave calmed you down in medical examination room by sticking his hand down your trousers. You weren’t caught but Dave railed you that afternoon. Making your cunt contract in the most exquisite ways. The look on his face as you came & he snarled before his own orgasm, will be a look you will never forget. It worked. You were much calmer before the assignment. When you got back & told Dave excitedly how it had gone, he informed you he had been posted to a special operation & he wouldn’t be back for a few months, but to wait for him. You watched him pack his bag, taking one of your note books with a couple of jokes in, just to make him smile when he was down & alone. This was 5 years ago.

You’d tried to keep tabs on him but he was a ghost, a very good ghost, you did this up to going on this recent mission. Part of your brain always Wondering if he would look for you too. That’s why you became a special operations recruit, to find Dave. But you’ve never been put on the same mission or exercise. Maybe he was too good, or maybe you weren’t or maybe you were even better than him, you weren’t sure. But every time since that afternoon when you’ve thought about him or had sex with anyone, it’s just not the same as the release you had with him.

Dave stands there & looks you up & down. You can’t deny you do the same. He’s still in brilliant shape. That green tshirt touched every mussel on his torso, those shoulders are so broad. The way he grip the clipboard tightly, with those large hands. Not one hair is out of place. Yea he’s still glorious, unlike you, you think. You’ve not washed for a week & you’ve had to escape & track through a Harsh desert. Your clothes still stink of the camp fire from your mission. Your hair hasn’t been cut in months, there’s dirt & dust in every crevice. Blisters on your skin, sunburned in places. You are not the girl Dave would ever want to come back for.

“So…” he says softly reading out your name. He scoffs reading out your paper work. “Long time no see”

“Yes corporal…”

“It’s first sergeant now” he interrupts. A smug look on his face that he’s leapt up the ranks.

“I still prefer Dave” you reply.

“& id prefer sergeant York or sir” he’s very formal, as he rubs his bare forearm.

“Yes sir” you say & nod with a polite smile. You know this will get rough but at least it’s someone you know. “I gotta be honest, it’s nice to see a familiar face” you state. “8 months is a long time being undercover”

“I can imagine” he says as he walks further into the room & grabs one of the small chairs & sits behind the table. The clip board you can see has all your official data on, clearly they have checked you are who you are. It’s only as you look at it that you realise your dog tags are attached to it, you hadn’t even realised they were not around your neck anymore. “So 8 months, why such a long mission?”

“It was compulsory, could have been longer. special ops take time to deliver intel, to make sure we get the right person, surely you know that” you say presumptively. Dave looks up at you. Dave exhales sharply through his nose, tapping the clipboard against the table a couple of times. His gaze is unreadable, but you catch the flicker of something in his eyes, curiosity, irritation, or maybe even something softer.

“I know how it works,” he replies, voice measured. “What I don’t know is why you were sent. Why you specifically.” You lean back against the cold wall as you are still standing, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’ll have to take that up with Admiral Loughton.” His lips press into a thin line.

“I already did.” He tilts his head, studying you. “They were very keen for me to keep you here until further notice. Which means either you’re extremely valuable…” His eyes darken slightly. “Or you’re a liability.”

“Surely You don’t believe that.” Your jaw tightens.

“I don’t believe anything yet,” he replies smoothly, lacing his fingers together. “All I know is you walked into this outpost alone, with no backup, carrying classified intel that I don’t have clearance for. That makes you a security risk, regardless of how well I used to know you.” You swallow, watching the way his forearm flexes as he leans forward. He’s playing the role well, keeping the professional barrier between you. But you know Dave. Beneath the cool, disciplined exterior, there’s a flicker of something else.

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated,” you say finally. “I followed protocol. If they told you to hold me, fine. But you know I’m not a threat.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“Do I?”

You feel a twinge of something dangerously close to hurt. Has he really forgotten how dedicated you were, it may have been 5 years since you last saw each other but the man must still remember certain things, be it personal or professional, were you really the friend who kept a a lot of information in a notebook or were you just an easy shag who he befriended. Before you can respond, he pushes back his chair & stands, looking over you. His expression is unreadable again, but his eyes, those sharp, knowing brown eyes, are scanning you, looking for something. A crack in your armour.

“You’ll be in here until I get further orders,” he says. “Until then, you eat when I say, sleep when I say, & answer when I ask you something. Understood?” You stare at him, heart pounding. The way he’s looking at you, it’s not just authority, it’s something else. A test. A challenge. You recall that he likes a challenge.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, voice steady & do the training salute you used to do to each other as a joke. Dave holds your gaze for a moment longer. There’s a small smile on his face, he remembers.

“So you know how this part has to go” he states sternly.

“Yes sir” you gulp. Suddenly remembering that it’s about to get extremely intrusive.

“Good” he throws a chair your way. “Sit” you do as obliged. He reaches into his back pocket & puts on two black latex gloves. “Legally I now have to say for the recording that I First Sergeant David Christopher York am about to conduct a strip search to insure that there is no contraband…” you both know this is legally bound to be said. After this point the recording will end & then Dave will destroy all of the clothes you are wearing & inspect every inch of you. It will be violating but it must be done. Who knows what you could have on you or inside you. If anything is found Dave has the right to do whatever he has to, to remove it. When he finishes his speech about your rights you gulp.

“I consent & I can calmly before we start, state that I have nothing upon one’s self, I am clean.”

“I’ll be the judge if that” in the corner of your eye you see the camera light blink 3 times & then go off. It’s now just you & Dave.

Dave exhales & stares before believing orders.

“Stand up”

You obey without hesitation. Your pulse quickening, suddenly there is no saliva is in your mouth, it’s dryer than the dessert you walked through. Usually a strip search is by someone you don’t know but today, it’s someone you know, who you’ve searched for. It’s Dave.

Each touch even with the gloves on makes you flinch, your arms out stretched as he pats you down. When he kicks your legs apart you try not to think of the naughty things he would do in other circumstances, with this move. The way his hand skims down your spine sends shivers, you’re just not sure if they are of desire or from being scared.

“Tshirt, off”

It wasn’t a request, & you don’t hesitate. Your modesty disappeared a long time ago. You slowly reach the hem & peel it over your head. Your body battered & bruised, you’ve lost weight in the last 8 months. Daves trying to keep it calm & professional he has a job to do. But he looks at your bra, memories of sucking on your breasts, flag back to him. How your nipples respond with each lick. How you whimpered his name. He know his jobs going to get harder the more he orders your undressing.

His hand instinctively while checking your skin, skims over your bra, he can hear your breath hitch. It makes him smirk, he try’s not to show you, but you can sense it.

“Trousers too, belt first, throw it towards the door.” His voice is hoarse.

With the belt gone as you step out of the trousers (your shoes were taken on arrival) you feel the most vulnerable & petrified you have been in the last 8 months. In your bra & panties as your body shows your increasing pulse standing in front of Dave. He’s more of a challenge than any special operation.

His gaze never leaves, his own heart pounding. He remembers it all so well. He remembers his intention of coming back too, now filled with guilt, but maybe just maybe he could set this right.

You hear the knife blade spring free. It’s from behind you as is Dave. It slices through the back of your bra with ease. You shake your shoulders so it falls to the floor without you touching it. His large hands go up & down all over your bare back. Dave exhales sharply. His touch lingering on your exposed skin.

“Turn around” another order & you do so. Your eyes closed, no wanting to see Dave’s reaction to your breasts. He sighs as he looks. There they are, the pillows of joy he once tasted, still perky, the coldness of the room & their exposure making them erect already. His hands gently lift them up & check nothing is underneath. You gasp & wince at one touch & he stops. His hand softly goes back & sees as incision to the side of your left breast.

“What happened?” He asks softly, concerned by the wound. Clearly older than the mission you have been on, but still a violent shade, enough to make him ask.

“Syria 2 years ago, I was the lucky one” he sighs, he had been in Syria too, he lost a friend in a lobby when a building fell down on them.

“Sorry” he says before he softly rubs it. Hands that kill being extremely gentle with you.

The room falls still & silent for a few moments. Your eyes flutter open as his hands Grace your ribs. But there is no time to mourn the loss of friends & colleagues you know the drill, & this is no time to get personal either. Dave then takes your hand & walks you in just your panties over to the table before he drops to his knees. Your stomach clenches, butterflies appear as his gloves fingers go into your waist band. You don’t realise you’re panting, but Dave does. He slowly & deliberately rolls them down from your hips & down your legs, lifting your feet up to free you from them. Along with the rest of your clothes they are tossed in a pile to be destroyed. Your hands grip the table behind you As he slowly parts your legs. Your hadn’t shaved in the 8 months & you should not be feeling aroused but feeling this hands even if through a glove on your thighs heading for your sex make you whimper. You can’t stop it escaping your mouth. You look up to the ceiling telling yourself in your mind that it’s just a usual strip search, but you’re also then thinking it’s Dave. & you know where those fingers have to go. Those fat delicious fingers.

His jaw tightens & hes trying to be calm. He has a job to do, he stands there looking at it. That perfect little cunt, that was so tight for him, that made him feel so good. What he does next is instinctive.

You hear the spit & you gasp. He’s got moisture on his gloves & your eyes bolt open even before he gets close & you look down at him.

“Let’s at least make this comfortable for your” it’s a steal line delivery. You see the spit in the black gloves as he spreads your open. You try to stay silent but your can’t. You moan. Three fingers slip inside your pussy, curling up, stroking your walls. Your body has missed this sensation from anyone, but to get it here when you can’t say no from Dave, your walls contract.

“Fuck” you pant as he softly moves around. He’s trying to keep his mind in the job but he can’t. Your hips are moving, he can sense the arousal that will be covering his gloves. He should withdraw them now, he knows your cunt has nothing inside it but he’s here, a few more pulses to make your feel good won’t hurt. He thrust his fingers in a few more times. Your toes curl.

“Fuck Dave”

“Sir”

“Fuck Dave Sir” you whine. He tries to cough over his laugh but you hear it. You then moan at the loss of being filled before his hands grip you & spin you around, you bend over the table you know what’s coming, & you know this is the best position for this professionally & sexual. Dave does the exact same inspection on your arse hole. You stand on your tip toes trying to not moan, wondering if he would take you from behind. You are breathless when his fingers come out. He looks at the mess of your privates, clearly aroused, your sex dripping, your arse puckering. He takes his gloves off & tosses them into the pile. He’s feeling his trousers tighten, but he knows he can’t or shouldn’t. Not when you’re so vulnerable. He sighs & shakes his head.

“On the chair” again more demands. You pull yourself off the table & sit down. Your hands in your lap to cover your modesty, which even if you didn’t have much to start with has now been completely stripped away. He drags the other chair over & sits on that. Your head was lowered but he’s lifted it up with his fingers. “Cavity check” he says & you open wide. Dave then inspects every tooth to check there’s nothing unusual, except for the back molar with the suicide pill. Standard issue for special ops. He sighs when he’s done & you close your mouth.

“All clean” he state & you let out a big sigh of relief. You look propely into his deep brown eyes for the first time since he started getting intimate with this strip search. He also lets out a sigh before saying “good girl”. Before then standing up abruptly & marching towards the door. He pounds it 3 times & is delivered some clothes moments later that he put on the chair he had sat on.”For you, for protocol” he says seriously.

“Yes sergeant” you reply & you see Dave twitch. Clearly he likes it when you say that. You try to not make it too obvious that you know he likes that. He always liked it when you called him by his rank. “Problem sergeant?” You ask, his face is flustered & blushing, he gulps, his Adam’s Apple quivering. Dave clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His hands twitch at his sides, like he’s not sure whether to fold them behind his back or shove them in his pockets. You’ve never seen him this flustered before. The temptation to lick your lips is growing.

“There’s no problem,” he says, though his voice betrays him, a slight waver in his usual authoritative tone. He lifts his chin, trying to regain some composure, but his blush is still there, creeping past his collar.

“Good. I’d hate to think I’d done something to rattle you, sergeant.” You smirk as you say the line, before moving your hands to your side. Your legs do part but it’s a clear sign to Dave of your intentions. His jaw tightens, & for a moment, you think he’s about to rebuke you, to remind you of protocol, but instead, he exhales sharply through his nose. His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity there that wasn’t present a moment ago.

“You’re pushing it,” he murmurs.

“Am I?” You start to twist your hair with one hand as the other trails down your body, to that place he wishes to plunder, your voice softer now. Teasing. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sergeant.”His breath catches. Just slightly. But you hear it.You shouldn’t enjoy this as much as you do, but there’s something about watching Dave, from memory he was Always so composed, so in control, but now fall apart under the weight of something unspoken between you.For a long moment, neither of you moves or speaks. The air is thick with tension, the kind that crackles like a live wire.

And then, finally, he speaks.

“Fuck you” he shouts & the kicks over the chair & marches over to you. His face is like thunder. As red as a strawberry that’s about to burst. But his eyes are wide & filled with desire. Those heavy boats stomp over to you & he gets to you then grabs you around the throat. You gasp & your legs part.

“Wanna play it that way darling?” He questions “want a proper search? Want to be properly violated?” His grip is harder, you gasp but croak the words out.

“Yes sergeant” you lick your lips. Suddenly his spare hand is down your throat attacking the gag reflex. You splutter.

“You don’t just obey, or eat or sleep when I say” he snarls forcefully removing his fingers which now drip in saliva. “You also don’t cum until I say you can” your cunt quivers just thinking of that.

“Yes sergeant” there’s no pleasantry’s. Those sodden fingers are thrust inside you. You go to gasp but can’t make a sound as he kisses you in a frenzie, not waiting for permission. His tongue being more thorough than he was earlier with the inspection. Only breaking to spit in your mouth & then continue again. Moans escape you when you have a chance to breathe. Over stimulation is happening. Your clit, so neglected over the last few months. This fat thumb making sure it experiences the pleasure it deserves.”so fucking needy” he says but doesn’t return to kissing you. He’s concentrating on his rhythm, while those eyes burn a hole into your skull, they are filled with lust.

“We’re gonna count down from 5 & on 1 you’re gonna cum” he says & you pant but don’t reply.”answer me god damn in” he grips your neck a bit more. Your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

“Yes sergeant” it’s a whimper.

It’s the slowest count down you’ve ever heard but as soon as Dave mumbles 1 which is just audible you combust. Drenching his hand, squirting, your slick coating your thighs, pubes & the chair beneath you. Your whole body trembles. You had little time on your 8 months mission for self pleasure, so this feels like an ungodly power to suddenly have. To find that release of ecstasy.

“Good girl” he says before removing his fingers & sucking two clean before letting go of your neck & slipping the two sodden fingers in your mouth. “Forgot your cunt tasted this good” he says & then tuts. “But look you’ve made a mess,” he shakes his head sarcastically. He then grabs the hem & pulls off his green T-shirt. Every muscle defined. A few scars from past missions but other than a small trail of hair going from his belly button to where was now tight, he looks spectacular. You lick your lips, still tangy from the cum. “Like what you see” he says has he undoes his belt before lifting you up. Your naked body pressed against his bare torso. He feels firm, your hand automatically glides down his body. Over those abs, down the happy trail & into his trousers, gently tugging his penis once you’ve made contact. He closes his eyes & groans, his face full of want & need. To have this cunt once more. He then remembers he’s meant to be calling the shots & pulls your hand out of his trousers. “Who gave you permission?” He says sternly.”I could have you suspended for sexual harassment?” He says coldly as he unzips his fly.

“I could say the same Dave” he raises an eyebrow as you say this before he lifts you up & plonks you on the table. You lie down already a mess but waiting for pleasure to consume you.

“Didn’t hear you complaining 5minutes ago?”

“& you shouldn’t have got me aroused during the strip search”

“Do you always answer back?”

“Yes” you say forcefully “you always liked the challenge back in the day”

“Yes I did” his trousers & boxers pool on the floor & he kicks them away. He strokes his length a few times before pulling you near the edge of the table. He licks his lip as he rubs his length against your dripping cunt. “& I know you liked it hard & fast”

“Yes…. Oooooh fuck” no words are needed, he’s not even slowly edged in. You’re filled to the brim. He’s so girthy, so big, bigger then you remember. Your whole body judders in delight as the special spot it already being hit.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans on the second thrust. “So fucking tight” his large hands grasp at your flesh. His hips already moving at a rapid pace. “best cunt” his eyes close & he rolls his head before they blister open as you moan.

“Fuck Dave more more” his eyes bolt open

“Needy little whore”

“I’m in need of a good fuck”

“Are you?” He leans over & grips your neck again. “Well it might be quick, but I’ll have you wishing for a special strip search every day” the grip is tighter around your neck. You sit up a little trying to get air into your lungs. Your thighs turn to jelly, your pussy contracting. Pleasure hits you with each thrust as Dave increases his movements. The sweat dripping off him more precious than water in the desert. He’s glorious. The intense eye contact & tension in a room filled with wants & moaning as you both give into your lust. You know you could both be in huge trouble for this. Dave would be much more fucked over than you but all the while he is fucking you, he doesn’t care. He is enjoy each contractions inside you, your cunt gripping around him. He’s looking as your eyes glaze over. He listens intently each time you say fuck. It makes his heart leap & makes him thrust more. He’s at one with you like this is the last time he will fuck anyone. He doesn’t break the eye contact until he can feel your own rhythm change.

“Usually I’d be more dominant” he grunts, feeing his own release coming”but I want you to cum for as long as you can” he looks down at his penis which is sodden. “Cum for me, cum for daddy” you don’t deny him. You see all the stars as you let go. Your body feeing like it’s on fire in a good way, every nerve tingling, a release like no other.

