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jayke0 · 17 days

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And They Were Roommates

Summary: You catch your roommate, Marc, having some private time, and it's only when he comes at the sight of you that something inside you is released.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Friends to lovers? Male masturbation, fluffy/soft sex, Marc being insecure at first cuz he hasn't had his chode ridden in a while, some nipple play (f receiving), protected sex (pill), mention of female masturbation, p in v, breeding if you squint, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,275

A/N: Uhmmmm so i accidentally posted this too early, so if you see it please reblog so it reaches others! Thankyouuuu

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

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Marc Spector had always found himself to be a very private man. You're lucky to have even gotten a glimpse at his phone that one time, given how precisely he guards what little personal belongings he has and hides his emotions behind a stone-cold glare.

That's why he always waits for you to go out before he touches himself.

He'd gotten into the habit of it after realizing the wall dividing your bedrooms is so paper thin that he could hear every word the character was saying on whatever show you'd been watching at the time.

The anticipation; the waiting was always the worst. You'd take your sweet sweet time getting ready and checking your shopping list, only to forget something and come back 2 minutes later; luckily, he'd gotten used to that part too. Though, as much as he pretended he hated it, he actually found it quite endearing; a little quirk of yours that made you so fucking adorable to him.

“I'll be back in an hour!” Marc hears your voice echo through the hall, simply responding with a grunt that was somewhere along the lines of ‘alright’. He hears that first front door slam and waits a couple of minutes, before excitedly scrambling to his bedroom, cock already twitching at the prospect of release.

He'd had a particularly hard few days (pun intended), and with you deciding you didn't want to venture out, he was left to let his mind wander, only to blueball-ball himself in the process.

He's quick to grab his earphones and settle down comfortably in his bed, pulling his t-shirt off swiftly and practically ripping his jeans off. It doesn't take long before he's got his cock in hand, fisting his throbbing length harshly as girly moans fill his ears and do wonders for his imagination.

Oh, how he tries not to think about you. He knows It's creepy, and he knows that if you found out you'd probably kick him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, but it's so hard. His thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the beads of precum and spreading it over himself.

You're always so perfect, so gorgeous. The sun always seems to land on your face beautifully and illuminate each of your features. He twists his hand expertly and pulls a string of breathy gasps from his chest as he squeezes the tip.

The way you walk through the living room in just a towel, dripping wet; it's almost like you're tempting him.

He's now frantically thrusting into his hand at the image in his mind, low moans and growls escaping through his gritted teeth as his head tilts back and the tendons in his neck bulge at the stretch. That coil is tightening faster that he can control, his brain foggy with thoughts of you, just you you you. The thoughts are so close that he swears he can hear you calling his name, begging him to ruin your cunt and fill you u–.

A cold feeling runs through his body as his head shoots up, his eyes meeting your shocked gaze. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he needed as he's sent tumbling over the edge. Hot white ropes spill from his ruddy tip and splatter across his toned chest, huffed moans and curses falling from his lips as he fucks his hand through his orgasm.

It's only when he finally opens his eyes again that the guilt hits him and he scrambles to pull his boxers back up, trying to put his still throbbing cock away.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry, didn't realise you were there! I- I had my headphones in–.” He pulls them out, trying to wipe the evidence of his sins off of his chest, but your soft hand stops him; yes, you had gotten closer.

You watch as his dark eyes trail up your arm to your face, a cocktail of dread, fear, and… something else, all brewing in his gaze; it makes you want him even more.

“I'm not mad, Marc.”

“Creeped out, then?...”

Your thumb runs over his knuckles, feeling how warm and soft his hands are. “No. I mean, I probably should be, but fuck,” your eyes are drawn to his twitching length fighting against the restraints of his tight boxers. Carefully, you crawl onto the bed, straddling his legs far enough away from his body so he can push you off if he's uncomfortable.

You inch closer to him, “ ‘s this ok?” Hands either side of his thighs, your words are soft and breathy, your eyes gazing at him with a look that is sickeningly sweet.

It makes his head wurl, a tight feeling constricting in his chest as the prettiest girl in the world sits virtually in his lap. “Yes–” his voice breaks, making you chuckle softly. “Yeah, it's more than ok.” His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and you feel it as you place your hands on his chest to shuffle closer to him.

“You looked so handsome like that, Marc.” You compliment with a smile, leaning in to brush your lips across his and feel him take in a sharp breath. He catches your lips and pecks them with adoration, letting a longer kiss linger on them as you press closer to him still. After a few seconds, he moves his hands to rest on your waist, one running up your back to cup the back of your head as he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth, and you happily oblige.

Months worth of feelings are poured into the kiss, both of you slowly and softly lapping and sucking at each other's lips before you dissolve into panting messes, biting and licking fiercely as if trying to eat each other whole.

“God damn, Spector, you're a great kisser,” you giggle softly, pulling from his lips to appreciate the shiny and red mess you'd made of him. A familiar growl rumbles in his chest, one that you'd learnt was an appreciative noise rather than something to be put off by.

“You can talk, y'know. You're not gonna scare me off.”

Briefly, you see insecurity paint across his face. It's something that you'd never seen before, a small crack in the otherwise solid structure of his frigid expression. On instinct, you brush his curls from his forehead and cup his cheeks, “I trust you, Marc, it's ok. I'm not here to judge you.”

His shoulders seem to relax as he nods a little, “I'm sorry. I don't do this often, if you hadn't noticed.”

You laugh softly and pat his chest, “that's ok, neither do I,” you smile as you sit back on your heels and pull your t-shirt off over your head. You take his hands gently and place them on your breasts, “none of them were you.”

You swear that you see him change in that moment, your words sinking in and his eyes turning hungry. His thumbs run over your hardening nipples as he surges forwards to seize you in another burning kiss that has you hot and breathless this time.

“Jesus, Marc…” a soft whine is pulled from your lips as he glides his lips down and over your neck, focusing on the pulse point below your jaw by nibbling and sucking softly. He's surprisingly quick at unclasping your bra, and he pulls away a little to admire your body.

“Shit, you're gorgeous,” he mumbles, thumbs running underneath your boobs before they work up and run across your nipples, making a gasp get caught in your throat. “You always have been gorgeous. I always look at you and think ‘fuck how doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?’”

“ ‘Cause I've been waiting to fuck my roommate…” You chuckle softly, feeling him chuckle too as his head dips to your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue sliding over and swirling around the hard bud in a way that leaves you grinding against his thigh. Suddenly, your jeans feel so restricting, like they're choking you, stopping you from appreciating any pleasure that Marc offers you, which is why you're quick to unbutton them and slip them off… All while your roommate sucks on your tits.

“God. Do you know how many times I've touched myself hoping you’d catch me?” Your words are breathless as your body rolls against his mouth and a pleased noise from the man reverberates over your nipple. “Left my door open just a crack in hopes my moans would grab your attention, and you'd come and fuck me right…”

He audibly groans at that, pulling away to look at you again while his hands travel to your waistband.

”You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that.”

He hungrily pulls your underwear down your thighs and off with his own following soon after, leaving you both naked and messily grinding against each other as you're caught up in yet another kiss.

You glance down eventually, being treated with the glorious sight of his thick cock throbbing and spilling pre-cum… Or maybe it's cum from his previous orgasm, either way it makes you clench your toes.

“It's bigger when I'm this close,” a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

“I know, I know. That's also why I don't fuck much.” He laughs breathily and grips his length at the base, running it between your sopping folds and circling your clit perfectly. You grind down on his tip with a moan and pant.

“We don't have too, if you don't want to.” He reminds softly, pressing a few more kisses on your jaw, but you're quick to shake your head and grip his shoulders, “I need you inside me, Marc. Needed it since the day i fucking met you.”

You certainly don't have to tell him twice.

He's sinking inside you before you can even process his tip probing your hole. It's such a delicious stretch, one that spreads throughout your body and along your nerves. You sink down on him further, wanting to sheath him inside you whole.

You'd like to think that Marc knows you're on birth control, given the endless packets and the way you often rant to him about the imperfections of the drug. You're hoping he knows this, because you're hoping he cums inside you.

“Fucking hell Marc, shit…” You pant softly and look down between your bodies, your hands holding onto his shoulders As he grips your waist and guides you; down down down till you're sat in his lap.

You feel so full like that, and honestly you could probably just roll your hips and cum right there, but it's not long before your roommate is lifting you off of himself just to impale you once again. A rush of pleasure runs through your veins and makes your cunt clench around the girth, both of you groaning as you capture his lips again.

“Dammit… you're lucky you're hot, or I would've kicked you out–ah- for being a creep–”

“You were the one watching me stroke my fucking cock. You liked it deep down.” The man growls on your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat as you nod a little, dumbly. His breath is hot on your lips, each of your moans being swallowed by laboured gasps from the other as his hips rock up.

Although the pace isn't fast, you already feel wrecked. The stretch is so fucking good, and the way he hits your sweet spot everytime has you weak at the knees for this man, your groans turning into gasps and drawn out moans.

“M-arc, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer…” You whine pathetically, but this only makes him move faster, now bringing you down on his cock as he thrusts up harshly and sends waves of pleasure through you as he does so. “That's it, baby. Wanna feel you cum All over my cock; cum all over your roommate's cock… shit, you're so filthy, sweetheart.”

His words have your nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs burning as they finally give up and you let Marc use you, use your cunt for his own damn pleasure. The whole idea has you arching your back, and finally, with your shaky fingers circling your clit, you go crashing over that edge. Your thighs instantly clench together as whorish moans are pulled from your lungs and fill the room, ecstasy washing over you in waves and taking you to a place that you didn't even know existed, not until Marc.

Your clenching cunt is what finishes Marc off, that and the beautiful sounds you make as you come. Your walls milk him dry, taking every drop from him and more as he fills your cunt with that delicious warmth.

You sink back down on him finally and practically collapse into his chest, your arms wrapping around His torso tightly as you try and catch your breath.

The warmth that spreads through Marc's heart in that moment is almost unbearable. It's a feeling he's wanted for a long time, one that he doesn't even know how long will last, but he's sure as hell is not gonna waste it worrying.

You feel his large arms wrap around you tightly, a kiss placed on your shoulder, and then his warm breath sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Never took you as a cuddler, Marc Spector.” You mumble softly into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart as it slows to a comforting pace.

“I'm full of surprises, sweetheart.”

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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cupidysm @clemdango04 @flowercrownonapegion @spxctorsslxt

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

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no nut november — felix (loser #6)

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, special guest appearance, jealousy, smut (18+), fwb, protected sex, hard(ish) dom!felix, spit kink, choking, multiple orgasms, orgasm control

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i’s collab <3

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist

No one had expected Felix to last this long, least of all Felix himself. When he woke up to Chan’s text saying he lost, he almost couldn’t believe it. Bang Chan was one of the most competitive members of the group. He honestly thought Chris would have had a little more control.