“Fuckkkk” you scream. “Yes yes yes” that sets Dave off. A couple of seconds & thrusts later & he can’t hold back. He quickly withdraws knowing he wasn’t using a condom & ropes off his cum cover your torso. White & sticky. He closes his eyes as he jerks it all out.

“Oooh yes sweetheart yes” it splatters as he mumbles, before he then grips the table so he doesn’t fall down. You lay there completely spent, panting. Feeling more on edge that you had for the mission. You dare not move. You close your eyes & try to calm down.

You suddenly feel something damp & wet grace over your sex. Not again you think but also secretly wanting more. Dave had got a cloth to clean you up. Being delicate with those large hand that had been choking you only minutes ago.

“Dave” you whisper. He pauses & then looks softly at you.

“Yes”

“I’m guessing this goes no further”

“Yes” he says & he then throws the cloth in with the clothes that are to be destroyed & looks at you. Memorising every inch of you, from your horrible scars to your beautiful brown eyes. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you delicately. This was the Dave you remember from the past, you cup his face, as you let his tongue dance with yours & you both moan, as you move closer together. Your hand runs down his back & squeezes his bum. He lets out a soft giggle. “& it’s sergeant” he says with a wink. He then steps away & starts to redress as you put on the new clothes he got you.

“Yes sergeant” you reply. As you fasten the last button on your shirt, you glance up at him, watching as he adjusts his belt & straightens his tshirt with practiced precision. The air between you still hums with the heat of your lust, but the moment is already slipping away, replaced by the weight of unspoken rules and the reality of your situation.Dave clears his throat, his expression unreadable once again.

“You stay here until you receive the all-clear. Shouldn’t be long.” You nod, shifting on your feet, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you still feel despite the fresh clothes. He notices, of course he does he’s Dave York, but says nothing. Instead, he steps towards the door, his hand resting on the handle before hesitating.

“What else am I gonna do Sergeant” you hear him sigh softly.

“I dunno, but I know you’ll be good to go soon”& then he’s gone, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts & the lingering taste of him on your lips.

6 days later you’re released. Your mission a success, your superiors proud & the strike was hit with precision. You know you have served your country & the world well.

As you cross the tarmac to get onto a plane, you are a different person to the girl who arrived at this outpost. Shiny prestige uniform, a hair cut, clean, well fed, you feel more like you again, ready to head back home. As you walk, you hear your name being called. You stop & remove your aviators, your uniform & medals as perfect as they can be. A far sight from the girl who arrived at this outpost a week ago. Fast walking towards you is Dave, with a little book in his hand.

“Sergeant” you say wondering if he will call you by your new rank.

“Major” he says & you try not to laugh & look smug. He salutes you with the gesture you both used to do, as you are now higher ranking than he is. “This is yours” he says. You grab the book wondering if it was from your mission, but it isn’t. It’s the little note book he packed. A note book you both used in training years ago. Worn & damaged over the years. “It was always my intention.” He gulps Looking awkward, scuffing his shoes on the ground…”to return this to you but you were off on your own missions when I returned from mine & so I kept it upon one’s self, just so then I knew part of you was always safe” he lifts his head bashful, the dominant man drifting away to show his own vulnerability “…so that you were always with me”

You turn the book over in your hands, the faded cover rough beneath your fingertips. Flashes of the past come rushing back, late-night study sessions, scribbled notes in the margins, inside jokes no one else would understand. You swallow, caught between the weight of nostalgia & the gravity of the moment.Dave had always cared.

“You kept this all these years?” you murmur, flipping through the pages, the ink smudged but the words still clear. Dave shrugs, his usual confidence faltering.

“Yeah… figured you might want it back one day.”He try’s to bluff. It had meant something all those years ago. You look up at him, studying his face, the same, yet different. Older. Wiser. Just like you. The silence lingers between you, thick with unspoken words. You should say something meaningful, something to acknowledge everything this gesture carries. Instead, you offer him a small smile.

“Thanks, Sergeant York,” you say simply. He exhales, almost relieved, & nods.

“Anytime, Major.”

With a final glance at him, you tuck the notebook into your jacket & turn towards the plane. Your heart wanting to leap out of your chest & Wishing you could give all this up to be with him.

He made you who you are & you made him into the sergeant standing a few feet behind you wondering if he should join you. His thoughts betraying him.

As you reach the stairs on the plane you hear that familiar tone.

“Wait…”

You pause & smile.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[sga-owns-my-soul]

Pls don’t take this the wrong way i actually love multishipping but I’m genuinely wondering if there’s anyone you don’t ship?

rodney and jennifer 😂 although i think if jennifer's character was written to be an actual character instead of The Hot Trophy For Rodney i probably would've liked the ship way more, but as it is they don't even seem to like each other???? also unless it's in the context of ot4 i can't do john/teyla idk why i don't know what it is (especially since john is such a slut and so easy to ship with anyone????) but it just feels very Wrong to me idk

all that being said tho all it takes is the right headcanon or fic/idea to get me obsessed with a ship so who knows maybe one day i'll ship mckeller and john/teyla!

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[rodismancave]

.

[rafecameronssl4t]

omggg I have oneeee🤭

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FICS

so fmc is out with her bestfreinds, the kook boys- Kelce ,top and rafe for lunch and waiter Sofia attempting to flirt with rafe but our man only has eyes on his girl. ♥️ mc ends up teasing rafe after the incident cause of the attention he’s getting and rafe teasing her back asking her if she’s jealous hehe

Jealousy, Jealousy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: half of me feels bad about Sofia in these type of fics but remember Rafe wants YOU and ONLY you 😋

Warnings: nothing really :)

Word count: 836

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“She’s coming again,” Kelce muttered under his breath, nudging Rafe with a knowing smirk. Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, the annoyance evident in his tightened jaw. Topper chuckled, both he and Kelce watching as Sofia approached their table, her steps light and deliberate.

Her presence was unmistakable, and her eyes were locked onto Rafe. “Hey, anyone need another drink?” Sofia’s voice was bright and cheerful, but her gaze lingered on Rafe just a fraction too long.

He resolutely kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, focusing intently on a spot somewhere behind Kelce, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his attention.

Topper glanced at Rafe, sensing his discomfort, before answering for the group. “Nah, we’re all good here, thanks.” His tone was polite but firm. Sofia nodded, her smile unwavering. “All right, just let me know if you need anything.”

As she turned to leave, her eyes subtly drifted over Rafe, as if hoping for a reaction. Rafe’s frustration simmered just below the surface, and he couldn’t suppress a scoff. Fishing out his phone, he quickly texted you, his fingers tapping out the message with a mix of impatience and frustration.

From the moment they had arrived at the country club for lunch, Sofia had been constantly hovering around them, her attention mostly focused on Rafe. No matter how many hints he dropped about being content and committed to his relationship with you, she just didn’t seem to get it.

Rafe: When are you coming?

Y/n: In like 10 minutes!!!

Rafe let out a sigh of relief as he read your reply, his tension easing slightly. Shutting off his phone, he cast a hopeful glance towards the front entrance, silently wishing you would appear any second.

After about ten minutes, the front doors swung open, revealing you and Sarah. Engaged in lively conversation, the two of you walked through the entrance, laughter bubbling between you. Rafe’s face lit up at the sight, and he immediately stood up, making his way toward you with an eager smile.

As Rafe strode across the room, Sofia rounded a corner, her eyes lighting up as she saw him heading in her direction. “Hey, Rafe—” she began, her voice hopeful. But Rafe didn’t even glance her way, brushing past her without a second thought, his focus entirely on you. The smile on Sofia’s face faltered, her heart sinking as she turned to watch him.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe greeted you warmly, his hands finding their way to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. Sarah, standing beside you, rolled her eyes and let out a mock gag. “Jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head before wandering off to give you two some space.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Rafe’s affection and urgency. Pulling away slightly, you chuckled. “What was that for?” you asked, your eyes twinkling with amusement as he peppered kisses along your cheek.

“Nothin’, just missed you,” Rafe mumbled against your skin, his voice low and filled with sincerity. You couldn’t help but giggle at his tenderness, feeling warmth spread through you.

With his arm wrapped securely around your back, Rafe guided you towards the table where his friends were seated. As you approached, Kelce and Topper exchanged knowing looks, smirking at Rafe’s obvious delight. Sofia, now back behind the bar, watched from a distance.

“Thank God you’re here,” Topper quipped as you approached, a grin spreading across his face. “I thought Rafe’s jaw would break from all the clenching he’s been doing.” You raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Rafe, who was pointedly looking away. “Why? What happened while I wasn’t here?” you asked, chuckling.

“Sofia’s what happened,” Topper continued, and your confusion deepened. “Seems that pogue’s got a thing for your man here.” Rafe let out a scoff. “You think? She could barely keep her eyes off me.”

You glanced back at Sofia, who quickly looked away when your eyes met. “She kept looking at you, did she?” you asked, your arm protectively wrapping around Rafe’s neck. He smirked, enjoying your reaction.

“Aren’t you popular with pogues these days, hmm?” you teased, giving Rafe a playful nudge. He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Mhmm, you jealous, baby?” Rafe asked, his tone light and teasing.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “‘M not,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re mine anyways,” you shrugged, feeling his smirk against your skin as his hand came up to rest on your hip. “Always,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

[ijustbewriting]

A man who yearns is a man who earns

Wolfstar X fem!reader

Summary - In which Remus and Sirius quietly ( not really) yearn for the reader

Warnings : none, (delusional Sirius), shy reader I guess

A//N My first Wolfstar fic !

Word count: 1.2k

“ I want her so bad” Sirius groans softly watching as you laugh along with Lily and Marlene. Remus who had been reading had promptly stopped as he had watched his boyfriend look at the girl who they had both been crushing on as of late. You were in the same year as them, a beautiful and smart Ravenclaw who just so happened to waltz in the boys life and change them forever.

“If you keep starting at her she’ll think you’re a creep” Remus tells his boyfriend

“She’ll think about me !” Sirius gasps, Remus shakes his head at his gasp

“ You really need to stop”

“Why won’t she look at us “ Whines Sirius sitting next down next to Remus who was quick to wrap his arm around his waist and pull him closer.

“Don’t know love” He plants a kiss on his neck making Sirius shiver.

“Do you think she even knows our names” The young Gryffindor pouts.

In all honesty Y/N did know Remus and Sirius, how could she not? The famous group, the marauders. Known for pulling pranks and bringing fun to Hogwarts, it was hard to miss such a group.

Remus and Sirius especially, god were they gorgeous. Remus with his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to be lit by the sun itself, his curly hair that was always curled to perfection, his old soul which was so kind and oh Merlin’s beard was he so smart. The few classes she had with him where she would hear him answer the professors question’s correctly and even sometimes add even more information made her Ravenclaw heart swoon.

Sirius Black, oh Sirius Black. He captivated everyone’s heart. His unique grey eyes and long hair, and that smile. That Sirius Black smile. Charming is what he is, suave with his words having anyone flustered and blushing when Sirius would flirt with them. Everyone wanted him or wanted to be him. But only Remus Lupin was lucky enough to have a slice of whatever Sirius was offering but god did he want top give a piece to you.

You the beautiful creature who captured their hearts when Lily walked into the common room that fateful day. You both were working on a project for Potions. Both of them were awestruck by you. Swearing they had never seen someone as beautiful as you. They knew then and there that they wanted you, the question was how?

It seemed like any time that they wanted to see you, you were scurrying away, off to the library, your dorm or somewhere else where they could not reach you.

One time when Sirius was walking with James after heading back from quidditch practice. Then a sudden figure zoomed right past them, it was you. Sirius blinked and he turned to look at you as you left, he wanted to say something but by gods were you quick. As you turned the corner and disappearing from his sight he promptly fell to his knees.

“Come back my love PLE-“

As you had turned the corner, you stopped swearing that you had heard something

“Must of been the wind” you muttered to yourself.

It was not in fact the wind but none other than Sirius Black dramatically on his knees clutching his chest, the other hand reaching out for you.

“Mate get up this is embarrassing” James muttered

Truth is- you’re painfully shy. Having a crush on Remus Lupin and Sirius Black the it couple right next to Lily and James was painful, for so many reasons. One being the most obvious, they’re both together and you were no home wrecker. Two you could not imagine even being friends with them. They were so different from you, in a good way.

While you were more quiet and reserved, staying in your dorm to read and study. You enjoyed your me time more than anything. Parties at Hogwarts were something you rarely attended, given the fact that you didn’t drink or dance. The few times you did go was because a friend’s or Lily had dragged you. You would see both boys at these parties and they were the life of the party there was no way they would look over at you and want you, at least that’s what you’ve told yourself thus far.

It was far from the truth. Remus and Sirius both yearned for you silently or at least remus did, Sirisu was alwasy loud about those he cared about.

But enough was enough, both of them decided that they were going to get your attention one way or another.

As you exited you class, you sighed as you slinged your bag on your shoulder, the bag was heavy a reminder of all the homework you had to do.

"Ok I finish reading chapters one through twenty and then I can start my essay and give my self enough time-" you muttered to yourself but promptly stopped as your eyes landed on two figures. Remus and Sirius. Quickly and without blinking you turned your heel and began to walk the other way.

"No wait- hold on love" you heard Sirius voice as he catched up to you, now this is the one time you cursed Sirius and Remus's great hieght becasue with a couple of strides they had already caught up to you.

"Dove please" Remus said almost pleadingly. The nickname made you stop walking. The boys both next to you.

"Merlin's beard, your worse than a snitch, I don't even think James would be able to catch you" Sirius huffed in light laughter, Remus smiled soflty.

"We've been looking for you " said Remus

"You have?" you responed in a quiet voice

"yes love, for what feels like an eternity-"

"two months" Remus corrected

"felt like forver to me" huffed Sirius his lips almost pouting

"what for?" you ask

"well we wanted to ask you something actually" Remus started

"We want you so bad" blurted Sirius, now that made you completely freeze up.

"Sirius we said we were going slow" hissed Remus, swatting his partner gently on the shoulder.

"I can't- this will not be a slow burn love, I will not allow it" He shakes his head before grabbing your hand.

"Love, please we've been going crazy without you, you drive us insane and we want you in all ways possible, please let us treat you right, we won't ever hurt you and your days will be filled with love and passion-"Sirius's love declaration was cut of by his boyfriend.

"Pads you're scaring her" He says as he had been wacthing your reaction and it was all wide eyed and he wore you had stopped breathing for a moment. Sirius quickly shut up, the quickest Remus had ever seen him. After a moment of silence you finally spoke.

"You want me- you both want me ?" you sputtered finally breathing again

"Most ardently" Remus answered. You look between both boys, whom you've had been crushing onf for so long, who you had never ever in your life believed that they would ever look at you in that way but here they were. Sirius basically on his knees begging you to talk and Remus with his beautiful eyes asking, no pleading for a positive response. You drew in a deep breathe before answering.

"I want you guys too" You confess

"Praise Merlin and David Bowie she said yes Remus!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Yes I heard her love thank you" chuckled Remus who was now looking you fondly. Sirius who was still holding your hand gave it a small squeeze.

"Did you hear how Remus pulled a Mr. Darcy on you "

[hueseok]

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move. 

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation. 

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did. 

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth. 

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled. 

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of. 

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up. 

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[aklaustaleteller]

Might Fancy You

Y/n went from fearing Klaus, to studying in his studio, to then throwing Shakespeare insults at him while chasing after him to put paint on him; he'd started it. But what happens when she ignores his one warning and he has her cornered in a flash?

Warnings - few mentions of blood and some kissing.

Word Count - 1.8k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

I told you I'll have part two out in two days and here it is! You can read part one here, and well, I hope you enjoy both the parts!

“And you are?” Elijah asked the girl standing in the doorway of the mansion, clutching onto so many things that he worried all of it was going to fall out of her trembling hands any time now. 

“Um, I’m here to meet Klaus?” She said, an awkward smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “He’s helping me with an art project,” she continued when the original didn’t say anything.

But he did raise an eyebrow at that, making her even more nervous and bunch up her shoulders in a defensive shrug. “You know what? I’ll just leave,” her voice made a few tumbles as she turned around and began walking out the door she’d just come in. Her guard was high up because she had no reason to believe that this vampire wasn’t going to drain her of blood then and there for stepping onto his property without any permission. 

“Y/n!” She heard a voice call out and she flinched, her heart trying to make up for the missed beat and speeding up as a result. 

“Y- yes?” She stuttered, slowly turning to face him, fearing what’s to come. How stupid had she been to ask a goddamn original to help her out with some- some school work! 

“What did you say to her, Elijah?” Klaus glared at his brother on seeing his new friend so shaken up.

Elijah only turned towards him in a slight confused daze. “I simply asked her who she was,” he said, walking away from the scene to probably his reading chair, leaving as nonchalantly as he could’ve killed her. 

A smile creeped up on Klaus’ mouth, a chuckle rumbling inside his chest at how easily she’d been frightened. It was almost bordering on endearing. 

“C’mon love, follow me,” he urged her as he walked up the stairs, coming to halt when he didn’t hear her move. “Y/n?” he called her, looking back at her from midway up the stairs. and coming to a realisation that she might genuinely be scared of him. 

“I think I’ll go,” she said, looking very close to passing out. “Forget I asked you for anything.” She didn’t even look him in the eyes and turned back around to leave and get away from this mansion as fast as she could.

But of course, Klaus stood in front of her just as she turned, almost sending her heart flying out of her mouth. It was strange, to witness this completely new side of the girl who ferociously bit right back at him the most creative insults he’d ever heard in his long life.

“Why are you so suddenly terrified of me?” Klaus asked, his face creasing in confusion as his eyes showed her specks of hurt that could very well just be the mossy-green of his eyes deceiving her. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know maybe the sense that you’re an original who could rip me to shreds or drain me of all my blood right here,” she stopped herself like she’d done something insanely stupid and – ”finally knocked at my brain,” she trailed off very softly, almost as if cautious of making him angry.

“Y/n- love, you know I’d never do that,” he mumbled, cupping her face and almost flinching when she went stiff. “I mean I could do that but I never would!” he reframed his sentence when she narrowed her eyes, for some reason, desperate that she understood him.  

“What do I have to believe you wouldn’t?” 

“Because I do not have any reason to,” Klaus reassured her, not saying that maybe because he fancied her a little, just because this wasn’t the ideal moment for a confession like that. 

Y/n didn’t say anything at that. Standing still and looking into his eyes, searching his face for any signs of underlying betrayal but she didn’t find any – not that she expected to, he is a thousand years old after all, surely he’d know how to disguise his motives.

And yet, when Klaus grasped her arm and led her up the stairs, she let him. 

“I see you brought all of your stuff,” Klaus chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood as he took a million things out of her hold, placing it all on the rug and smiling when he saw her setting up the canvas for him. He could get used to this very easily. 

“I did, it’s my work you are doing after all,” she said softly, slowly coming out of her shell. “I didn’t want you to waste your supplies on it,” she continued. 

“I wouldn’t say this is wasting anything,” Klaus proposed, thinking that maybe this would be the topic for their discussion today, slight banter even? 

“I wouldn’t either,” she agreed with him, catching him a little off guard. “But the school people will tear this apart and throw it in the trash before I could ever get to it.”

Klaus shook his head at that, preparing the paints and the brushes. “And why would you want to get to it?”

Y/n had managed to make herself comfortable on the floor a couple feet away from him, her papers already scattered on the floor of his studio,  and Klaus only hoped that they could do this more often after this day.

“Well, I wouldn’t want it go to waste… you see? Maybe hang it somewhere in my house when it’s purpose in school is served,” she shrugged nonchalantly, taking the cap off of a pen by her mouth and Klaus wanted nothing more than to rush over to her and cup her face to kiss her. 

Which reminded him that she was quite fastly transitioning back to her usual self around him. He smiled at that, the scary thrill in his heart that had come at the thought of her fearing him slowly fading away. 

Neither of them said anything after that, getting to their individual works in silence. The soft sounds of Klaus’ brush against the canvas, mixing colours on his palette and rinsing the brush rid of the previous colours filled the room along with sounds of Y/n flipping her book, turning the pages in notebooks and changing pens. 

The sun peeked in through the windows, the lighting constantly changing as the clouds drifted calmly through the sky. 

While painting, Klaus began to worry about this girl who was so engrossed in her homework that she hadn’t moved once. He worried that she’d gotten so serious and quaint that she might just tumble into sadness. All that to say, he missed her laugh a little as well.

He tuned to just look at her while he was sure that she was unaware. Her hair was tied up, circular glasses that had a coppery rim slipping lower and lower on the bridge of her nose until she had to fix them. She looked cute, Klaus caught himself thinking.

Her lips were resting in a faint pout as she focused, her fingers picking at them while she jottled down something in her notebook with her free hand. His hand ached to trace its fingers over the highs and the lows of her face. The little frown that had formed inbetween her eyebrows made her look all the more cute and Klaus found himself walking over to her, his feet functioning on a mind of their own. 

He bent down to come face-to-face with her as she was sitting, and he almost cooed at the fact that she still hadn't quite registered the close proximity at which he was in front of her. Raising up his hand, he booped her nose – getting the very reaction he was hoping for.

She looked up at that, slightly startled, only to catch Klaus’ eyes widening a little themselves. 

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh, because there was something…” he panicked, his eyes frozen on the spot he had gotten yellow paint on her nose. “I removed it though, don’t you fret,” he smiled, brushing over his pants as he began to stand up straight. 

But she passed him a glare then, clutching the bottom of his henley to stop him. “Klaus,” she began. “Did you remove something or put something there?”

He shrugged at that, focusing back on the canvas and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her getting up. 

“Klaus.” She said his name with an underlying warning. She brushed her own finger over the very spot he had touched, and saw the paint.

“Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once a while, but you really abuse the privilege,” she was walking closer to him and Klaus knew exactly what was about to commence, making him cover his head with his arms when she pressed her hand against the paint on the palette. 

He howled with laughter when she dragged her hands across his neck, twisting and turning to get away from her. Still laughing at the insult she threw at him because it was a bloody good one, Klaus swiped his finger across her collarbone, earning a whine from her as she began chasing him around the studio. 

Stopping to catch her breath, she began shouting at him – “thou crusty batch of nature!” But laughter slipped past both of their mouths before they could even contemplate what she’d just said. 

“No way you just threw a Shakespearree insult at me,” Klaus laughed, standing on the complete other side of the room, opposite to her.

He feigned a growl when she began walking towards him, red paint almost drying on her palms. “Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Klaus whispered loud enough for her to hear. 

And she ignored his warning, just like he was hoping she would. Watching her creep up closer and closer to him, Klaus felt a smirk pull up a corner of his lips. 

In a flash, Klaus had her pinned against a wall, her wrists held above her head in his hands. His face tilted to the side lightly, his eyes focused on her mouth as he felt her gaze on him heating up her skin. She tipped her chin forward, her lips not quite meeting his’, making him close the gap between them and connect their lips. 

Lips moving in a perfect sync, Klaus brought one of his hands down to snake it around her waist, her mouth opening with a gasp at the sensation and giving him the chance to kiss her further. The back of her head met with the wall behind her as they kissed with a passion that felt too heated. 

Detaching their mouths, both of them took in heaves of breath, Klaus pecking her lips once more before releasing her wrists. She was looking into his eyes, searching them for something and Klaus couldn’t help but smile at her, her lips very lightly swollen, looking like they’d just been kissed. 

“Think I might fancy you a tad,” he grinned, laughing out loud when she grabbed his face to kiss him again, making him lose his balance only for a second before he was cupping her face ever so gently.

"Never realised I wanted to hear you say it so much,” she let slip a breathy chuckle, looking into his eyes before kissing his lips once more. Lord, it was addictive – he was addictive. 

[coffee-and-geto]

“WILL MY EXQUISITE MORTAL LET ME BE HER FIRST BITE?”

“I can’t give you an Edward Cullen but I can be the vampire of your fantasies. So will you accept me, my love?”

pairing: vampire! suguru geto x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: it is at tokyo university, during a foggy month of october, with a soft, chilling rain falling drearily, that autumn gloomily settles over all the students. you are a biology student — a true passion for you. but aside from the precious time you spend with your eye glued to a microscope, observing cells, your nightly dreams of a noble vampire whisking you away from this life to spiral with you in a bewitching dance — much like edward cullen would — seem to be coming true. especially when your new lab partner, suguru geto, appears to be anything but one of the common folk…

warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, AU no curses, suguru and reader are students in biology, some scenes are inspired from the volume 1 of the twilight saga, dark academia vibes (kinda), fall mood, slight angst, gojo and choso makes an appearance, gojo is also a vampire, friends to lovers, suguru is a gentleman, human/vampire relationship, nightmare, mention of alcohol (it’s beer), blood sucking, handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), cowgirl, overstimulation, sex (p in v), oral (f + m), blood kink (well, i think so...), voice kink.

wc: 10,759 (i’ve missed writing long fics haha)

A mortal life can be so dull, can’t it?

While vampires, they get to live eternally, without worrying about time or dying. Not only are they blessed with breathtaking beauty, but they’re also quick, with vision sharper than an eagle’s, and they remember forever what they read.

That would come in handy for many, wouldn’t it, dear reader?

Or maybe, having a vampire boyfriend, like in books and series? Is it always asking for too much…

“You’re reading Twilight?”

The question, almost whispered near your temple, makes you jump on the bench in the lecture hall where you’re sitting, and you nearly drop Volume 1 of your favorite vampire saga. His breath is icy, enough to send a chill of goosebumps over the entirety of your skin. At least, October’s biting wind has a rival…

You quickly look up at a student around your age, who sits in the seat next to you, a smirk stretching across his perfectly thin lips. The beauty of this stranger becomes blinding.

Is such supernatural beauty even allowed?

With long strands of black hair brushing his shoulders, alabaster skin, deep obsidian eyes, and a physique perfectly balanced between lean and muscular, your mouth falls open in indiscreet amazement. And he has probably noticed, as the corner of his mouth stretches even further.

He knows he’s beautiful. Is he using it to his advantage? You half hope he is.

“Yes,” you answer simply, your eyes still fixed on him as he pulls out his things. “You recognized it?”

He raises an amused eyebrow. “A classic of vampire literature, isn’t it? How could I not?”

His remark warms your heart in a strange way. “Oh, I don’t know. I rarely meet guys who’ve read the same books as me.” Your gaze drifts over the lower rows of the lecture hall. “I expected you to bring up the movies.”

“I did watch the movies, but I read the books first. You know what they say about that.” His velvety tone draws your attention, and surprisingly, his gaze remains fixed on you.

There’s this light that animates his irises — like a smile.

“Is that why you took biology classes?” he continues, breaking your silence. You furrow your brows. “I mean, it’s the place where Bella and Edward first meet, right?” He chuckles at your still-confused expression. “In a biology class,” he clarifies.

And he laughs when the lightbulb in your mind finally goes on.

His laugh is so soft, almost musical and enchanting. A lullaby that pleasantly tickles your ears, drawing you in.

“So, you like vampire stories? Perfect for October,” he adds.

You study the flawless features of his face and almost forget to answer him. “Uh, yes. It’s one of the first romances I read when I was young. I reread it every year, like a tradition.”

“Oh, then I’m dealing with a real fan! Maybe you’re waiting for your vampire?” His teasing tone stings, making your cheeks blush adorably.

“What? No, I never said that!” you protest.

Once again, he bursts out laughing, this time so openly that you can see all his perfectly aligned white teeth — one detail you can’t ignore.

His canines are slightly sharper than average. They have their charm, certainly, but that doesn’t stop the strange feeling that there’s nothing ordinary about him.

No, you’re not delusional enough to think he could actually be a vampire (that only happens in books, come on!), but still, why not imagine it? His beauty, however, remains anything but normal.

In the end, as you join in his contagious laughter, you can’t help but think that maybe this new October will be a little more special than the previous ones and a little less lonely.

~~~~

By the end of the day, you at least managed to get a name — Suguru Geto.

Does a man who monopolizes your attention also have to be blessed with such a lovely name?

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

The familiar tone tickles your ears the next day, but you don’t look up right away, preferring to wait for him to set down his things and prepare himself, just as you are, for the practical biology class (the one that usually takes place in the lab).

You lift your nose from yesterday’s book and glance at the window, where a thin stream of sunlight slips through the glass to warm the surface of the floor. “It’s rare for October,” you comment nonchalantly.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he replies sarcastically, quickly slipping on his white lab coat. His long strands of black hair brush against the pristine white fabric with elegance. “You don’t like the sun?” A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as it twitches slightly.

“And you like it?” you retort, knotting your brows as your eyes rise to meet his.

“I hate it.”

You blink. “Didn’t you say it was a nice day?”

“I asked you if it was.” He chuckles softly. “If you’d breathe in something other than moldy paper…” He gestures at the yellowed pages of your book.

“Show some respect for my book.” You close it sharply and give Suguru’s shoulder a playful shove that barely registers, as if his muscles were made of stone.

“Good morning, class.” The voice of your professor cuts through just as you’re about to make a comment about it, and you quickly store your book in your bag.

For this biology class, a rather simple and classic experiment needs to be carried out in pairs using a microscope — a blood type test (ABO/Rh). Something fairly standard and easy to do. It reminds you of a scene from the first volume of the Twilight saga, and to say that you’re holding back from a mini-celebration would be an understatement, as everything seems perfect.

During the procedural steps of the experiment, you notice Suguru watching you, sitting on his wooden stool as you bring the needle close to the tip of your finger. “Aren’t you going to prick yourself?” you can’t help but ask.

Suguru shakes his head, swallowing. “I have a hard time with… blood.” He inhales and exhales lightly, as though something constricts him in his attempts.

“Oh, really?” You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Are you hemophobic?”

“Let’s… go with that,” he replies, his tone almost so dry and flat that you wonder where his cheerfulness from earlier has gone.

“So, you’re not really phobic?” you press, which elicits a small sigh from him that you notice despite its subtlety.

“It’s complicated to explain,” he says, his gaze lowering to the lab table legs. “I’ll just do the experiment with you.”

“But it’s graded,” you murmur. “Wouldn’t you rather we—”

“I know. The professor is aware, don’t worry,” he assures you through clenched teeth, scooting his chair back slightly from you and clearing his throat to stifle the metallic sound of the chair legs scraping the floor.

Of course, this doesn’t escape your notice. You even have half a mind to ask if he’s okay, but he cuts you off right before you can, making you almost want to shake him. “I’ll help you analyze your blood type; just let me know when to add the anti-A drops and—”

But before he finishes, you’ve already pricked your finger, and a large drop of blood is forming. The reddish liquid rolls down your fingertip like a tear, and you quickly place drops on the microscope slides.

Suguru stands up abruptly, and for a second, you think he’s going to rush over to draw some drops for the test, but he grabs his things instead and bolts out of the lab without a word.

In the room, no one — neither students nor the professor — seems to pay any attention to him.

You’re the only one left frozen, with drops of blood still trickling down your hand.

Wait, what just happened?

~~~~

During the rest of the week that follows, Suguru doesn’t show up to any classes. Not even the biology ones.

Confusion continues to hang around you, almost preventing you from enjoying a good night's sleep. He who seemed so charming and welcoming at first now seems to have pulled away all of a sudden.

Did you upset him by biting him without warning? He probably didn’t like that, but wasn’t it him who was behaving so strangely? It’s almost like he has bipolar behavior.

Sitting at the base of a solitary tree in your university courtyard, you’ve settled in to enjoy the grayish weather and the beauty of the autumn leaves swirling down onto the green grass by the pathways.

What perfect weather to study.

Fine raindrops fall here and there, but nothing to damage your belongings, or perhaps just enough to help you forget your sad heart. Of course, you barely know Suguru. He’s a student as ordinary as a gemstone in a river of pebbles. As normal as the beauty of a model and that of the one who foolishly stole your heart in less than 2000 words (you’re about there, dear reader). You’re just a fool. He doesn’t represent much aside from being beautiful.

And potentially liking what you read.

And maybe you’re also disappointed at the thought of having believed in a friend (a rare one, because yes, you certainly don’t have any).

And the possibility of spending the best season in the company of someone who might appreciate the same autumnal atmosphere as you.

The cold wind blows, sweeping your hair from your face over your shoulder, doing the same with a few pages of the textbook lying on the grass. You hold your copy of the Twilight saga close, the only thing that still connects you to Suguru, who has been missing for almost a week.