But Chan’s loss left Felix in the final three, which felt like a big deal. Felix considers himself to be competitive as well, even though he isn’t particularly good at games. He isn’t particularly good at not cumming either, so it’s a miracle that he hasn’t yet. He hadn’t put much stake in the bet at the beginning since he didn’t think he had any chance at winning, anyway, but as more members dropped out and the finish line crept closer, he began to take it more seriously.

He’d even been so careless to have tried to have sex with you at the beginning of the month, convincing himself he could last through it, before pulling out a couple minutes in with a frantic “no no no no no!”

Felix hasn’t taken any risks since then.

You’ve been completely understanding about it, to his relief, and haven’t stopped hanging out with him even though you know you won’t be getting laid like you usually would. That type of behavior is obviously expected from a girlfriend, but you’re not his girlfriend even though he treats you like one and talks about you to the guys as if you are. They all know it’s not official and if Felix refers to you as “his girl” without actually making you his girl one more time, he’s convinced Chan’s gonna slap him. He’d deserve it, to be fair. He’s a coward and he knows it.

You’re not dating, you’re simply friends with benefits and he likes it like that- at least that’s what he tells himself. It takes the pressure off. Even though you’re not exclusive, he’s not fucking anyone else. You are kind of his person in his mind but he would never admit that out loud. He loves spending time with you and going on dates with you and waking up next to you, but at the end of the day he’s a bit of a commitmentphobe. So what if it’s a shitty excuse? He just doesn’t want to fuck up what you guys have going on and lose you completely. Maybe one day he’ll get the balls to have that talk with you, but for now he’s content with the dynamic you already have, that is until the last week of November.

The end of the month is just around the corner and victory is so close he can taste it. He’s been doing so well, resisting the urge to touch you whenever he’s near you. You’re over a lot these days, which he loves but also hates because of how hard you make everything, literally.

You’re in his bed today, dangerous territory already, but Minho and Seungmin were occupying the living space so you had no choice but to hang out in his room. Somehow you’d ended up tangled together beneath his sheets, making out and desperately grabbing at each other. Felix feels you grind into him, feels himself getting harder in response, and realizes he won’t be able to stop if you keep going like this. He’s so tempted to just say fuck it and throw caution to the wind, but he’s so close to winning that he knows he’ll never forgive himself if he gives in now.

Felix forces himself to pull back, breaking the kiss. “We should... probably stop,” he says breathlessly, hating himself for ruining the mood.

You take a moment to process and then push yourself away from him, nodding. “Oh, right. I totally forgot about the bet, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to- that I haven’t been able to you know.”

“Lix, how many times have I told you it’s not a big deal?”

“It’s not fair to you, though. I hate leaving you hanging when you’re horny.” And you seem really horny. You were all up on Felix a few seconds ago, already whimpering into his mouth and tugging at the buttons on his shirt.

You scoff. “It’s not like I’m going to die if I don’t get some dick in the next hour.”

“You’re all worked up now, though, and-”

“I promise you, Felix, it’s fine. I’ll just call Wooyoung to pick me up in like thirty minutes.”

Felix nods before he processes what you’ve said, then it clicks and he whips his head back up to look at you. “Wooyoung? Jung Wooyoung?”

“Mhm.”

“Why would he pick you up when I can just take you back home myself-”

“Lix, he wouldn’t be taking me home...” you trail off a little uncomfortably.

“What, are you guys like fucking or something?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, a suggestion so outlandish that it would break the tension but you don’t laugh. Felix panics.

“Wait, seriously?”

You sit up and cross your arms over your chest. “I mean, not as often as you and I but yeah... we hang out sometimes.”

“And by ‘hang out’, you mean his dick hangs out inside of you?”

“Lee Felix!”

“Sorry! It’s just... this is news to me, that’s all.”

That’s not all, and Felix is afraid you can see right through him but he tries to brush it off anyway.

“Are you okay?” you ask tentatively, reaching for him.

He jerks away from you out of instinct and immediately regrets it. This is not a good look for him and he knows it. He huffs out a breath and takes your hand in apology, squeezing in reassurance.

“Lix... is this going to be a problem?”

“N-no, no it won’t be,” he lies. “Just, will you stay a little longer tonight?”

You soften. “Yeah, of course.”

Felix shifts on the bed and pulls you in close, playing with your hair as you nestle yourself into his side. He thinks back to the last time he saw Wooyoung. It was at some stupid after party for The Fact Awards, just over a month ago. You were Felix’s date, he’d gone to get you both a flute of champagne from the table of refreshments, and when he came back, you were in the middle of conversation with Wooyoung.

Felix didn’t even know you knew each other. If he had, he would have invited you to more of their Strayteez hangouts- any excuse to spend more time with you, honestly.

He approached the two of you and presented you with your drink, placing his newly free hand on the small of your back as he sipped from his glass.

“Felix!” Wooyoung exclaimed and pulled the younger man in for a hug. Felix nearly spilled his champagne down Wooyoung’s back but managed to hold it just out of the way so that only a little bit splashed out onto the floor.

When Wooyoung finally released him, Felix looked between the two of you, trying to connect the dots.

“So how do you guys know each other?” he asked.

You just exchanged looks with Wooyoung and chuckled awkwardly, something Felix hadn’t caught on to at the time.