Too bad…

~~~~

The following week, to your surprise, as you take your usual seat in the biology lecture hall in the early morning, Suguru Geto quickly descends the steps and sits on the opposite side of the room.

The moment he walked through the doors, your eyes locked onto him and didn’t waver, but of course, he didn’t glance at you even once. So maybe you can give him the benefit of the doubt — maybe he didn’t see you.

But that doesn’t seem to be enough.

Not when, at the end of the lecture, he walks right past you to leave the room, making it all too obvious that he’s purposely ignoring you. He practically escapes from the lecture hall, walking so quickly that he leaves the crowd of students behind him.

He must be mad at you.

Well, so be it.

That’s what you tell yourself.

What you keep telling yourself.

And you keep repeating it, even as he sits with other students, one girl in particular giggling with him during class. A pang tugs at your heart. The same smile, the same eyes, but now directed at another girl. And even other guys. But it’s even more unbearable when it’s another girl.

Too bad...

So you wait through the following days, secretly hoping he’ll come over to you, but nothing. Then one Friday, just as all hope seems to have evaporated, your biology professor makes an announcement that makes you sincerely want to marry her.

“My dear students, it’s finally time for me to evaluate you on what counts most for me before midterms, and that’s your ability to work on a project, which you’ll hand in after some time,” she announces, her tone lightly enthusiastic, as if giving extra work could raise her salary. “I’ve already paired you up, with each group working on a different topic. The pairs and topics are already posted on the list I’ve sent to your emails via the course Canvas page.”

Within seconds, everyone in the lecture hall has their eyes glued to their phones, checking who their partner is. Cheers echo around you, with some students celebrating their familiar partners, while others are less pleased.

In your case, it’s your jaw that does the work, practically hitting the floor.

Your name right there, alongside his — Suguru Geto.

He’s the first person you look for, and you can’t deny a slight thrill of satisfaction.

Lower down in the hall, Suguru sits frozen, holding his phone, his shoulders tensed, likely processing the news about his partner. He shifts slightly after a few moments, and you can predict his movements with surprising clarity. The instant he begins to turn in what seems like your direction, you quickly avert your gaze, avoiding any — direct or indirect — confrontation with him.

The bell finally rings, and the students start packing up, barely listening to your biology professor’s reminders about the project’s due date.

You don’t linger either, hastily grabbing your bag, stuffing in your laptop and other things, eager to escape the room and avoid crossing paths with Suguru.

Just as you reach the middle of the courtyard, where rain pours down in relentless sheets, your name is called out despite the strong wind biting at your cheeks and bending nearby trees. The rain falls harder by the second, driving most students to seek refuge indoors, away from the dark gray sky and the downpour increasing in force and volume.

Despite the fierce wind and unending rain, your name is called out a second time as panic seizes you. A conflict arises within you. It’s Suguru’s voice ringing out miraculously above the “storm,” yet you still need to find shelter.

You keep walking, determined not to turn back. Your clothes are soaked, your skin chilled to the bone, and your hair plastered to your face. But no, you won’t turn back.

This time, your name is called so loudly and from so close that you startle, your previously squinting eyes now wide open. “Are you crazy? It’s pouring like a storm!” Suguru exclaims, wrapping his hand around your wrist to pull you toward the empty gazebo to shelter you both. You protest, pulling your wrist back in vain, but you have to admit it: Suguru’s grip is as solid as stone.

Both of you, soaked to the bone, stand under the gazebo as Suguru wrings out his jet-black hair, then immediately turns to face your shivering form. "Are you okay?" he murmurs softly, just as thunder rumbles in the distance. But it’s easy to read his lips.

You nod, averting your gaze. “What do you want?”

Suguru furrows his brows. “Originally, to talk about the project. But at this point, to keep you from throwing yourself at the storm!”

His words are so sarcastic that the two of you end up staring stupidly into each other’s wide, rain-dampened eyes, as droplets patter against the gazebo roof.

Then you both burst out laughing.

It doesn’t take long before you’re doubled over, tears welling up as laughter fills the air. The deep breaths and cold, ragged gasps that freeze your lungs mean nothing compared to this absurdly amusing moment.

When the laughter finally subsides and you’ve caught your breath, Suguru clears his throat. “Anyway, can I ask why you decided to challenge this storm when I was calling out to you?”

“Ask yourself,” you retort, the laughter vanishing from your face. “Weren’t you the one who left me mid-experiment and has been ignoring me ever since?” You pause, trying to keep your growing feelings hidden, as warmth rises to your cheeks. To cover it, you add, “And besides, I don’t owe you anything. You told me you’d arranged things with the professor.”

Suguru blinks twice in quick succession. “Did… that hurt you?”

You frown. “What? No, we barely know each other. That’s not what—”

He murmurs your name as a gentle warning, sending a shiver down your spine, then takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Answer me. Did it hurt you?”

You purse your lips, feeling embarrassed, but remain in stubborn silence.

Suguru sighs, then lowers his head toward you until his forehead rests gently on your shoulder. “Forgive me.”

“...What?”

“Forgive me,” he repeats. “I understand my mistake. I knew that leaving without an explanation would hurt you. But I didn’t think it would be even worse if I didn’t come to talk to you afterward. I thought… maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, and you’re left speechless at his words. “You have every right to be upset with me. It’s not fair.”

Suddenly, a clap of thunder booms, and you flinch in fright. Suguru instinctively places his hands around your elbows.

“Are you okay?”

You swallow, heart pounding. “Yes, I’m fine.” Suguru looks puzzled, his brow furrowing in response. “I mean,” you turn your face away, your cheeks aflame, “let’s just forget it happened. I’m not mad at you. Maybe I should have warned you I was about to prick my finger and—”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Suguru cuts you off softly, a worried crease forming between his brows. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t in the right mindset, and I panicked when I saw the blood. You have nothing to apologize for, please.” He uses the quiet moment to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen near your eyes behind your ear. “So… do you forgive me?”

Your eyes meet his again, and the warmth in them nearly overwhelms you. “...Yes.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” he whispers, grateful. Another silence lingers as he slowly releases his hold on your elbows. “So… are you up for the project?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve any more real blood,” you reply with a shy, half-smile.

“Promise, no more blood,” Suguru assures you, chuckling softly.

~~~~

“It’s actually pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, maybe not for our hands,” Suguru grumbles, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his fingers now stained red from the strawberry juice that’s seeped out.

“I actually like it,” you mumble, chewing on a strawberry used for your DNA extraction analysis — the topic of your shared project.

All of it comes from a strawberry, considering Suguru wasn’t keen on using mouth swabs, which was understandable.

“You’ve got juice all around your mouth,” he chuckles, amused by your bewildered and almost endearing expression. “Need some help?” He reaches out and gently wipes a red stain from the corner of your lips with his thumb.

You murmur a quick thank you, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly as he wipes his thumb with a tissue, then casually tucks it away in his pocket. With a quick glance at the clock on your living room wall, he comments, “You haven’t eaten dinner.”

“You mean we haven’t,” you correct him.

“No, I mean you haven’t,” he insists with that familiar little smirk. “And I’m suggesting we go out to eat.” He gets up from his chair in a fluid motion, heading toward the exit without waiting for a reply.

As he had intended, you soon find yourself seated at a cozy, discreet restaurant with soft, dim lighting. Suguru sits across from you, arms crossed over his chest, his torso leaning forward slightly.

“So? Did you decide?” he murmurs softly, a stray lock of his raven-black hair brushing his cheek, its tip just grazing his lips.

“Yes, I’ll go with this,” you show him, just as the server arrives to take your order with a polite smile. “What about you?”

“You didn’t choose a drink.”

“Oh, um, a Coke,” you reply, a bit caught off guard.

“Make that two Cokes, please,” he tells the server, who nods and leaves quietly. Suguru turns back to you. “I already paid the bill,” he adds as you open your mouth to speak.

“But you didn’t even know the price of what I’d order,” you protest, frowning.

“I left a tip just in case.” He grins.

Moments later, despite your ongoing complaints about his overly chivalrous gesture, the server places a steaming hot dish in front of you.

“Suguru…” you sigh.

“Eat,” he responds with his ever-present smirk, nudging the plate closer.

Seeing no other choice, you stab a piece of vegetable with your fork, chewing it with an exasperated pout.

Suguru’s grin widens until it reveals perfectly straight, white teeth, with canines just a bit sharper than average. If you let your imagination go, who wouldn’t think of a vampire? But you keep that thought to yourself and blink at Suguru, whose grin soon turns to laughter.

“What?” you ask, mouth still full.

“You look like an angry little chipmunk,” he laughs, covering his face with his hands to muffle his uncontrollable laughter as you swallow. His laugh is so warm, harmonious, and comforting that you can’t help but giggle along, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

“Stop,” you try to grumble, but the attempt only sharpens Suguru’s laugh, and soon both of you are swept up in uncontrollable laughter.

An hour later, you’ve finished your meal and your Coke — and even Suguru’s, who insisted he wasn’t hungry. It seemed odd, but his sincere smile reassured you. So you didn’t question it and asked him to wait outside while you made a quick stop in the restroom.

As you step out of the ladies’ room, two unfamiliar men block your way, stopping you from making a quick exit. You sigh discreetly, hesitant to say you’re in a hurry.

“Well, hey there, cutie,” growls one, a short, stocky guy.

“We saw you heading to the restroom all alone, thought you looked pretty cute,” adds his taller, leaner friend. “So if you’re interested, wanna spend the evening with us?”

Is this really Wario and Waluigi standing in front of you?

You swallow nervously. “Oh, sorry, I’m waiting for someone, so that won’t be possible,” you say politely, forcing a smile.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“My…” You search for the right words, even though the answer is obvious. “Friend.”

“Your friend?” the shorter man presses. “Maybe we could help you find him, huh? We’ve even got a nice car to take you in.” His smile reveals teeth stained dark by tobacco, sending a shiver of dread down your spine.

“I can find my own way, but thanks for the offer,” you say, taking a few steps to slip between the two men. “Have a good even—”

“Hold on there, not so fast!” the lean man cuts you off, any hint of friendliness gone in an instant. “Who said you could leave?”

The shorter man clicks his tongue in agreement, narrowing his eyes dangerously as your heartbeat races faster with panic. “Yeah! We need some company tonight, so you’re either coming with us, or else—”

“Or else what?”

Suguru’s hands rest firmly on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Suguru, you—” Just turning halfway and looking up, you recognize his unforgettable form, and your heart nearly stops.

“You okay, princess?” Suguru murmurs, his neck bent so close to your shoulder that he could practically nibble your neck or playfully bite your ear. One small nod from you is all he needs before he carefully releases you and positions his body as a shield between you and the two men.

Even from behind him, you can feel his chilling smile.

“Gentlemen, shall we continue this conversation outside?”

“Phew!” Suguru exhales, brushing off his hands as you both leave the restaurant ten minutes later.

“W-What happened to those two guys?” you can’t help but ask, trying not to shiver in the biting cold that hits you the second you step outside.

“Nothing special,” he answers vaguely, smoothly slipping off his sleek black leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders. It’s cold to the touch. “Put it on—I don’t want you catching a chill.” His minty breath brushes against your cheek.

“No need, really. It’s already very kind of you to—”

“Don’t thank me, alright?” Suguru opens the passenger side door of your car, gesturing for you to get in. And before you can protest, he hushes you. “Nope, I’m driving tonight.”

“Aren’t you overdoing the chivalry thing?” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you settle into the passenger seat while Suguru rests his hands on the wheel.

“Better too much than too little, right? You complaining, or am I imagining things?” he chuckles, and you sigh, rubbing your arms against the cold that his jacket doesn’t quite keep out. “You’re cold?”

You nod slightly, and he reaches for the heat controls at the same time you do, and for an instant, your hands brush against each other.

And a strange, unpleasant feeling washes over you.

Suguru pulls his hand back, looking tense and stiff, his gaze fixed intently on the road. You turn the heat up by yourself and sink into your seat.

“Your… hand’s freezing,” you murmur, daring only to glance at him with your eyes, not turning your head fully. “Are you sure you don’t want to take your jacket back?” He doesn’t answer.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, and you can’t shake the question of how a simple brush of hands turned the atmosphere so awkward. It feels as if the air has thickened, like molasses, making each breath slightly difficult.

Once you arrive in front of your house, you both step out of the car, and Suguru hands you your keys as you do.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he murmurs, matching his pace to yours.

You don’t respond, pulling your house keys out, but you don’t pay attention to the porch steps and stumble. In the next second, you blink.

You didn’t fall.

Two strong arms, heavy and solid as iron, hold you firmly in place.

“You alright?” Suguru’s eyes are fixed on yours, his face far too close, so close that all it would take is for you to lean forward to kiss him.

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you stammer, taken by surprise.

He steadies you back on your feet, his hand lingering around your waist to make sure you don’t stumble again.

Made of stone.

Suguru steps back, creating a respectable distance, while you fumble with your keys, your hands trembling slightly as you slip one into the lock.

“See you Monday?” you whisper, as though the night amplifies your voice.

“Monday, yes,” Suguru replies with a nod that seems almost… robotic.

~~~~

Two weeks later, neither of you had brought up any details about what happened — whether it was about the two men at the restaurant, Suguru’s icy hands, or his iron-like grip (and at this point, calling it iron was putting it mildly).

Now that you’re friends, it didn’t take long before you both started spending most of your free time together during the week — at the library, in the university courtyard, and sometimes even at cafés.

Your weekends often revolved around working on the DNA extraction project with strawberries, even though using cheek cells seemed more and more tempting. Why? Well, it fit perfectly into the human biology lessons in your course — even if the strawberries did the trick.

Naturally, you started learning more about each other — hobbies, music tastes — and, of course, books.

If there was anything that held you back from finding Suguru’s behavior odd at times, it was that day he sat beside you after a Sunday you’d spent chatting the whole afternoon away about your favorite books without making any progress on your biology project.

From Anne of Green Gables to Twilight, Dracula, Wuthering Heights, or Kafka’s works (Letters to Milena in particular), Suguru had brought every single copy he’d bought that Sunday evening and read them all overnight — something you’d thought impossible to read in such a short time, but Suguru assured you he reads very quickly.

So you believed him.

How could you not, when he found the best way to make your heart race by reading what you loved and showing up ready to discuss it all with you?

If that was his intent, then Suguru was indeed every bit the gentleman he thought himself to be.

“By the way, there’s a frat party happening soon. Are you going to come?” Suguru asks, his head bent over a DNA Ethics Guide textbook.

You’re both in the university library, as silent as a vampire’s heart. Ah, now you’re a poet?

You stop rummaging through your pencil case and glance up at him. “I don’t really know anyone, so—”

“Well, I do, so are you coming?”

You laugh nervously. “No, I don’t want to just crash the party; it’ll be awkward and—”

“I’ll be there, so it won’t be crashing,” Suguru insists, a slight smile playing on his lips as he looks up at you.

The sight takes your breath away.

“Will you let me finish my sentences, for goodness’ sake?” you retort, your cheeks flushing. You lower your eyes to your pencil case to avoid responding.

But his hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours to stop your movements. Your heart, already racing, skips a beat. “Come on, please? It’s not like I’m asking for a lot of favors.”

This time, it’s your whole body temperature that spikes — so much so that your hand, tangled with Suguru’s, becomes a little sweaty, and you gently pull it back toward you.

“I… I’ll think about it, okay?” you mumble, quickly rummaging to find your white-out for no reason and then using it on… absolutely nothing, really.

Because now you’ve forgotten what you were even looking for in your pencil case.

~~~~

“What about seven minutes in heaven?” Satoru Gojo proposes, a student with albino hair and cerulean blue eyes half-hidden behind useless round sunglasses, sporting a mischievous smirk.

“You suggest this every time!” Choso Kamo protests, the emo boy dressed in punk-style clothing, with messy black pigtails. He scrunches his nose in disapproval.

“But it’s the best,” Satoru counters.

The music blasts in every corner of the house where the frat party is taking place. Pink, blue, and fuchsia neon lights color the atmosphere, transforming every hue.

In one corner of the house, a circle has formed with Suguru’s friends. You all sit cross-legged, a few drinks nearby for refreshment, and you can’t help but think it’s one of the best ideas proposed since the beginning.

You’ve stuck close to Suguru since your arrival, which he couldn’t help but tease you about, provoking a blush that no one could see thanks to the neon lights. Plus, he kindly introduced you to his friends, all lovely and inclusive, never leaving you out. But if there was one goat — an animal very representative of him, by the way — among this flock of sheep, it was Satoru.

Outgoing by nature and quick to embrace any event that sparks even the slightest interest, he was the first to take you under his wing — all while Suguru watched cautiously — and show you everything you’d never dared to do at a party.

“What do you think of it, sweetheart?” Satoru whispers as the others debate the topic on their side (some for, others against).

You jump slightly, still not used to him addressing you with such open flirtation. “Um…” You clear your throat, squirming a little in your position. “I’ve heard of it, but what is it exactly?”

“You don’t know? Awww.” He leans in closer so that his lips reach your ear. “The goal of this game is to be locked in a room for seven minutes — a bedroom, a closet, whatever — and you can do whatever you want with the person who’s in there with you.” His breath is as cool as Suguru’s, and when Satoru pulls back, his face remains close to yours. His pale complexion reflects like an entity never seen before. “Clearer now, sweetheart?”

You swallow hard, nodding slowly. “And when you say they can do whatever they want… what does that include? Generally speaking, I mean,” you inquire, sensing a weighty gaze upon you but not knowing where it’s coming from.

Satoru closes the distance between you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Well, let’s just say most people kiss, sometimes make out,” Satoru confesses with a sly smile. His scent is as intoxicating as Suguru’s — just like his stone-like embrace. Satoru’s skin — especially his exposed forearms — feels like it’s at the same temperature as the ocean, yet it’s as if a warmth radiates from him regardless. “But…” he brings his lips close to your temple, making you shiver as your eyes scan around, briefly locking with Suguru’s intense gaze on you, “some people find time to go further, if you catch my drift.”

You choke on your own saliva at that moment, and Satoru bursts out laughing.

A few minutes later, a duo emerges from a broom closet, giggling like tipsy people, returning to the circle amid cheers from the others.

Satoru replaces the empty glass beer bottle to spin it in the center, pointing at his next victim — if you could say it like that, since you don’t seem very excited about the game.

And despite that, the wicked bottle stops, pointing its neck at you.

Goddamn it.

A knowing smile spreads across Satoru’s face — he glances mischievously in your direction before spinning the bottle again and quickly sitting back down.

With every turn, the speed used to spin it feels like this simple bottle holds a sentence. Your fate for the next seven minutes.

When it finally slows down and stops, to your greatest…

Relief?

… it points at Suguru.

Satoru pouts a little in disappointment and stands up along with both of you to escort you to the closet, amid cheers of encouragement from the group.

Suguru catches up with a few quick strides, just to whisper to you, “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, okay? Just let me know because—”

Satoru cuts him off by shoving you tightly into the narrow broom closet and locking you inside. “And… the countdown begins!” he announces from the other side, his indistinct footsteps fading away.

The air is almost suffocating, the darkness plunging you into an atmosphere anything but reassuring, and especially the impossible closeness between you and Suguru becomes just unbearable.

Your breaths mingle, and when you try to shift positions, your chest brushes against Suguru’s, causing him to clench his jaw. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s… Let’s just say I’m not quite sure what to do here,” you admit, lifting your eyes to him, and God, he could devour you at that moment, the faint light at your feet bringing a tiny spark to your lost doe-like eyes.

“The others will get annoying if we don’t do anything,” Suguru huffs, rolling his eyes before shaking his head. “I guess Satoru explained it to you? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, okay?” he insists, his tone soft and patient. He closes his eyes for a moment and inhales slightly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m a little embarrassed,” you murmur. Then, those previous words start to tease you. “Would it bother you to do something?” you ask nonetheless.

“No, not really,” Suguru chuckles, his perfect teeth glimmering slightly in the darkness. “But we can pretend if you prefer.”

“Pretend?”

“Yeah, just…” Suddenly, he gently takes your wrists and presses them against the wooden wall of the closet, leaning toward your neck, “...pretend.”

You bite your lip to suppress any sound, but you desperately want to make one right now.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers just below your ear, near your pulse.

Your breathing has quickened, matching the beats of your heart, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “No.”

His lips descend to your neck, brushing against your skin, his breath caressing you to the point that you’re on the verge of breaking.

“S-Suguru…”

“Hmm?” He hums, slightly opening his mouth to let his teeth graze just above your trapezius. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to speak, as if two hands were preventing you by squeezing you in the sweetest way.

That’s when he starts placing butterfly kisses on your neck and shoulders, as light as they are burning despite the icy temperature of his lips against your volcanic skin. “You have such soft, tender skin, princess,” Suguru murmurs in a breathy whisper, continuing his feather-light kisses that unintentionally make you emit a small hum revealing your inner turmoil. He chuckles softly, the sound so pleasant that it sends a pulse through your core. “If I were a vampire, I would have devoured you by now,” he teases ironically.

You freeze. “Suguru?” you whisper, your brows slightly furrowed.

“Princess?” he replies in the same tone, his lips moving down to your collarbone, dotting it with sweet, intoxicating kisses.

Unable to resist the temptation, Suguru discreetly slips out his tongue and licks a strip of your bare skin, which begins to unravel you — your mouth unable to hold back an adorable moan that drives Suguru wild.

His canines painfully extend from their gums, their tips so close to your soft, warm flesh, filled with blood he has never craved so much, but he knows he cannot. Yet it’s almost impossible for him to resist, not when your little rapid breaths tickle his shoulder, when you seem so small and vulnerable in his arms, and when your pulse races to the point that his ultra-developed hearing cannot ignore it as it usually does. So what is he to do? He inches closer and closer, his canines just millimeters away from sinking into your neck—

“Seven minutes are up!” Satoru announces as he inserts the key into the lock — just enough time for you both to pull away from each other and for Suguru’s painful canines to retreat back into his gums.

Your face has never been so warm in your life.

~~~~

That evening, after returning home without any issues, you collapsed onto your bed, alone, faced with the only thoughts occupying your mind — Suguru Geto.

Oh Lord.

If he hadn’t been real, this man would have been your fantasy day and night.

But after what happened in that infamous broom closet, you can no longer see Suguru the same way.

Not after he somehow showed you how he could desire you.

How he could protect you.

Your thoughts become tangled, and you can no longer distinguish what your brain imagines and what it remembers.

Between the two strange men in the restaurant who suddenly assaulted you and the feeling that everything spins like a black spiral, blinding you, or the man who faces you in the dark corridor of what seems to be a gothic mansion.

He extends his hand, and you step forward to take it. It’s pale, cold, and as hard as stone. It pulls you toward him, drawing you against him, his smooth white mask waiting to be removed.

So that’s what you do, your hands gently pulling at the mask to reveal what lies behind, but the face that emerges makes you want to scream.

Suguru’s head faces you, his canines protruding and stained with blood, along with the contours of his mouth.

You try to scream, to flee, to do anything, but your body seems no longer willing to respond to your brain, as if paralyzed — and Suguru only leans closer to sink his fangs into the soft, warm flesh of your neck before—

You wake up with a start, sitting halfway up in your bed, your body slick with cold sweat and your panicked eyes searching for Suguru as if it were a vital need.

It may sound crazy, but you need him.

You have to check.

~~~~

“Do you prefer scrambled, fried, or omelet eggs?”

In Suguru’s kitchen — decorated in a rather modern style with black and white furniture, but with a touch of vintage or gothic (anyway, you weren’t good at decorating, so whatever) — the smell of heating oil fills the air, eliciting a growl from your stomach.

“Scrambled, but well-cooked,” you reply as he hums and grabs three eggs to crack over the heated pan.

While his back is turned, you rise as casually as possible, trying not to look too suspicious as you pretend to peek at what he’s cooking. Suguru glances sideways at you but smiles slightly, tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

Since then, you haven’t talked about the frat party at all, as if nothing had happened, in fact. At least from Suguru’s side.

From your side, you can’t forget how he planted kisses on your neck, how he licked your collarbone until you moaned, and you realize that if he had continued without interruption, you would have surely agreed to go further, just as Satoru had mentioned.

You stop drifting into your thoughts and wrap your hand around the fridge handle, and Suguru turns his head towards you, knitting his brows.

“I want to drink water,” you say, opening the fridge to take a look, expecting to find jars or bottles of blood but…

…nothing.

Now that’s a bit disappointing.

There’s just nothing in Suguru’s fridge, aside from the door leading into its depths.

You turn to him, confused. “Why is your fridge empty?” you ask.

Suguru pauses for a moment before responding, his hands busy finishing your scrambled eggs. “I prefer to order food when I can.” His tone is neutral, neither cold nor dry, just lacking any openness to guess anything, which begins to irritate you.

“Not even water?”

“You ask so many questions,” Suguru sighs, a slight smile on his lips but with no malice.

“I’m just worried that my friend isn’t eating well or that he has an eating disorder,” you lie, your heart racing even more because how is it possible that, aside from the small box of eggs on the counter, he doesn’t even have water? “Do you drink tap water? It’s not very good for your health, you know—”

Suguru adds a pinch of salt to the well-cooked eggs in the pan using a small salt shaker and throws you another sideways glance, but without a smile this time. “Why are you panicking?” he suddenly asks, his voice rough and low.

“What? No, I’m not panicking, I—”

“Then why are your cheeks red? I can even hear your heartbeat racing,” he retorts, and you freeze slightly — because he’s speaking the truth, a truth that only you should be able to utter.

“It’s because of the heat in the kitchen and also because you’re avoiding my questions, Suguru,” you persist. “And what do you mean by ‘hearing’ my heartbeat, huh?”

Now it’s Suguru who looks taken aback. “Stop saying nonsense, you just sound silly. It’s an expression,” he justifies, the expression on his face twisted in a frustration you seem to understand.

He places your eggs on a plate and turns his head away from you. So you muster your courage, and to hell with it if you wet yourself.

“Suguru, I don’t know how to react now,” you admit, your voice low and uncertain. “You act so strangely sometimes that I have questions, but it seems so stupid that I feel like I’m going crazy…” A knot tightens in your throat.

Suguru turns to you, and his slightly harder gaze from a few seconds ago softens. “What are you thinking?” he murmurs, so softly and kindly that you feel he won’t judge you.

“I just… I sometimes feel like…” You look away, stepping back a little. “You don’t act like everyone else and…”

“And…?” Suguru presses, pulling a glass of water from the cupboard.

You feel your face turning as red as it did at the frat party and admit, raising your voice slightly due to uncontrollable embarrassment, “You look like a vampire, seriously!”

A silence follows.

Then Suguru turns to you. “Are you afraid of vampires?” He chuckles, teasing you.

“No, but you’re acting strangely and—”

“And so you think I’m a vampire?” he cuts you off, losing all trace of joy.

And now, he catches you off guard, making you stutter like never before. “No— well, yes, but— not really…”

“Well,” he mumbles, returning to your plate and glass to set them on the kitchen table, “who knows?”

Your complexion turns pale.

“Tell me, princess, if I were really a vampire — not a bad one, but a vampire nonetheless — would you accept me?” Suguru now approaches you quickly, cornering you against the wall behind you as you stupidly step back.

Only your frightened eyes meet his, and his obsidian gaze scrutinizes you. “It all depends on whether you want to kill me or harm me,” you breathe.

“And what if that weren’t my intention as a vampire, that I cherished you like Edward Cullen did with his Bella, hmm?” He takes your wrist to bring it to his lips and smells — but what scent? “That I love you and protect you?”

“You would drink blood… right?”

“Would you let me taste yours?” Suguru’s teeth hold your trembling wrist firmly as they hover just above your tendon, his gaze locked onto yours. “Just a sip, perhaps? It’s harmless.”

“I don’t know, Suguru… Are you a bad vampire?”

“No, darling, I would be the good vampire you would want me to be.” Suguru grins, releasing your wrist to cage you in his arms, his mouth too close to your neck, and his cool breath sending shivers all over your body. “May I?”

Your disoriented arms wrap around him, and you resign yourself to closing your eyes before nodding gently without knowing why.

“Are you sure, princess?” Suguru purrs in your ear. “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” you murmur, the blood pounding in your ears and your heart racing.

Suguru deliberately takes his time, planting a multitude of butterfly kisses on your skin, licking the area he undoubtedly wants to bite just to hear you pant softly in his ears.

He finally parts his lips, brushing his painful, protruding canines, ready to drink your blood.

Slowly, gently, and with the utmost delicacy, his fangs sink into the flesh of your neck.

You expected to feel pain, to scream, shout, and even struggle, but the only sensation is pleasure.

With every passing second, you feel a flow of blood circulating where Suguru bites you. It almost tickles, if you weren’t softly gasping and stifling whimpers.

It’s as if with each pull, a pulse of pleasure shoots directly to your core.

Until it becomes unbearable, your body writhing gently in any attempt at friction. Suguru feels it, of course, because after pulling his teeth from your flesh, he slightly straightens to admire you, your lips parted but in a pleading pout.

As for him, his lips hold the gulp of blood he just took from you, but he keeps his mouth tightly closed — because he knows the sight might disgust you. Then, a few long moments later, Suguru smiles at you, his long canines pristine once again.

You glance at your neck reflexively, and it’s as if he bit you without slicing your flesh. Your skin is smooth, with only two purplish holes visible. It looks like the wounds are in the process of healing.

Wonder fills you, and you wrap your arms around Suguru, who quickly does the same before you surprise him by kissing him directly.

His lips — despite their hard coldness — are soft against yours, moving slowly against your eager mouth, as desirous as you are.

Between kisses, you whisper, “How long have you desired my blood?”

“Since the first experience,” Suguru replies softly, his mouth devouring yours as you try to insert your tongue. “Not too far, my love, they’re sharp.” And you guess he’s talking about his teeth.

You pout. “I want you.”

Suguru presses his lips together, breaking the kiss. “Sure? I thought you were scared but I think I can control myself, and… don’t you want to ask me questions? It would be strange if you didn’t have any, after all.”

“We can do that later; I just want you right now,” you mumble, burying your face in his neck. “I’m I’m not afraid anymore.”

Suguru’s large hands slowly slide down your back and stop at your waist, gently gripping you. “So, you’re accepting me?”

You slightly turn your head toward him, your lips brushing against his jaw. “I’ve always dreamed of vampires — but they were still just dreams.”

Suguru exhales. “I can’t give you an Edward Cullen, but I can be the vampire of your fantasies. So will you accept me, my love?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

~~~~

“Ah— you’re teasing, Sugu—”

Muffled words reach your ears, but they are incomprehensible, as the vampire making you wet literally has his head buried between your legs, devouring your pussy like a starved man.

He lifts his head to look at you, and a smile lights up his features, his chin dripping with your wetness. “You can’t handle a little teasing, baby?” he coos, the tip of his tongue circling around your puffy clit in a torturous motion that makes you whine.

You pout, gasping when he pinches the little bud between his lips. “But I want you, now,” you insist.

“But I need to get you ready for me,” he responds, his hands placing themselves on your inner thighs to pin you against the mattress, laying you bare before him. He continues to wickedly tease you with the tip of his tongue against your clit and between your soaked folds.

“S’not fair,” you protest, your legs trembling softly on either side of his head like a little animal.

“Your beauty isn’t fair, that’s the point, yeah.” Suguru climbs over your body, one hand sneaking around your neck and the other sliding between your thighs to tease your dripping intimacy. He presses his mouth against your ear. “Do you know how badly I’ve struggled to not devour you?”

His whisper so close makes you gasp, as the sensation is far too pleasant and uncomfortable in the best way — breath as cold as it is warm, as he inserts a finger inside you.

“Hmm, baby?” You try to respond, but only a pathetic whimper escapes. He pushes his finger gently but surely deeper until he reaches your g-spot, and your back arches.

“Sugu,” you whine.

“You didn’t answer, princess,” he purrs, licking the shell of your ear. And he starts to pump his finger inside you, your walls clenching around his digit, warming his cold finger as he finger-fucks you in earnest. “Haven’t you seen how badly I was burning for you?”

“I— Not at the s-start,” you pant, bucking your hips toward his finger, and the more he whispers his dirty talk in your ear, the closer you feel yourself reaching your climax.

“Not at the start? And when we were in that broom closet? Weren’t you at my mercy like the little mortal that you are, almost whining because you have this dirty voice kink?” He adds another finger into your abused cunt, sinking his thick fingers to the hilt.

You squirm under him and try to respond. “M’sorry, Suguru, I just need you to—”

“To what, darling?” He pumps his fingers as teasingly as his voice, knuckle-deep and fast. “Tell me how badly you want to cum, can you do that for me?” Your sweet pussy squeezes his fingers, almost spasming because you need more, but he doesn’t allow you until you’re stretched enough to take him after that.

“I w-want to cum on— Hngh, please—” You throw your head back on the mattress, mouth agape from the unstoppable moans leaving your sweet lips. “C-Cum on your fingers, please.”

“That’s good, baby, you’re doing good,” he praises, kissing your ear, temple, cheek, and then lips. He drives his fingers deep into your depths and curls them just as you tighten around them, releasing the knot in your belly to let your juices flow.

His cold thumb joins your clit to rub gently until you ride your orgasm.

“Good job, baby, you did perfect.” Suguru straightens up, pulling his fingers from you to taste your fresh juices around his fingers while you watch with drooping eyelids and half-closed eyes. Suguru then leans in to kiss you, gently at first, knowing you’re still a little weak, then he inserts a bit of his tongue without ever crossing your teeth, fearing to hurt you.

You softly break the kiss and kiss his jaw, which makes him sigh softly. “Sugu? I have a question.”

He chuckles softly. “What did I tell you about questions?” He strokes your hair soothingly, laying down beside you. “But ask away.”

“Your entire body is cold, so it means that blood doesn’t flow through your veins, right?” you start.

“Right.”

“So, how can you be hard?” You slip a hand down his pants to palm his erection through the fabric. Your cute face almost makes his dead heart throb. “It’s funny, though,” you giggle.

“It’s hard to explain but, do you know how Edward made love to Bella?” Suguru asks, kissing your cheek as you unzip his pants.

“It wasn’t really described, but,” you pause, “was he hard?”

“Sure he was, like I am right now for you,” he mutters. Your palm wraps around his now free, throbbing erection, and your warmth electrifies a rush of pleasure through his cold flesh. You climb between his legs and lower your head so you can lap at his tip — dripping with his pre.

“Princess, be careful with—” He interrupts himself, letting out a groan to stifle a moan, which makes you laugh softly. “Tease,” he groans.

“Uh-huh.” You envelop his pale tip and suck gently, reducing Suguru to a panting and needy thing. Your fingers play with his balls, and he clenches his hands into fists, hissing between his teeth.

“Baby, be careful, you don’t know how badly I can hurt you if I don’t control at least how my body reacts to your touch, so don’t take me in your— Dear Lord,” he groans again. You see and feel the way he forces his hips to stay still against the matress to not pierce your palate with his length, much harder than usual. So you suck him slowly, carefully, not to surprise his body and give him the head you want him to feel — he even deserves it.

You withdraw his twitching dick from your mouth and grin, warming it up with your hands as he feels free to buck his hips and fuck your fist earnestly this time. “You’re so beautiful like this, aren’t you?” you praise, playing with his balls as he whines.

His long black hair sprawls across the immaculate sheets, his eyelids squinted and pleading, and his perfect lips slightly parted to let out the most divine sounds. Suguru is truly the vampire you’ve always fantasized about since your first reading on vampires.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Suguru tells you, reaching out his arm to cup your chin and make you lift your eyes to his. “I want to cum inside you, if you would let me.” And God, how can you say no to that perfect immortal angel?

And so it is that you end up lying on the mattress, your belly exposed, your naked and heated body pressed against Suguru’s icy one, which you can’t wait to warm up.

He settles between your thighs, wrapping them around his waist before leaning down to pull you into his arms, shielding you with his stone muscles as your breasts gently crush against his cold chest, hardening your nipples, and he feels it — dragging one of his hands to it and pinching softly, just enough to make you whimper his name.

He presses his mouth against your ear again and whispers dirty words, “Ready to take my cock, princess? I won’t break you, promise. At least not yet.” And he brings his tip against your wet slit, pressing flesh against flesh to tease you until the end.

“You bast—” and he cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his tip to the very entrance of your delicious walls, ready to take him with every inch. You kiss him back, licking his lips eagerly.

“You’ll take it inch by inch, okay? It’s cold, so I need you to be comfortable with a suitable temperature,” Suguru warns you between heated kisses. “Ready?” He pulls his lips from yours to place them against your sensitive ear — on the way, he leaves a gentle hickey, enough to leave a reddish mark.

Tenderly, he sinks into you, the first inch greeted by your parted folds, greedy to take more of him.

“One inch,” Suguru says, waiting for you to adjust. “Is it alright down here?”

“Y-Yeah, I just need more, I want you whole.” You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to ignore how you tighten around his dick when he whispers in your ear.

“Two inches,” he exhales then curses under his breath. “Fuck, you’re so wet, and how can you be this tight?” As he gently inserts the third and fourth inches, Suguru feels like he could crack at any moment, overwhelmed by the desire to bury himself deep inside your sweet, gorgeous pussy.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh inches are taken easily by your tightness, filling the room with your two uncontrollable gasps and the heat radiating from your body, which warms so much that when Suguru starts to fuck you gently at first, you think you might melt at any moment and see stars.

He rails into you so deep and fast that he curses under his breath. “Fuck, you’ve taken the eighth inch.” He groans at the same time as you, as you take him so well that he reaches the bottom, his tip kissing your g-spot even better than his fingers did earlier.

“Oh, fuck! S’too much, Sugu, and too deep,” you moan, and it only makes his dick throb harder than it was when you stroked him.

Because with every thrust or stroke, the two of you feel overwhelmed and overstimulated at the same time. He withdraws almost entirely to slam back into you, not too hard but enough for your toes to curl and you to cry out.

“I’m already close, Suguru, please, I wanna cum.” And Suguru chuckles softly, thrusting into you harder and faster than he was already doing. Now, his tip hits your sweet spot with every stroke, coaxing sounds from you that he dreams of hearing.

“Cum on this cock, baby, you can do it,” he coos in your ear, making you clench around him, intertwining your fingers with his. He takes one of your legs to lift it over his shoulder and buries himself deeper inside you, and you press a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming.

“I’m close, I’m gonna—” But you cry out again against your palm, cumming hard and loud on his dick, your velvety walls twitching and spasming as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm — your eyes shutting as you see stars.

As you come down from your high, Suguru slows his pace and stays inside you, lying down next to you. “You alright?”

And you nod feebly, throwing a leg over his waist to sit on him and take him deeper. You gently lower your head, admiring your juices flowing from your cunt. “Your turn now.”

And you ride him carefully, taking his hands in yours to place them on your hips, letting him lead the pace with you. “You’re beautiful,” Suguru murmurs, his obsidian eyes shining with devotion. He flutters them closed, humming, groaning, and sometimes whining when you bounce on him too well, and he’s about to cum.

You gently lay down on him as he lifts his hips in sync, gripping your waist to take over and help him cum — which he succeeds in doing, and the sensation is so surprising and pleasant that you moan softly along with him, your adorable faces scrunching up in pleasure.

His load is warm, neither cold nor hot. It’s as if you’ve warmed his dick so that it’s no longer cold.

Your cheek rests against the coolness of his muscular chest, and you sigh in relief. “You’re going to be very useful to me in the summer,” you giggle, placing gentle kisses along his neck.

“Whenever you want, my love.”