He feels like an idiot looking back on it. Wooyoung had known this whole time that they were both sleeping with you and never thought to mention it. It was technically none of Felix’s business, but he couldn’t help feeling betrayed by his friend. And Changbin! He was even better friends with Wooyoung than Felix was. He had to have known you were hooking up and also managed to neglect sharing that important piece of information. He would be having words with that man whenever you left and he got back from his girlfriend’s house.

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” you whisper all of the sudden, breaking the silence. “I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I know you can be sensitive about these things so-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Felix blurts out.

“But-”

“We’re not exclusive or anything and we agreed on that. As long as you’re being safe with him...”

You nod. “You don’t have to worry about that. We use condoms, just like us. No one’s getting an STI.”

Felix hums thoughtfully. He’s honestly relieved that you aren’t letting Wooyoung fuck you raw, not because he’s worried about protection even though that is a concern, but moreso because it would imply you like him more or you’re more serious about him than you are about Felix. It’s a petty victory but a victory nonetheless.

He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, enjoying the feeling of having you close. It’s not a very ‘friends with benefits’ thing to do so he hopes you don’t mind, but you don’t move away from him which he takes as a good sign.

“Don’t go to his place tonight,” Felix murmurs into your hair. “Let- let me take care of you instead.”

You stiffen in his arms. “But... the bet.”

“I don’t fucking care,” he rasps.

You turn a little more so that you can face him. “Felix, I’ll stay. We don’t have to have sex.”

“I want to,” he insists. “Unless you don’t?”

“No, I want to,” you assure him.

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Positive. I was all over you not even ten minutes ago, remember?”

Felix grins. “I remember, I remember. But things can change, you know?”

“You’re sweet,” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth like you were rewarding him for it.

“I try.”

“So how do you want me?” you ask.

He takes a moment to think about it. “Um, want me on top?”

“Mhm that sounds good.”

“Yeah? You like just laying there and looking pretty? Like me taking control?”

The change in his demeanor makes you whimper, stroking Felix’s ego significantly. He pushes the blankets off of your bodies and rolls on top of you, taking your chin in his hand so that he can force you to look up at him.

You arch to kiss him but he dodges you, smirking and still holding your jaw in place. You pout and try to turn your head to the side to break out of his grasp but he manages to keep his grip, surprising you both. Felix isn’t weak, but it’s usually pretty easy for you to overpower him. When you realize you can’t this time you stop trying, relaxing back into the mattress with a sigh of annoyance.

“Look at me.”

You do, eyes wide and eager. He spreads his fingers until his thumb is resting on one of your cheeks and the rest of his fingers are splayed out across the other, squeezing your face gently to get you to open your mouth.

“C’mon, baby. A little wider.” You obey easily and Felix spits into your mouth. “Swallow. Good girl.”

He’s quick to undress you both so that he can get his head between your legs, needing to taste you after going so long without having you on his tongue. You’re wetter than he expected and he can’t stop himself from groaning at the sight.

“God, baby, making a mess already. Gonna have to change my sheets after this.”

His comment makes you shrink into yourself in embarrassment. “You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”

Felix grins. “I know.”

He makes you cum with his tongue and his fingers twice, feeling a little like he has something to prove after learning that he has competition. He wants to go for another, but his cock is aching at this point and he’s worried he’ll cum his pants before he gets to fuck you if he does.

“Still okay?” he asks, checking in.

“Perfect,” you respond. “You’re so good at that.”

Better than him? Felix wants to ask, but he doesn’t. He’s not entirely sure he wants the answer to the question, not entirely sure he’ll believe you if you tell him what he wants to hear.

“Are you good to keep going?”

“Yes, please fuck me already.”

Felix chuckles. “Always so impatient.”

“You would be too if you knew how good your dick is.”

He curses, dick twitching. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“I try,” you parrot.

Felix gets up on his knees and reaches over to his bedside table. He opens the first drawer and pulls out a condom, bringing the foil packet to his teeth to rip it open when you suddenly reach out to stop him.

“Let me?” you ask.

“Yeah, baby. Go ahead.”

He hands it to you and watches as you do the same thing he was about to. You take the condom out of the wrapper and hand the trash back to Felix. He scoffs but accepts it anyway and tosses it in the bin that was easily within your reach without complaint.

You pull his boxers down just below his butt, just enough to get his cock out, and roll on the condom, jerking him a few times before you do. You’ve never done this for him before and it all feels very intimate. His breath catches in his throat when you touch him for the first time and he shudders. He makes himself stay very still as you work. One wrong move and he’ll cum all over your hand and ruin everything.

He’s in awe of how careful you are with it. You gently guide the material down his length, making sure that the elastic doesn’t accidentally pinch him in the process.

“That feel okay?” you ask once it’s on all the way.

“Mhm. Now come here.”

He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls, yanking you forward and making your head fall back onto the pillow. Once your body is flush with his, he positions himself and guides his cock inside of you, holding his breath yet again as his name falls from your lips in a strained whisper.

God, this was a mistake. He’s going to embarrass himself, isn’t he? Why did he think this was a good idea? Why did he let his jealousy color his judgment? It wasn’t even about the bet anymore. He already knew he wouldn’t last when he decided to fuck you. He wasn’t that naive.

No, it was the fact that his pride was on the line and it’s taking all of his strength and willpower not to cum on the spot. It’s been weeks since he’s felt you, felt anything for that matter, obviously it was going to feel incredible.

Felix always cums faster than he wants to when he’s with you. The (literal) grip your pussy has on him is ridiculous. Does Wooyoung have this problem? Honestly, probably. Felix likes to think that anyone in his position would struggle.

“Fuck, fuck, don’t move,” Felix pleads. “Just. Stay like that. One second.”