~~~~

“I often come here to hunt,” Suguru explains, parting branches in the forest to make it easier for you to pass.

You skillfully slip through and take his hand in yours to warm it up, smiling as you take in the view he’s sharing: a vast plain overlooked by tall, sturdy trees, sinuous riverbanks, and a large waterfall a bit further on, peeking out where your eyes meet the river paths.

“It’s beautiful, Suguru,” you whisper, fluttering your eyes closed as he squeezes your hand.

“Doesn’t it?” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you affectionately against him. “There’s never anyone here, just beasts. That way, I won’t have any humans to kill,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Is it like in Twilight?” you ask, giggling. “But you don’t have brown eyes.”

“No, it’s not the same,” he corrects you. “As long as I have blood, I have no problem. Human or not, it’s really just a matter of taste. It’s sweeter, you know.”

“Do you have a little sweet tooth?” you tease, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek as he steps away from you to bend down so you can climb onto his back.

“Not really, that’s more Satoru,” he laughs, gripping your thighs as you hop onto his back.

“Aha! I knew he was like you; you’re both just as weird as each other,” you snicker, proud to have solved another mystery.

Suguru bursts into laughter, as if your laughter is that of a little child who is also proud of themselves. “Yeah, and he studies physics, you know. He’s not very sharp in school, but physics is really his thing.” He takes a breath — an unnecessary one, since he doesn’t need to breathe; he just does it out of habit to avoid alarming humans — and glances at you discreetly. “Ready?”

You nod, and without further ado, Suguru begins his run.

He runs fast, of course; he’s a vampire.

But so fast, in fact, that you barely feel him taking steps. It’s as if he’s flying across the ground, the wind whipping against your faces. Every now and then, you lower your head, fearing that branches might slice your head off, but Suguru usually warns you when you can admire the scenery whizzing by faster than a car would allow.

When he finally stops, it’s to drop you off on a hill that takes your breath away.

The same one from your favorite book.

The hill is lush with small green grasses, dotted with tiny purple flowers like in a paradisiacal autumn meadow.

“It’s… It’s…” you stammer, amazed by the surprise he just gave you as he carefully sets you down on the ground, making sure you don’t stumble from the peculiar journey.

“For you,” Suguru adds, settling down on the grass as he waits for you to join him.

“Suguru, how did you…?” you trail off, sitting on the grass with an otherworldly appearance.

“I practically live here, to be honest,” he replies, planting little kisses on your neck and collarbone. “I hunt and feed here. And when I’m not feeling well…” He caresses your skin with the tip of his nose, tracing a path to your chest to bury his face there and sigh, his eyelids shut. “...I used to come here. But I don’t need to anymore.”

A smile curls your lips up. Your fingers gently stroke his jet-black hair. “You should turn me one day, you know? That way, I could come hunt with you and—”

“Not a chance,” he mumbles, pressing his ear against your heart. “I don’t want to lose this little heart. It’s mine.”

You huff. “You sound like Edward, seriously…”

“I would never abandon you, that’s for sure, but as for your transformation, it’s far from today.” Suguru places yet another kiss on your chest and then moves down to your belly, trying to find a sensitive spot to tickle you with his perfect touch.

“So I’ll go see Satoru,” you threaten, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Him? He’ll devour you whole without a second thought. I was the one holding him back during the frat party,” Suguru informs you with a little laugh.

“E-Excuse me?”

And it’s under Suguru’s amused laughter that you promise never to approach the albino — as much from afar as up close.

a/n: okay, i literally have missed the kinkoctober because of this fic :/ i hope at least you guys will enjoy it <3 (i’m so tiiiiired, tho). but tbh, it was fun to write since it was really during this month that the fic is so it’s like i’m living it :))

next → curse hunter! toji !!

tags: @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @cybersomn1a @sanemistar

@ssetsuka @monokaix

[beomcharms]

bound ᥫ᭡

pairings: beomgyu x reader

genre: arranged marriage au! childhood friends to lovers, they’re both idiots

warnings: angstt, beomgyu is mean, kissing, suggestive language, part 2 likely to have smut, mentions of food, exhaustion etc (lmk if i missed anything)

w/c: 5.2k (im so so sorry)

a/n : somebody should lock my hands up because i genuinely cannot stop writing this fic😭. wanted to post this as a full fic but i’m pretty sure it’d be over the word count so here’s part one. hope you guys enjoy!!

taglist: lmk and i’ll add you!

fic below cut

Beomgyu who didn’t think twice when his dad proposed the question to him. He was not one to be bothered by love or finding the right one and out of the options he had you seemed to be the best choice. Your family’s knew each other and he has known you since you were babies and all through high school. You guys weren’t exactly friends but you were always there for all the major events in his life.

You, who were taken by surprise at the news, felt even more puzzled out when you heard that Beomgyu had agreed to marry you. He could have any girl. Handsome and charismatic you wonder why he agreed to marry you. Sure, it made sense in a business sense. With you marrying Beomgyu it’d further cement the relationship between your families and really boost your dads businesses. Maybe Beomgyu had his own reasons like you did.

The wedding is a quiet affair, mostly consisting of family friends and couple of your own. The day passes by in a daze and before you even realise it you’re standing in front of Beomgyu.

He looked dashing in his suit. Beomgyu gives you a small smile before giving his vows. You repeat your vows and he leanes down to give a small peck on your lips.

Your families cheer for you and you watch as your mom cries, tears of your own falling down from your cheeks. Beomgyu quietly hands you his handkerchief and you wipe them away, thanking him.

Something in Beomgyu’s chest hardens at the sight of your tears. The marriage had been nothing but one of convenience for him and he wonders whether that was unfair to you. He didn’t really know you all that well. You were quiet and kept to yourself a lot. But when you were really small you would read out stories to him while he dozed off next to you.

Now, looking at you standing next to him as his wife Beomgyu slowly realises how much time has actually flown by. Feeling his eyes own you, you turn around. Beomgyu is staring at you with an unreadable expression. You give him a quick smile which seems to break him out of his daze. He smiles back at you.

-.-

It’s been a week of your marriage. You are slowly adjusting to his house trying to grow familiar with your new environment. Beomgyu leaves early for work and comes home late at night. You on the other hand do your job at the school. The new academic year has just begun and you were trying not to drown in your hectic schedule.

“Hey, mind if I use your hair dryer? Mine seems to be broken” Beomgyu’s question brings you back to reality.

“Huh- yea- no, go ahead” you tell him. You were folding your laundry. You and Beomgyu shared a room, but that was it. You didn’t know when he came to bed or when he rose. The slightly rumpled sheets the only evidence that he had spend the night with you.

It was rare for you to be together at the same time. Being the weekend, it was your off day and you usually spend it at home passing your time doing one of your many hobbies. Beomgyu usually stayed in the study and you figure that’s where he is probably headed after his shower.

Packing up your stuff in to your closet, you head to the kitchen. The dough you had gotten ready for the cookies would’ve probably cooled by now. Opening up your refrigerator, you take out the dough when you hear footsteps. You look around to see Beomgyu making his way towards you.

“Hungry” he answers to your questioning look and you nod your head.

“Would you like some pancakes ?” You ask him, setting down the dough.

“Uh- that’s cookie dough, sweetheart” he tells you with a smile leaning against the counter.

“Duh- I know, I made it” you tell him rolling your eyes. “I have some batter left, but if you’re going to be a smartass about it, then I guess no” you tell him going back to your business.

“Nooo” Beomgyu drawls out and you raise an eyebrow at him “Please I’d love to have some pancakes, if it’s not a bother for you” he adds.

You try to hide your smile, picking up the batter. You look around and Beomgyu’s still watching you. “Sit”

“Yes Ma’am” he sighs before sitting down on the countertop.

Beomgyu watches you as you work around the kitchen. It’s still new to have you around his house, but he likes it. He likes the little decorations you’ve put up on your bedside table. He likes the soft sound of your breathing when he lies down to sleep. He just wishes he had more time to spend with you. But business has been tough as of late. The new merger was taking up almost all of his time. He feels bad about leaving you alone immediately after your marriage but it is what it is.

“There you go, banana or strawberry? Wait- don’t answer that” you tell him cutting up strawberries for him.

“You remember” Beomgyu says softly and you look up at him.

“Ofcourse, can’t remember the number of times I’ve had to drink banana milk because of you and your obsession with strawberries” you tell him disdainfully.

“Yah- you liked bananas so was it really a sacrifice?” Beomgyu’s huffs at you before taking a bite of his pancake.

“How is it?” You ask him leaning down on your elbows.

“Delicious” he answers with his mouth full and you smile at him before picking up a strawberry from his plate.

“What do you plan on doing today?” Beomgyu asks you.

“Rotting on the couch with my new book” you tell him happily and he rolls his eyes which you ignore.

“What about you- lemme guess, hmm working!” You say tilting your head to the left and Beomgyu considers you for a moment.

“It’s called being productive, sweetheart” he tells you sweetly.

“Reading is productive and I’m not your sweetheart” you tell him mocking his tone.

“You’re literally my wife” he deadpans, “I’m legally obliged to call you sweetheart”

“Okay Honey” you tell him before heading off to the sofa and plopping down picking up your book.

Beomgyu is about to say something when his phone rings. He sighs before he answers. Work calls.

-.-

Blinking away from the brightness of the screen Beomgyu takes note of the time. It’s nearly four in the evening.

He wonders if you have had lunch, he’s been completely focused on his work that he forgot about his surroundings, about you. Guilt grips him again as he makes his way downstairs.

You’re passed out on the couch, the book resting on your chest. He wonders how long you’ve been asleep. Gently pushing away a strand of hair, he is about to wake you up when a message pops up on your phone

Sunghyun 🤍- Cant wait to see you tomorrow!!

Beomgyu scoffs. Who was this man ? Does he know you’re married? Why was he texting you ? WHY DO YOU HAVE A HEART SHAPED EMOJI NEXT TO HIS NAME???

“You know, it’s not nice to snoop through someone else’s stuff” you grumble quietly and Beomgyu nearly jumps.

“Fuck” he says clutching his chest. “I was not snooping, i was just waking you up when the notification popped up” he adds on quickly.

“Uh-huh” you tell him holding out your hand for your phone. Beomgyu gives it to you before sitting down next to you on the couch.

You open your notifications. A couple are from your work friends and one from your mom.

You type out quick replies, before putting your phone back down and turning around to face beomgyu.

“Who’s Sunghyun?” Beomgyu asks you looking down at his nails.

“Huh?” You ask, still disoriented from your nap.

“Sunghyun. Who is he?” Beomgyu asks again impatiently. He feels angry at this Sunghyun. “Does he not know you’re married?”

You take a look at Beomgyu before bursting into laughter.

“What.” Beomgyu asks you surprised at your reaction.

You’re still giggling when you answer him, “Sunghyun’s me friend” you tell him.

“And why is that funny? Does he not know boundaries?” Beomgyu huffs out.

“No silly, Sunghyuns a girl. And I’m unfortunately not into girls, neither is she I believe” you tell him grinning.

Beomgyu wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He clutched the bridge of his nose as if to ward off the reddening of his cheeks.

“Bet, you’re reallllyyy embarrassed right now” you tell him in a playful tone trying to see his face as Beomgyu hides it behind his hands.

“Stopp, I was just asking” he whines out.

“Yeah, yeah” you say smiling. Getting up you head to the kitchen to grab water.

“Does Sunghyun not know you’re married??” You do your best imitation of Beomgyu as you sit back on the couch. Beomgyu looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“Alright I’ll stop” you tell him. “What do you wanna eat ?” You ask him.

“Right now?” Beomgyu asks you wide eyes.

“Yeah- you haven’t had lunch yet, have you?” You ask him.

“No.” Beomgyu replies.

“So, let’s eat something. What do you want to have?” You ask him.

“You haven’t had lunch?” He asks you incredulously. His phone starts ringing again and Beomgyu mutes it.

“No, I was waiting for you, guess I fell asleep then” you answer him, moving around your kitchen.

“You don’t have to wait up for me” he tells you sharply and you look at him.

“I know.” You tell him curtly. Anger flares up inside you.

“No, what I meant was- you don’t have to wait like that for me, I eat whenever I get the time-“ Beomgyu tells you in a softer tone.

“I got it” you tell him. “Well, I’m making pasta, would you like to have some?”

“No- I mean- I’d love to- but I have a meeting to attend to right now” Beomgyu tells you getting up. He doesn’t understand why he gets muddled up with his words when he’s next to you.

“You haven’t had anything since those pancakes… you need to eat” you tell him, irritatedly.

“Work calls” he answers you curtly.

“On a weekend? You don’t see me answering mine. You need to set boundaries” you tell him. Beomgyu is going through his phone, not paying attention to you.

“Well, my job demands this. And anyways how hard is it being a teacher” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks through them. He looks up at you and you’re standing there staring at him in disbelief.

An awkward silence settles over the both of you. Beomgyu feels defensive and you feel hurt beyond words.

“Right. Um- guess I’m making dinner for one then. Why don’t you go ahead with your tough job?” You ask him turning away. You hate yourself for being sensitive like this.

“Y/N- that’s not-“ Beomgyu starts and his phone rings again.

“Work calls” you tell him, pointing at his phone before walking into your bedroom and shutting the door.

Left alone, in the hall, Beomgyu sighs in defeat as his phone starts ringing again.

-.-

Beomgyu is sitting on his side of the bed, looking through his phone with his earphones in when you walk in. You barely give him a glance as you tie your hair into its usual bedtime braid.

Beomgyu watches you out of the corner of his eyes. He feels restless and uneasy at the thought of your conversation earlier. He wants to say sorry and fix things with you but he doesn’t know where to start.

You fluff up your pillows before lying down on your side of the bed, completely ignoring Beomgyu’s presence beside you. What he said to you was unacceptable and you still feel angry at the thought of it.

Scrolling through your phone, you respond to texts, giggling at a few from your friends. Beomgyu clears his throat but you turn away from him. You know it’s childish but you can’t help it.

Beomgyu sighs once again before removing his headphones. He looks over at your back. He wants to reach out but he just doesn’t know how.

You finally turn around and lie on your back. You’re smiling at something on your phone and texting back rapidly

Beomgyu feels a spike of jealousy.

“Don’t you have to wake up early tomorrow?” He asks you and you ignore him, which successfully makes him even more irritated.

Beomgyu snatches your phone out of your hand suddenly,

“Hey-“

“I asked you a question” he tells you looking at you. You refuse to look back at him, trying to get your phone back, which he holds high up above you.

You try to grab hold of his arm but he is not even budging and you lie back down in frustration. Beomgyu tries to hide his growing smirk.

“I don’t know Beomgyu- my job is anyways not that important so does it really matter?” You huff out. Staring at the ceiling, still refusing to look into your eyes.

Beomgyu leans over you, trying to catch your eyes and you turn away from him, but he grabs your chin, making you look at him.

“You’re so childish” he tells you. How dare he?

You push his hand away, getting up. You’re about to get off from the bed when Beomgyu grabs hold of your waist, pulling you back in.

“Let me go-“

“No- I don’t care how angry you’re at me, we sleep in the same bed” he tells you trying to hold you down.

“Why” you ask him struggling to free yourself.

“Because it’s on our vows. In sickness and in health…” he starts

“Yes not in anger and in spite” you finally stop struggling, lying still. Stupid strong man.

“Give me back my phone” you tell him.

“Here you go” he says handing it over to you. “Who are you texting at this hour? Doesn’t Sunghyun sleep?” He asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Who says I’m texting Sunghyun?” You tell him, adjusting the pillows around you. Beomgyu leans over you trying to read your texts and you push him away.

“Get your nosey ass away from me” you say.

“Who are you texting? Does he know you’re my wife?” He starts again.

“Oh my god- why don’t I get that tattoed on my head “Married to Choi Beomgyu” maybe that’d keep away everyone” you tell him tiredly, switching off your phone.

“Would make you infinitely more attractive” Beomgyu tells you lying back down.

You pretend to gag, setting up a pillow between you.

“What’s this for?” Beomgyu asks.

“I don’t want you crossing over to my part” you tell him, pulling the blanket over yourself.

“So childish” he mutters before turning off the bedside lamp.

-.-

Waking up you know something’s immediately wrong. Your body feels sore and a slight movement is enough to set you into a world of pain. You cannot be having a fever right now.

You’re about to get up when you notice a pair of hands and legs thrown over your body. Beomgyu has you in his grasp. Clearly a pillow fortress is not enough to keep this man away. Turning around in his hold, you take note of his sleeping form. He looks angel like when he’s asleep.

Slowly extricating yourself from his arms you get up and your world shifts.

“Whoa-“ you mutter grasping into the bed frame. Your ears ring and black clouds the edges of your vision.

You force yourself to walk upto the bathroom but your body gives up midway.

-.-

A thousand needles pin you. Or atleast that’s how it feels. Your entire body is aching when you wake up. You feel disoriented for a moment looking at the white ceiling.

You jump up in shock when someone pushes you back down.

“Your ass is not getting out of that bed unless I tell you” Beomgyu tells you roughly.

“What-“ you start but it comes out more as a croak. You take note of his appearance. He looks a little rough. There is stubble on his jaw and he looks like he hasn’t slept at all.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me if you were sick” Beomgyu starts again. He is sitting by your side. The curtains are closed around your bed.

“It’s not that serious” you tell him carelessly, noting the flowers on the curtains. Beomgyu follows your eyes.

“I requested for a private room but only the ward was available” he tells you softly and your eyes snap back to him.

“Huh? No, I-“ you start. He was getting this wrong. “I don’t like hospitals” you tell him in a small voice.

“Nobody does” he answers.

“No I know- I just, can we go home?” You ask him voice wobbly and you hate yourself for it. Beomgyu looks at you in concern.

“We’ll go soon, waiting for the doc you know?” He tells you arranging the blankets around you. You take note of how you’re wearing his shirt. Did you vomit on yourself? What happened? You feel too embarrassed to ask.

“Did you miss work because of me?” You ask him looking at him with watery eyes.

“No, no it doesn’t matter right now, please rest Y/N” he tells you pushing you down again.

You cover your eyes with your arm not wanting for him to see you in such a vulnerable position. You don’t miss the way he sighs.

-.-

It’s nearly evening when your doctor visits you, going over a few medications and advising you to rest for the next couple of days he finally gives you the green signal to go home.

Beomgyu’s arm rests around your waist, supporting you into the car. You barely remember the ride back home, crashing into your bed the moment you reach home.

When you wake up, Beomgyu is still beside you. He is sleeping, neck bent at an odd angle and you gently shake him awake.

“What- are you okay? Do you need anything” he asks you bleary eyed and jumping up.

“No-no. Calm down. I’m alright” you tell him and he settles back down. He looks extra bear like in his sleepy state and your heart swells a little.

“Go sleep. I’m alright now and you need to be in Office tomorrow” you tell him.

“Yeah” he tells you smiling sheepishly, starting to climb into your bed.

“No- not here. You shouldn’t be sleeping next to me” you tell him immediately, pushing him away.

“What do you mean??” He asks you confused still hovering over the bed.

“No you’ll catch my fever” you tell him shaking your head.

Beomgyu stares at you for a moment before climbing back into the bed. “If that’s the case, I’d have probably caught it by now” he tells you lying down and pushing you back into the bed.

You get up again, “I don’t want you to get sick on my account” you tell him, stubborn.

“God, just lie down Y/N, I’m more strong than you think” he tells you pulling you down next to him.

You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed. Beomgyu smiles to himself at the sight, before pulling you closer to him.

You look over at him and he is looking at you so softly that you feel shy.

“G’night Sweetheart” he murmurs before falling asleep.

“Goodnight”

-.-

It’s been three days. Three days since you last went to School. Beomgyu is driving you up the wall.

“I’m FINE” you nearly scream when he rushes over to help you as you get up from the couch that evening.

“Alright, alright” he tells you holding his hands up in surrender.

“I will be going to school tomorrow- NO- I’m not asking your permission- I will be going to school tomorrow” you almost stomp your foot in anger but hold yourself back.

“The doctor told you-“ Beomgyu starts and you cut him off immediately-

“To rest for a couple of days. It’s been three. THREE. I have so much of work to catch up on” you huff out. “Ofcourse my job is not a real job in your eyes” Beomgyu winces at that, “but I need to be there tomorrow”

“Okay. Okay. But I’ll drop you and pick you up” Beomgyu tells you. He can already see the arguments forming on your lips. “For my sake Y/N, do it for my sake” he nearly pleades and you take a moment before nodding your agreement.

Atleast you get to go back to work.

“Alright, now, will my precious little wife do me the honour of having her dinner?” He asks you.

“Depends on what my precious little husband has cooked for dinner. If it’s another bowl of oatmeal, you’ll be featured on tomorrow’s headlines” you tell him sweetly.

“Why is my oatmeal that good?” He asks you wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and you hold back your laughter.

“Wife kills husband in an interesting turn of events, wherein he served her oatmeal three times a day for three days” you do your best news anchor voice.

“Ha- ha. Here comes the airplane, open your mouth wooo” Beomgyu answers back, settling down next to you and bringing a spoonful of, surprise, oatmeal.

-.-

“Are you sure about this” Beomgyu asks, yet again, sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Yesssssssss” you drawl out applying your lip gloss. You were wearing your normal white skirt and blue shirt, tying up your hair in a low bun. You glance at Beomgyu through the mirror. He sits ready for work, waiting patiently for you.

“Hmm, which perfume should I wear for today” you ask more to your self that anyone else.

“The one that smells like caramel” Beomgyu immediately answers. You look over at him with an eyebrow raised and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright then, I’m done” you tell him. “How do I look ?” You ask him giving him a twirl as he gets up from the bed.

“Hideous” he tells you walking to the door, trying to calm his rising heart rate.

-.-

“Okay, leave. Now.” You tell him tugging off the seatbelt.

“Good day to you too” he mocks.

“Aw, have a nice day my lovely pumpkin” you coo pinching his cheeks before jumping off of your seat and waving him goodbye.

Beomgyu waves back his hand coming to rest on his cheek. He watches you walk towards the school. Your coat bellowing around you in the wind. He wonders if he should’ve forced you to wear the scarf too.

Looking over, Beomgyu notices a kid running as if to catch upto you. The little boy reaches you and you immediately pat his head, giving him a lovely smile. The boy holds up his hand to you, and Beomgyu watches as you smile down widely at the boy before taking the child’s hands in your own.

Without knowing it himself, Beomgyu is smiling too, watching you.

-.-

A few days pass in the same manner. You’ve grown so used to Beomgyu’s presence that it feels weird to go to work without him.

Making him laugh was your favourite thing. To watch his whisker dimples on full display and his eyes form crescent moons, you feel warmth spread through you. Sometimes it scares you. You were bordering on falling for him that it terrified you. You knew this marriage was one of convenience and Beomgyu would never feel the same way but your heart continued to hope.

Also, you were driven mad with need. To have one of the most handsome men you’ve met right next to you, laughing along with you was one thing. To have his hands brush against yours every once in a while, watching those thick veins work their way around a steering wheel was a completely different thing. Waking up next to him with his deep voice right next to yours, having him wrap you in his arms every night, albeit unconsciously was leading you to the edge of insanity.

Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu was not faring much better. He has grown so attached to you that the thought of being away from you was unthinkable. Every job he did felt like a hurdle to reach you. He loved listening to you talk. You were so animated, hands flying around and having the most comic expressions, he wanted more and more. At the end of the day, Beomgyu was also a man. He knew you slept without a bra on. Your warm body pressed against his and your sweet smelling hair, the way you threw you head back in laughter, exposing your neck to him… Beomgyu felt like he was on a sensory overload.

Yet, he remained a patient man.

-.-

Beomgyu was working away on his laptop when you walked into his study. He looked up and smiled immediately. You were standing at the door, fidgeting, holding a cup and wearing your long camisole.

Beomgyu checks the time. It’s nearly midnight. He just had to figure out this assignment before he slept.

“Well, aren’t you gonna come in?” Beomgyu asks you and you walk upto his table.

“It’s hot cocoa” you tell him before placing down the cup on the table. “Do you have a lot to do?”

“Just this one thing” he tells you pointing to the graph “you go ahead and sleep, I’ll come soon”

You look over at the graph before you, leaning in to get a closer look.

“Ahh, you can’t figure out whether to sell or stay” you tell him looking at the stock market indicators. Beomgyu looks at you in surprise.

“I know my stuff” you tell him, “you neednt look so surprised”

“Is that so? Well would my lovely wife advise me on what i should do then?” He asks you smiling.

You lean down further to see the graph and Beomgyu without warning pulls you down onto his lap.

You turn to look over at him. “Was this your master plan to get me into your lap?” You ask him, dragging the laptop closer to you and adjusting around him.

“Sweetheart you literally came in holding cocoa, that’s code for “i wanna sit on your lap”” he tells you

“Goofy ass” you reply rolling your eyes and Beomgyu drags you closer to him. His breath is so close to your ear that you find it difficult to concentrate on anything but you force yourself to look at the chart before you.

Looking at the rise and fall of the stock you analyse it further to understand it’s behaviour.

“Hmm… I’d advise you to stay” you tell him quietly after a while.

“Why” his voice is close to a whisper and you try not to react to it, pressing your thighs together. An action not missed by Beomgyu.

“Uh…” you feel out of breath. Get a grip! You tell yourself strongly. “See here” you tell him pointing at the graph. Beomgyu rests his chin on your shoulder looking at the place you are pointing.

“The stock has always broken through every time it has hit a barrier and the highs and lows are getting closer and closer, so get ready for the boom” you say the boom looking at his face and Beomgyu grins.

“How do you know all this” voice so loving that you’re taken by surprise. He turns you around on his lap, so that you sit sideways, arms around his shoulder.

“I- uh- I used to do trading for dad” you tell him in a small voice.

“Why did you stop?” He asks you trying to look into your eyes.

“It was not for me. I hate how obsessive I got with it” how obsessive he got with it, you add silently.

Beomgyu rubs a soothing hand over your thigh and you resist the urge to shiver. He smirks at you and you roll your eyes at him, ready to get up, but Beomgyu holds onto your waist.

Beomgyu glances down at your lips and looks back into your eyes. Your doe eyed stare is enough to sent him over the edge, he pulls you closer to him, your body fitting perfectly into his.

“Someone’s eager” you tease him in a whisper, voice full of mirth and Beomgyu cups your cheeks with one hand.

“I’m your husband, sweetheart and husbands have rights” he tells you lowly, face getting closer and closer to yours.

“Hmm… do they?” You ask him, acting like you were thinking about it. Beomgyu nearly growls at you, frustration building up inside him.

“Easy tiger” you laugh, holding his face in your hands and placing a small kiss on his nose. Beomgyu’s grip on your waist tightens and he leans down to your lips, face impossibly close to yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you before capturing your lips with his. The kiss is heated, Beomgyu’s tongue incessantly moving against your own as if to try and get back the last bit of cocoa from your mouth. Your head feels woozy and you try to calm yourself but you feel yourself losing control. You grip onto his shoulders and bite his bottom lip and Beomgyu moans into your mouth, the sound music to your ears.

Beomgyu breaks away first, eyes still closed as if trying to ground himself. You’re not doing much better. You’ve never wanted anyone more in your life. Beomgyu grins at you and you try to kiss his whisker dimples.

“Someone’s eager” he laughs and you shake your head.

“Ofcourse I’m eager” you tell him, “have you seen yourself?” You ask kissing him once more.

“Just - “ Beomgyu’s phone starts ringing and you both look down at it. You see Kai’s caller ID and try not to sigh. Do investment bankers not get the concept of sleep?

“Fuck” Beomgyu mutters. You get up from his lap, but Beomgyu tries to pull you down.

“Baby- just a minute” he tells you eyes apologetic and you feel bad.

“Take your time” you tell him softly before walking out the door.

-.-

Beomgyu is not beside you when you wake up. Slightly disoriented, you get up from your bed. What time was it?

It’s only 7, you make your way down the stairs. Beomgyu stands by the kitchen, already dressed for work.

“Hi” you tell him groggily. “Why are you up so early” you ask him, plopping down on the seat.

“Early meeting. We have a gala to attend tonight” He tells you adjusting his tie.

“What.” You ask him spluttering.

“Be ready by 5” he says turning around and looking at you.

“Beomgyu, I have a parents teachers meet today” you tell him urgently.

“Well, get done with it soon. This is important” he says taking out his phone.

“But- this is my job! I don’t even have an outfit-“ you start panicking.

“I know but this is really important. We need to be there” he says. “I’m sorry”

“Oh, are you really?!” You ask him angrily. You couldn’t understand him. One day he was acting all sweet and loving and the next day, it was like you meant nothing.

“I don’t have the time for this right now” he says walking to the door.

“When do you ever have the time?” You ask following behind him.

“Keep your voice down!” He tells you harshly.

“Oh fuck you-“ you nearly scream.

Beomgyu slams the door on the way out.

🎧this is the end of pt.1, hope you liked it 🥹PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE interact with this fic because it helps me out a ton and it feels less like i’m shouting into a void. xoxo🎧

[ohdeerfully]

I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)

HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!

Silky Fur

alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!

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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.

Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.

You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.

You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.

This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.

There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.

You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.

You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.

If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.

You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.

He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.

You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.

“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.

“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.

“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.

“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”

You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.

As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.

“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.

“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.

He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.

What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.

“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.

Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.

“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”

You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight. 

You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.

“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.

You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again. 

“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.

You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed. 

It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.

“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”

“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail. 

“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.

“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.” 

You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.

You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.

It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[raven-dor]

birds of a feather

In which gwayne's wife misses her friends, and he remedies that by visiting during their nephew's second name day

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: tension between friends, fluff, reuniting, allusions to nsfw, FLUFF

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

🎶 : birds of a feather - billie eilish

AN: this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

The familiar view of King’s Landing stood outside the carriage window, butterflies erupting in the young woman’s stomach. After two years, she was back in the place she’d called home for most of her life. She fidgeted with her dress, eager to leave the carriage and see her friends. As much as Y/N loved her husband, she’d missed her friends beyond belief, and when Gwayne had mentioned they’d been invited to their nephew’s second name day, she’d jumped at the chance. 

He smiled, tilting his head. “You seem eager.” 

She grinned, her husband’s teasing would not place a damper on her happiness. “I am. I’ve missed them more than I care to say.” 

He raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Do I really bore you so?” 

“Yes. You are quite boring.” She smirked. “If only I had a handsome, young husband to entertain me. Instead, I am-” His lips attacked hers, and she cackled, throwing her head back. “You know I adore you.” 

“And I you.” He grinned, nuzzling his nose against hers. “We’re here.” 

She squealed, straightening her dress. “After you, husband.” 

The carriage door opened; Gwayne walked out first, extending his hand. “My lady.” 

She smiled thankfully, walking down the steps. With him by her side, she felt like a princess. The way he looked at her made her weak, practically mush. “Thank you, my love.” 

Alicent, Viserys, and Otto stood at the opposite side of the courtyard. The young couple approached, bowing before the king and queen. 

“My lord.” Gwayne nodded.

“Your Grace.” Y/N smiled. “It is most gracious of you to have extended this invitation.” 

Viserys laughed. “Nonsense. I’ve considered you part of my family for many years now.” 

“That is very kind, thank you.” 

Alicent smiled, stepping forward and taking Y/N’s hands into hers. “I have missed you so.” 

“I’ve missed you as well, Your Grace. It has been far too long.” 

The girl's smile faltered at the title, nodding in agreement. “Please, come. We have much to celebrate.” 

“Yes, indeed.” Y/N grinned, walking with Alicent. “How is little Aegon?” 

Alicent’s smile did not reach her eyes. “Well.”

Y/N whispered. “And you? How are you?” 

“I am-” Viserys summoned her across the room. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Of course.” Y/N nodded. “I’ll be here.” 

“So?” Gwayne appeared beside her, hooking his arm through hers. “How goes my dear sister?” 

“She’s-” Y/N sighed. “She seems well.” 

Gwayne hummed. “Perhaps we should go fawn over the young prince.” 

She smiled. “I believe I will take a walk around the grounds.” 

He tilted his head. “Would you like me to come with you?” 

She shook her head. “Stay. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family.” 

He laughed but nodded. “You are my family now.” 

Her cheeks flushed, and she kissed his cheek quickly. “I love you.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “I love you much more, my dear.”  

Music rang from the Godswood, a man’s voice echoing throughout the halls. Strange, she’d thought. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see who was making the noise. A young man sat by at the foot of the tree, stroking the strings of his guitar while he sang. Not far from him sat a young girl with white hair falling at her waist. Y/N grinned, approaching the princess. “Rhaenyra!” 

Her friend's head whipped, a menacing look in her eyes until she realized who had called her name. “Y/N!” She practically jumped to her feet, running to her friend. She hugged her tightly, emotion laced in her voice. “I’ve missed you.” She let her go, looking her over. “Are you well?” 

Y/N nodded, grinning so widely she thought her cheeks would explode. “Very. I feel as if it’s been decades.” 

Rhaenyra’s face looked melancholy. “It is selfish of me to say, but-” She sighed. “I wish you would have stayed.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “Has something happened?” 

She opened her mouth to speak but turned her head around, glaring at the man. “Did I tell you to stop playing?” 

“No, Princess.”

“Again, from the beginning.” She turned back, a faint frown on her lips. “I feel as though I am utterly alone here.” 