You start to nod before remembering what ‘don’t move’ means and then freeze in place, mild concern replacing the lust reflected in your eyes.

“I’m fine,” he grunts out and closes his eyes, willing the feeling to pass.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m s-sure.”

He can tell you don’t believe him but you don’t press any further which he’s thankful for. You wait patiently for him to recompose himself and when he finally does, he asks you if he’s good to start moving.

“Yeah, give it to me.”

“Careful what you ask for.”

You roll your eyes and wrap your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper inside of you with a smirk. Brat.

“Behave,” he warns.

“Or what?” you challenge, raising your eyebrows.

“Do you really want to go there?”

You shrug indifferently. “Haven’t decided. Now, are you going to fuck me or what?”

He has to cover your mouth with his hand when he starts snapping his hips into yours, forgetting about how loud you get when you’re this worked up.

“Baby, we’re not home alone, you have to be quiet,” he hisses, even though he’d much rather hear all your pretty sounds.

“Feels too good,” you whine. “Fuck me harder, Lix! Please, harder...”

“Harder? Gonna break you in half if I go any harder.”

“Yes, yes, break me in half,” you sob. “It’s been so long. Missed this so much.”

“Will you be good and stay quiet for me if I give you what you want?”

You nod. “I can be good.”

“Are you lying?”

You hesitate. “Maybe.”

Felix laughs coldly and shakes his head in disbelief.

“But not because I don’t want to be good!” you protest. “I just can’t help it.”

“I know, baby,” he coos condescendingly. “Can’t even think straight when you’re so fucked out like this, isn’t that right?”

“Uh-huh.”

The change in dynamic is almost comical. Mere minutes ago, Felix could barely move without cumming, too lost in the feeling of your hot cunt to concentrate. Now, you’re the one gasping for air and clawing at his back like an animal. Even Felix is surprised by the amount of self-control he’s exerting. He’s using it to his advantage though, taking the opportunity to thoroughly ruin you like you deserve.

Even if you’re completely silent, the sounds coming from Felix’s room are obscene and anyone that walks by would immediately know what you were up to. Seungmin or Minho had probably already texted the groupchat announcing Felix’s loss but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make you feel better than Wooyoung ever could.

“Does he fuck you like this? Huh?” Felix is wandering into dangerous territory, he knows, but he can’t help asking. He needs to know. “Does he make you feel this good? Cum this hard?”

“No!” you cry. “No, he doesn’t!”

“Be honest,” he growls, wrapping his hand around your throat. He only applies a little pressure, just enough to make you lightheaded the way you like.

“I am! I’m being honest, I promise.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Lix, ‘m gonna... gonna cum,” you whine.

“Who told you you could do that?”

Your eyes get wide at his response, bottom lip trembling. “What?”

“Who gave you permission to cum?” Felix demands. He’s right there on the edge himself so he doesn’t really know why he’s dragging it out, but he just wants to see you squirm a little more.

Thankfully, you’re quick to adapt to the new rules. “Can I? Can I please cum? I need it, baby. Please make me cum... please tell me I can. I’m not gonna be able to stop myself if you don’t...”

The desperation in your eyes does something for him, and knowing he can’t hold back any longer, he relents. “Go ahead. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby.”

He’s only halfway through the sentence when your body locks up and you scream his name, gushing around his cock. If he’d waited any longer you wouldn’t have been able to obey him. He helps you ride it out by rubbing your clit and fucking you through it, letting his own orgasm wasm over him as you’re still clenching around him.

“Oh god, I’m cumming. I’m cumming, fuck!” he groans, making a last ditch effort to stop it before it happens. But his efforts are in vain because it’s too late and he’s cumming into the condom so hard his vision whites out.

When he starts to come down, you’re still weakly rocking your hips into his, whimpering with every thrust.

Felix winces at the oversensitivity but doesn’t stop you. With how long it’s been since he last got off it won’t be long until he’s hard again.

“Insatiable tonight, aren’t you?” he muses. “Came three times and still want more.”

You frown and try to get yourself to stop without much success. It’s like your hips are moving on their own accord. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Want you to be satisfied.”

“God, you’re so good to me,” you moan and wrap your arms around Felix’s neck, making his chest feel tight all of the sudden.

“It’s what you deserve.”

He doesn’t have enough energy to hold himself up above you properly so he has you roll over onto your side so that he can slip himself inside of you and you can fuck yourself back against him that way.

While you’re doing that, Felix feels around the bed for his phone, grabbing it when he feels it under one of his pillows.

Like he predicted, he doesn’t even have to announce his loss because his roommates did it for him.

Min: Felix lost

Chris: what? how do you know?

Seungmin: we heard it happening :/

Min: and we’re traumatized

Innie: thank god i wasn’t home

Felix: you guys could have LEFT. you didn’t HAVE to listen!!!! btw changbin i need to talk to you

Min: oh no not his government name. someone’s in troubleeee

Binnie: um. 0.0 should i be worried

Felix doesn’t respond right away, wanting to make Changbin sweat a little for the trouble he’d put him through.

He puts his phone on his bedside table so he doesn’t lose it in his bedding again and turns his attention back to you. The oversensitivity had started to bleed together with pleasure and Felix could feel his cock getting stiff again. He groans and buries his face in your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

There was still a lot to talk about with you. He needed to address his feelings, be honest about everything. But for now...

“Round two?”

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady—-boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter

#no nut november #no nut november stray kids #nnn skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix smut #felix x reader #flashing tw #lee felix smut #lee yongbok smut #yongbok smut #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you

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writingforstraykids · 12 days

Text

Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home.

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties.

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it.

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids.

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied.

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest.

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you.

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied.

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned.

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes.

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze.

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time.

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms.

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms.

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately.

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely.

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back.

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee”

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage.

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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queers-gambit · 4 months

Text

The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

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#daemon #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen x female!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen angst #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x f!reader #prince daemon targaryen x female!reader #prince daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen fanfiction #prince daemon targaryen angst

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souliebird · 8 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 3]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 |

words: 9.1k

You change aspects of your outfit about seven times before you finally settle on something you deem acceptable.

You know the meeting isn't about you, but you can't help but want to dress nicely. But not too nicely that this will no longer be a casual lunch. You choose one of your nicer t-shirts with your nice jeans and try to be fancy by doing a French tuck, but kind of ruin the vibe by pairing it all with your walking sneakers. Minnie picked them out and they are obnoxiously neon orange, but they are incredibly comfortable and supportive. It's warm out, so you do something with your hair that is simple and won't get in the way.

You even dabble in some make-up. Nothing fancy but enough that you no longer look a little too tired.

Minnie, of course, is perceptive to your nerves and also wants to Dress Up. This, of course, means her Princess dress and you want her in a good mood, so you turn your daughter into a giant pink and yellow cupcake. She is absolutely thrilled to be able to wear it out so getting all packed up and ready to go goes smoothly. You debate telling her that you are going to meet someone but ultimately decide against it. She's already picked up on how nervous you are. If you tell her she will be meeting a new person, she might start getting upset and you aren't going to chance ruining her mood. So you bundle her into her stroller and start towards the diner at a quarter 'til eleven.

You want to get there early and get all settled before Matt arrives - maybe get a few doodles in on the sketchbook you've packed so Minnie is nice and distracted. It is a pretty day out and you take your time as you walk, not wanting to get all sweaty after dressing up.

It is a route you've taken many times before, so you let your mind wander as you stroll.

You had needed a full day to process that you had found Minnie's father and he wanted to be in both of your lives. It recontextualized so much. You had spent your entire evening reading 'how to co-parent' articles and making lists - you now had about three pages filled with your daughter's likes and dislikes, contact information for anyone Matt might need to reach out to, and multiple different schedules. Your plan is to make him a huge binder, filled with whatever he might need to know.

You don't know if you are going overboard or not but this is how you are dealing with everything.

You don't exactly have anyone you can reach out to to talk with. You aren't close enough with anyone who you would feel comfortable opening up to about Matt. You know you should probably find a therapist but there is no way you can afford one.

To be fair, you aren't even sure how you feel about everything. You put your emotions aside to deal with all the practical changes and to focus on your daughter's well-being. Despite all your anxieties, everything has been going as well as you think it should go. You've only had two conversations, but you are hoping the trend continues. You desperately want Minnie to smothered with people who adore her because you never had that and you pray Matt wants the same.

As you cross into Hell's Kitchen, your heart starts beating a little harder in your chest. You can't fight your nerves, so you try to channel them into something productive.

"Do you know where we're going, Mouse?" You ask as you wait at a corner.

"Chicky waffles!" is the excited response, making you chuckle.

"Exactly, we're gonna go have some chicky waffles," you say with a little smile. Chicken and waffles is a featured menu item at the diner and for some reason considered your daughter's Celebration Meal. "And if you aren't too sleepy afterwards, we can do something fun."

Minnie gives an excited wiggle in her stroller, "I wanna see the duckies!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, we can go see the duckies after lunch." You are hoping the promise of something she wants to do will come with the desire to behave, even if she starts to get fussy. You know you can't stop a tantrum if meeting Matt does truly upset her, but you can try your best to deter them.

You are being overly precautious. You know you are, but you couldn't turn your mind off if you tried.

You've long accepted your fate and just try to navigate your anxiety the best you can.

As Minnie lists off what she's named all the ducks, you debate coming up with some talking points for her and Matt. You doubt they have similar interests, though you know that doesn't mean much - as you don't have similar interests as your daughter - but animals and food are easy discussions. You worry when it comes to art, things may get a little harder.

You have no idea how to explain blindness to Minnie. You are really hoping that Matt has that experience and can help her understand. After all, you don't actually know how much he can see. You know he needs Braille - his flirting at the holiday party all those years ago had been to ask you to read the drink menu to him - and uses a cane, but that doesn't mean he can't see shapes and such. You definitely do not want to speak for him about his abilities.

Maybe afterwards you can look up some videos to help Minnie understand better. There's a plethora of resources online, you just need to know what to look for - a jumping off point. Blind parents with Seeing children are not a new thing and you bet you can find a bunch of tactile art projects beyond folding paper that would suit Minnie's age.

The diner comes into view and you sigh in relief over the lack of a crowd. Maybe the Fates had smiled on you and everyone else would find somewhere else to have lunch. There is no one standing around outside, so you use the space to take Minnie out of her stroller. Instantly she tries to help you unpack, dragging her backpack out of the little storage area under the seat. You grab your purse and a collapsible booster seat, then start to fold up the stroller while she patiently waits.

She's still too small to pull open the heavy glass door of the diner, but that doesn't stop her from trying. She tugs on it twice before you are able to help her. She beams up at you and you return your little girl's smile as you enter the diner.

"Oh, well don't you look special," the waitress, Linda, says as she comes around the counter with some menus. You are convinced she must live above the diner because she is always there - but it also means Minnie is comfortable with her, so your daughter does a little twirl to show off her dress.