“I’m sure that isn’t true, Rhaenyra.” She whispered. “Have you spoken to Alicent?” 

 The princess scoffed. “I would rather fling myself off of the tallest tower.” 

Y/N glared playfully, smacking her arm. “Rhaenyra!” 

Rhaenyra giggled. “What?” 

“You mustn’t say such things.” 

“Are you going to run and tell her?” 

“You know I would never do that to you. And I know that you still hold love for Alicent." She smiled sympathetically. “You were once great friends.” 

She nodded. “Yes. Once. Before she married my father.” She turned back to the tree, retreating to her previous seat. “Come! Tell me of your adventures.” 

Y/N laughed, sitting beside her. “There’s not much to tell other than the fact that I am inexplicably happy. He’s kind to a fault and truly respects me and my opinion.” She smiled, leaning back into one of the many pillows that surrounded them. “It’s refreshing compared to the men we came to know in our youth.” Rhaenyra hummed, staring at her book, and Y/N smirked, nudging her. “And has the princess found interest in anyone as of late?” 

She laughed lightly. “The men brought before me are insulting. I want-” 

“Your Grace.” The singer stood, bowing. 

Rhaenyra didn’t bother looking up from her book. “Did I say to stop? From the beginning.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, but she made no comment. She was severely outranked, and there was no way she could come out of this situation unscathed if she chose to speak up. The man continued yet again. 

“Rhaenyra?” 

The princess huffed. “Yes, my queen?” 

“Your presence is wanted in the outer courtyard. The royal hunt readies to depart.” 

“I’ve decided to stay here and read instead.” 

Y/N whispered, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. “I only accepted the invitation because I knew you would be attending.��� She sighed. “Please.” 

Alicent had evidently had enough of his singing because she cut him off. “You may go, Samwell.” 

“You are to stay by order of the princess.” 

Y/N felt as if she should leave. It was uncomfortable enough being stuck in between the two when Alicent was first promised to Viserys, and the tension was practically visible between the two former friends. She began to stand, and Rhaenyra hissed, pulling her back down. “Don’t.” 

“The queen commands you to leave the Godswood at once.” Samwell nodded, leaving without another word. Y/N honestly wished to thank Alicent; his voice was quite annoying once you heard the same song three times over. “The king wishes for you to join us.” 

“The king has much to celebrate; he does not need me.” 

“He wants for us all to be together. Perhaps the hunt could be… fun.” 

Y/N nodded, looking back at Rhaenyra. “Together again.” 

The princess sighed, looking up from her book. “Is it the king’s command?” 

“Yes, but it-” 

She huffed, standing up. “Then at once, Your Grace.” 

“But it needn’t be.” Alicent looked positively miserable. “None of it needs be this way in truth, Rhaenyra.” 

The blonde girl looked at Y/N once more, nodding. “I’ll see you at the hunt.” Without sparing so much as a look at the queen, she retreated out of the Godswood, her hair swishing as she stepped. 

Y/N sighed, linking her arm through her sister-in-law’s. “Let me help you to the courtyard. I’m sure, being this far along, things have begun to hurt.” 

Alicent smiled. “It is easier the second time, but I would appreciate the company.” 

“So…” Y/N whispered. “Have you thought of any names?” 

“I must admit, I haven’t put much effort into that as I should.” 

“I’m sure you have a busy schedule.” She smiled sympathetically. “If you’d like, we can conjure some up while we attend the hunt.” 

“I’d like that.” She leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’d like that very much.” 

The royal carriage pulled into the campsite, the courtesans gathering around to greet them. Viserys exited first, followed by Alicent and Aegon. Y/N tilted her head, leaning over and whispering in her husband's ear. “Where’s Rhaenyra?” 

He simply shrugged, clapping loudly. His uncle grinned. “Hail, hail, Aegon the Conquerer Babe, second of his name! Here’s to his grace on his second name day!” 

Viserys smiled brightly, raising his son into the air. Thunderous applause echoed through the woods, but Y/N could not bring herself to be quite as enthusiastic. It seemed as if everything was off, different than how she’d left it. Minutes later, the crowd dispersed, but Y/N stayed, approaching the royal carriage. “May I come in?” 

Rhaenyra nodded, staring at the ground. “I will never understand why father has forced me to come along.” 

She placed a comforting hand over Rhaenyra’s. “Your father has always wished for his family to be happy and together.” She laughed. “Although he has a rather odd way of showing it.” 

Rhaenyra sighed, leaning her head back against the carriage wall. “Must I really go into the lion's den and entertain these lords and ladies?” 

“It is the life of being a princess, I imagine.” She smiled sympathetically. “One day, you will be queen, and you will be able to attend things at your leisure.” 

“When I am queen, we will not have hunts like these, I can assure you.” She smirked, looking out the open door. “I suppose I should leave the carriage.” 

“It would be wise, Princess.” Y/N grinned, nudging her friend. “If you need me, send word, and I will come.” 

She stood, curtsying when Rhaenyra called out. “I need you.” 

Y/N laughed. “Shall I accompany you, Your Highness?” 

“Yes,” Rhaenyra stood, linking her arm with Y/N’s. “You shall.” 

They walked down the steps together, entering the large red tent directly in front of them. Y/N leaned over, whispering in her friend's ear. “It is quite extravagant for a second name day. I doubt your brother will remember this.” 

The princess nodded, walking further into the tent. Voices could be heard gossiping, but one, predictably, stood amongst the rest. Ceira Lannister’s proud tone interrupted Lady Redwyne’s. “Lady Johanna was reported to have been abducted when one of Lord Swann’s ships sailed through the Stepstones.” 

“What will happen to Lady Johanna?” 

“She’s to be sold to a pillow house in the Free Cities if you believe the rumors.” 

A man’s voice spoke. “I fear the gods did not make me for hunting. Might I sit with you, my ladies?” 

“But of course, please join us.” Alicent smiled. She had always been kind-hearted. “Larys Strong, youngest son of our master of laws, Lord Lyonel.” 

“My lord husband says that no king has been able to tame the Stepstones for long. It’s an inhospitable place suited only for savages.” The pair rounded the lobby, peeking in through the curtains. 

“Perhaps the Princess…” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened. “Could provide us with some insight.” 

They stepped through, smiling. Rhaenyra laughed. “I’m not sure how I could; I’ve never been to the Stepstones.” 

“Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war. Is he not?” 

Y/N smiled condescendingly. “Are we so quick to blame family members for their relative's wrongdoings? I seem to remember, Lady Lannister, not long ago, your son Lord Jason almost burned the city’s sept to the ground.” She tilted her head. “Were you the great mind behind that exhibition?” 

Rhaenyra tensed. “I have not spoken to Daemon in years.”

The Lady Lannister’s face looked sour. “Since you supplanted him as heir, I imagine.” 

Alicent’s eyebrows raised. “Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira. The princess was more suited to the role.” 

Lady Redwyne sighed. “He’s made a mess, and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the triarchy for good.” 

Y/N murmured. “I was not aware you were the master of war.” 

Rhaenyra tilted her head. “But the crown is not at war.” 

“The crown is at war, Princess. Though your father refuses to admit it, we’ve been dragged into it by your Uncle and the Sea Snake.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to retort, but Rhaenyra beat her to it. “And how have you served the realm as of late, Lady Redwyne? By eating cake?” 

Rhaenyra waited for no response, dragging her friend outside as she laughed. “Where are we going?” 

“Anywhere but here.” She rolled her eyes. “None of those ladies have any idea what it is like to rule. What makes them think they can speak as if they do?” 

“It is just what they do, Your Highness.” She laughed. “And no one is a better gossip than the ladies we just encountered.” 

They stopped by the fire, staring into it. “I wonder, Princess-” Y/N fought the urge to groan. She was already annoyed, and now completely understood why Rhaenyra acted the way she had as of late. “Was your own second name day as grand as this?” 

 “I honestly don’t recall, and neither will Aegon.” 

The man stood, bowing before her. “Lord Jason Lannister.” Rhaenyra and Y/N smiled politely. 

“I gathered that from all the lions.” 

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He snapped, ushering over his servant. What a pompous man, Y/N thought. She pitied the poor woman who would have to marry him. She began to pull her arm out of Rhaenyra’s when she tightened her grip, sending her a quick cry for help. Y/N would have laughed if their company was not present. 

“Your twin serves on my father’s council.” 

“Tyland is frightfully dull; Gods love him.” He handed the pair of them cups, smiling proudly. “The finest honeyed wine you’ll ever taste. Made in Lannisport, of course.” 

Rhaenyra smiled back sarcastically. “Of course.” 

“The Kingswood, it’s fine hunting ground. But the best spot is to be found at Casterly Rock, near my home.” 

Y/N fought the urge to laugh. “I beg pardon, my lord, but I believe you are mistaken. The woods surrounding Old Town have been known for centuries for its hunting grounds.” She smiled. “King Jaehaerys himself often visited for the very same purpose.” 

The Lannister man smiled politely, whispering to Rhaenyra. “Might we talk alone, Princess?” 

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Lady Hightower is a good friend, my lord. Anything you wish to say may be said in front of her as well.”

He sighed, going back to his obviously prepared speech. “Have you been to Casterly Rock?” 

“Once, on tour with my mother when I was young, and I honestly cannot recall much of that either.” 

“The Rock is thrice the high of the Hightower in Oldtown,” at this Y/N had rolled her eyes. “Taller still than the Wall in the North. It’s been said that if one were to stand in the tower on a perfect day, one could see clear across the Sunset Sea.” 

“It must be quite something.” 

“I don’t have a Dragonpit, of course, but I do have the means and resources to build one.” 

Seven Hells. Y/N’s heart dropped. He was proposing to Rhaenyra. The Princess tilted her head. “Why would you need a Dragonpit?” 

“To house Dragons, of course.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d do anything for my queen or lady wife.” 

Y/N whispered. “Rhaenyra, perhaps we should-” 

Rhaenyra smiled, handing him back their cups. “Thank you for the wine.” She stalked back to the tent, practically dragging Y/N. 

“I think I’ll go find Gwayne for a moment,” Y/N called out. “I would prefer not to be stuck in the screaming match between you and your father.” 

The princess simply nodded, letting go of her friend's arm. Y/N huffed, smiling as her husband came into view. “My love.” 

He kissed the back of her hand. “Having fun?” 

“I forgot how exhausting it is to be her companion.” She frowned. “It must be horrible to be put on such a high pedestal.” 

Gwayne mumbled. “Imagine being the queen.” 

She looked over at Alicent, who looked lost in a sea of vipers. “Imagine.” 

Viserys’s voice carried above the rest, and Y/N sighed, leaning her head on her husband's arm. “It’s starting.” 

He looked puzzled. “What is, my dear?” 

She gestured over to the King and Princess, who were in a heated discussion. “The reason I came to find you. I knew they’d start yelling. I cannot tell you the amount of arguments I was stuck in the middle of.” She shivered. “Targaryens have the blood of dragons in their veins, and it is evident when they are angry.” 

The tent quieted, the whole of its inhabitants looking at the royals. Rhaenyra ran off, and Gwayne leaned down, whispering in Y/N’s ear. “Aren’t you going to go after her?” 

She shook her head, smiling sadly. “She always does best when she is by herself, given time to think.” She looked up, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.” 

“Oh?” He smirked, his eyes dark. “That is nice to know.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for his lips. “I live to serve you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “We both know that’s not true. Quite the opposite, really.” 

“Gwayne.” He hummed. “Stop talking and kiss me.” 

“Yes, my lady.” He leaned down, kissing her deeply. “Shall we retire early?” 

She gasped, hitting his chest indignantly. “It is only half past two.” 

��And?” 

“Y/N.” The pair broke apart, smiling at the King. “Your Grace.” 

He grinned. “How have you been, my dear?” 

“Well, my king.” She placed a hand on Gwayne’s chest, smiling up at him. “I have been very well.” 

“Shall I be hearing news of a babe anytime soon?” 

Her cheeks flushed, losing the ability to speak. She felt nauseous. Gwayne laughed. “Hopefully, Your Grace.” 

Viserys laughed along with her husband. “Perhaps you could tell Rhaenyra how rewarding marriage has been for you.” He failed to hide his annoyance. “She is quite stubborn about the idea.” 

“I’m sure she will come around in time, Your Grace.” She smiled. “Rhaenyra understands the importance, and with a kind match, she will be more than happy to fufill her duties. I am sure of it.” 

Viserys nodded. “Enjoy the hunt.” 

“We will. Thank you, Your Grace.” The king walked away, and Gwayne whispered. “Do you really believe she will be so willing?” 

“Seven Hells, no.” Y/N laughed. “I doubt she will marry willingly.” 

He smiled. "Were you once that way?"

"I remember rejecting your first proposal." She raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I would marry."

"I'm surprised."

"And why is that?"

He pulled her closer, a loving look in his eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't have a line of suitors out of the castle."

She laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "How sweet."

Gwayne laughed at the Lords who were shoving food down their throats like it was their last meal. “I thank the gods every day that I am not Lord of Hightower.” 

“And why is that husband?” 

“I would have to go on those dreadfully long and unfair hunts.” He laughed. “You know as well as I that hunting in Old Town is just that: hunting. We do not strap the beast down; we actually track the animals.”

She smiled. “What a kind man you are.” 

He glared. “Are you jesting?” 

She scoffed, acting surprised. “What would make you state such a claim? I am simply telling you how kind you are.” 

“For some reason,” He leaned down. “I do not believe you.” 

“Well, perhaps, dear husband,” She reached for his lips. “You should.” 

“We should retire.” He whispered. “They do not need us.” 

“I would love to retire.” 

He sighed. “But?” 

“But I feel horrible, leaving your sister by herself. Her husband…” She whispered. “Seems more preoccupied with his wine than her well-being.” 

He dropped in head on her shoulder, groaning. “Must you be so considerate?” 

“Yes,” she kissed his temple. “I must. Now remove your head from my shoulder. I want to sit with your sister.” 

He sat up, glaring. “You take the fun out of everything.” 

“That’s not what you said a fortnight ago.” She whispered, a chill running down his spine. “After I spend some time with her, I will be yours. I promise.” 

He smirked. “I look forward to it.” 

She stood up, curtsying in front of Alicent. “My Queen. May I?” 

She nodded eagerly. “Please.” The cupbearer came over, pouring her a glass. “Would you like some?” 

“I believe if I have any more, I will not be able to walk."

Alicent laughed. “Is my brother treating you well?” 

“He is a gracious husband," she smiled. "I wish you could have attended the wedding.” 

“I do as well.” She sighed. “I fear I have less freedom than one would think a queen is allowed.” 

“Surely Viserys understands your need to see family.” Y/N lamented. “Perhaps we could convince him of a trip to the country.” 

“Perhaps.” Alicent did not look hopeful. “He is rather preoccupied.”

“You have the ladies at court to keep you company, I hope?” 

“Yes…” She sighed. “But I find that I have few true friends at the moment.” 

“Alicent…” Y/N held her hands. “You have me.” 

Her eyes watered. “I miss when it was the three of us. Is that wrong to say?” 

Y/N shook her head. “I feel the same. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could go back.” 

“Does Gwayne not-” 

“I love your brother, truly.” She smiled. “But friends are important, good for the soul.” 

Alicent grinned, tears falling. “Please write to me.” 

“Of course.” She nodded. “Of course I will.” 

“Sister?” The girl turned around, smiling at her husband. “Are you alright?” 

The queen nodded. “I missed your wife’s company.” 

Gwayne grinned. "She is certainly something, isn't she?"

Y/N blushed, shoving him away. “I’m glad we made the trip.” 

“Shall I leave you two-” 

His sister shook her head. “I’m retiring.” She looked at Y/N once more. “I will miss you.” 

“I will miss you just as much.” Alicent stood, and Y/N walked into her husband's embrace. “You have made me a very happy wife, Gwayne.” 

“Well, I live to serve you.” He smirked. “You are my joy.” 

“You flatter me.” 

“It is true. I am not a liar, as you well know.” He slung an arm across her shoulders. “Let us go to bed.” 

"I'm not feeling tired." She grinned mischievously. "Are you?"

"Quite the opposite." Once they left the tent, he put his arm under her legs, sweeping her off her feet. Y/N giggled, leaning her head against his chest.

"I'm glad we understand each other."

He pushed through their tent's entrance, dropping her on the bed and hovering over her. "Have I told you how much I long for you?"

She shook her head, blushing.

He sighed, leaning down. "Let me show you."

“Rhaenyra!” Y/N called out, racing towards her friend. She hugged her quickly. “We were worried.” 

“We?” The princess smirked. “Or my father?” 

Y/N frowned. “I will miss you dearly.” 

"Have you not heard? I’m being sent on a tour to find a suitor of my choosing.” 

“That’s wonderful. I knew your father would come around.” 

She squinted. “My father said it was your words that made his mind.” 

“I-” Realization dawned on her. “I said that you would possibly be inclined to marry if you found a kind match you will be more than willing to fulfill your duties.” 

“Well, whatever you said, I am glad of it. One of the stops is Old Town.” She grinned. “I will see you in just a few short months.” 

“I am counting the days.” Gwayne waved her over, and Y/N curtsied. “Princess.” 

She ran over to her husband, and he caught her, laughing at her enthusiasm. “You are quite bubbly this morning.” 

She grinned, whispering in his ear. “I had a rather productive night.” 

“Productive?” He raised an eyebrow. “I would say romantic.” 

She nodded. “Yes, of course.” Walking towards the carriage, she gasped when he shut the door, his grin resembling that of a wolf. “Perhaps I should show you the meaning of the word.” 

Y/N blushed, biting her lip. “Yes." She leaned back. "Perhaps you should.”