"We're gonna see the ducks!"

"I see," Linda coos, "Well in that case, you're going to need a nice lunch to fill you up. Lemme see now, it looks like your booth is all open, so why don't we get you all settled in?"

Minnie takes off across the diner to the booth while you lean the stroller in the corner where you've been told you can store it. Once that is done, you head over to the booth.

Linda places a menu where you will be sitting and as you slide into the seat next to Minnie, you ask for an additional menu in Braille. She looks a little surprised at the request, but doesn't question it and the menu is quickly placed across from you.

Minnie doesn't pay attention to the second menu at all, focused on pulling out her crayons and paper. She knows as long as she doesn't make a mess she's allowed to play on the table here and she doesn't waste any time getting right to it.

"What do you want to drink, sweet pea?" Linda asks.

"Lemonade, please, thank you!" Minnie answers like a little princess. Linda smiles at the response and asks the same to you, without the term of endearment.

"An iced tea, please," you reply. You wait until she turns to go back behind the counter to pop open the booster seat. You set it on the seat beside Minnie and she carefully climbs into it before going back to laying out her crayons.

"Do you want chicky waffles?" You ask Minnie. She shakes her head, ignoring you in favor of starting to scribble. You wait a few moments, giving her a chance to think and reply but that doesn't happen. You say her name, then repeat the question.

"No, I want grilled cheese," she says, looking up, "with fruit. Please. Thank you."

"With fruit?" You confirm, a little amused at the declaration. She nods and goes back to her work.

You refuse to check the time. You know as soon as you do you'll spiral into an anxiety attack, so instead, you drag the menu over to you and start reading it over. You don't really know what you want - your stomach is more nerves than hunger.

Linda drops off your drinks with a little smile, "I'll be back for your orders."

"Thank you," both you and Minnie say.

You fall into a silence, half looking over the menu and half watching Minnie drag her crayon over the page. She's got the yellow one in her little fist and you wonder what could be going on in that head of hers. You hope her thoughts are good ones - all about ducks and cupcakes and magical things and no worries exist.

The bell above the door to the diner chimes after about two minutes and you look up as Matt walks in. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart pounds hard.

There is no argument about whether or not Matt is physically attractive - he's gorgeous and could easily be a model if he wanted to be - but you can tell that Effort was put in that morning.

His scruff is trimmed down to a neat five o'clock shadow and his hair is a little fluffy like he's run his hand through it a few times. He's sporting a leather jacket, black tee shirt, slacks, and wing tips - he looks casual but cool. He's so incredibly handsome and for a moment you question if you're right about him being Minnie's father.

There is no way this man took you to bed. You think you're pass-ibly attractive, but he's on a whole other level of hot.

You are so busy ogling him it doesn't register right away you need to alert him to your whereabouts. Linda makes a bee line right for him, exchanging words you can't hear. She turns to look at you, one brow raising up in question. In response, you raise your hand in acknowledgement. She nods then leads Matt over to your booth. You finally notice he is holding a pink medium sized gift bag and you can't help but wonder what is inside.

He stops at the edge of the table, brushing his fingers over it to find the boundaries. You speak first, to let him know where you are.

"Hi."

It comes out far shyer than you mean and Linda gives a pointed 'are you serious' face.

It doesn't matter because he replies just as shyly, "Hi."

"Um, the seat to your right is empty, with a menu in the middle of the table," you direct. Minnie looks up at him and you watch her watch him fold his cane and slip into the seat. You can tell she is curious, but cautious.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" The elderly waitress asks and Matt asks for coffee. She then turns to go fetch that, leaving your new little family to finally meet each other.

You clear your throat and start the introductions, "Minnie, this is Matt. He is going to be our new friend. Can you say hi?"

She's quiet for a few seconds before mumbling out, "Hello."

Matt completely lights up at the greeting. His smile gets so big and boyishly happy you have to bite your lip so you don't break out into your own smile.

"Hi, Minnie. It's…it's so nice to meet you."

Your daughter presses the fist clutching the crayon to her mouth as she looks Matt over. Her little eyes dart all over his features before she turns her head to look up at you. Her brow scrunches up in a way you know means she wants to ask something, so you gently prompt her.

"Do you want to ask something, Mouse?"

She gives a barely there nod.

"Okay. You can take your time. Is that okay, Matt?" You say, gently redirecting the conversation back to him.

"Take your time," Matt tells her, his voice so soft and sweet. Encouraging.

She squirms in her seat and you quickly offer up your hand so she can hold onto it. She grabs your hand with her non-dominant one and squeezes tightly, needing the anchor to know everything will be okay - only then does she talk, her mouth hidden behind fist and crayon.

"You're Mommy's friend?"

Matt nods, smile still on his face, "I am. Or I hope to be. I'd like to be your friend, too."

Minnie rocks side to side in her booster seat, still looking over Matt like she's trying to parse out his motive. Despite not being able to see her contemplating, Matt waits patiently until the next question comes.

"Is it…your Birthday?" She asks after about ten seconds.

Matt shakes his head, his smile going from bright to a little softer, "No, it's not. This," he picks up the gift bag and places it in front of Minnie on the table, "is for you."

Her head automatically turns to look up at you with big questioning eyes, silently seeking permission. You gently squeeze her hand, "You can open it."

She pulls away from you and reaches out to pull the bag closer. It's too tall on the table for her to see into, so she very very gently, like she's scared it will break, tips it over onto its side. The packing tissue matches the bag and your little one gets distracted by that for a moment. She scrunches paper so it crinkles and folds before pulling it out and handing it off to you to hold. You assume that means she wants to keep it, as she knows wrapping paper gets thrown out. To your surprise, the tissue is thicker than what you are used to - it won't rip to shreds if you look at it too hard. That must be why she wants it - it's something to play with later.

A delighted shriek rips through the diner making you and Matt and everyone else in vicinity visibly wince.

"It's Scooby!" Minnie absolutely screams, revealing what is in the bag. It is indeed a Scooby Doo plushie - one of the good quality ones that looks extremely soft to the touch. He's seated and you can tell he has weighted paws to keep him upright and he looks more like a puppy Scooby than the one from the old show, but you know that doesn't matter.

Mouse loves him.

She practically shoves the plush in your face to show you. "Mommy, it's Scooby!"

Her excitement makes you laugh and rub at her back, "I see. Do you like him?" She nods before smashing the plush into her chest and hugging it tightly. You smile more, "What do you say to Matt?"

Matt has the biggest smile on his face and that, plus the gift, seems to soothe Minnie's anxiety. She looks right at him, matching his smile with her own beaming one, "Thank you, Mister Matt!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

You can hear the emotion in Matt's voice and it touches your heart. He looks just so happy. You get the feeling he would have been crushed if she hadn't liked the toy.

Minnie holds Scooby up and out to Matt and wiggles him back and forth, "Do you like Scooby? I love Scooby. He's my favorite - he solves mysteries! With Shaggy!"

"I haven't watched cartoons in a long time, but I remember Scooby Doo. I liked the girl with the glasses," Matt replies gently. You give a pleased hum at his response.

"Velma! That's Mommy's favorite!" Minnie exclaims, hugging her new toy again. She's so excited and wiggling with delight. You can't fight your smile as you watch her - and how could you? Matt's own smile is infectious.

"Oh, is she?" He asks and your little girl gives another eager nod.

"Uh-huh. 'Cause she's not scared of the monsters!"

That earns a little chuckle from both you and Matt, and he asks, "Are the monsters scary?"

"Yeah! But - but they are really just People," she screws up her face and emphasizes the word, pausing before starting again, "so they aren't Really scary."

"Ah, I see. Velma must be pretty brave to not be scared of the monsters."

"Mommy's braver," Mouse says proudly, puffing up her chest. She puts emphasis between each word, "Mommy's not scared of anything."

Your cheeks burn at her declaration.

"Is that so?" Matt asks, tilting his head a little towards you, his smile turning amused. You can tell he knows it's not true, but he won't break her illusion.

"I try to be," you say, rubbing Minnie's back again, trying to get her to calm down just a little bit. She's too happy over the new play thing to be nervous. Matt's done good - she's going to want to talk about cartoons - at least until food comes.

Linda has been eyeing your table and finally breaks away from the counter to come over to you, dropping off Matt's coffee then taking out her order pad.

"Can I get y'all started on some food?"

Minnie's attention is ripped away from Scooby and she looks up at the waitress. She squirms in her seat to sit up even taller and proclaims, "I want grilled cheese. With fruit. Please. Thank you."

She's ordered her own food from Linda before, though usually with not such confidence. You think this is part of her push to be a Big Girl. She's gotten to the age where she's started telling you she's not a baby anymore, even if you disagree, and you wonder if she's trying to impress Matt by showing that. You think it's absolutely adorable.

You can tell Linda does, too.

"One grilled cheese with fruit for the cupcake. How about Mom?"

You consider your options and decide quickly what you want, "Let's go with a grilled cheese with french fries."

Linda jots down the order and turns her attention to Matt, "and the sir?"

"I think I'll have to round it out and get a grilled cheese with fries."

Linda laughs to herself like she's very much enjoying the free reality show she is getting. "Three grilled cheese, two fry, and one fruit coming right up. Think about what y'all want for dessert."

You duck your head in embarrassment, knowing you are turning pink at the tease. You know she knows Matt is Minnie's father. She looks just like him and sitting there smiling together, there is no denying it. You don't need a DNA test.

One hundred percent, Matt Murdock fathered your precious little angel.

And Linda seems to think this is the Best Thing in the World. She is absolutely thrilled and you know she's going to gossip with the cooks.

Matt's got a blush to his cheeks as well, licking his lips shyly.

That makes you blush even more.

Minnie is totally unaware of the implications and declares she wants a sundae.

"Okay, then, I'll go get your order in so you can get that faster," Linda tells her before going to check on the next table.

"Cupcake?" Matt questions once she steps away, raising his brow over his glasses as he does. His smile is turning into a smirk and you think he's over being shy now. At least towards you.

"Minnie is sporting her Princess dress," you advise. You don't think his smile can get any bigger.

"A princess dress? Am I under dressed?"

You gently nudge your daughter, "Can you tell Matt about your dress?"

Minnie hugs Scooby to her chest before happily launching into a description of her dress, "It's pink! And yellow! And puffy! It has sparkles! And I can run in it."

"You can run in it?" He clarifies. The answer is a vigorous nod, so you jump in to help.

"The bottom is kind of like a tutu - lots of tulle. It only goes to her calves, so it won't drag on the ground. She looks like an upside down cupcake." You don't know if that helps at all, but he doesn't push for more information.

"It sounds like a really good Princess dress. Does that make you the Queen?" He teases. It gets a giggle from your daughter, which only makes you blush more. He directs his next inquiry to Minnie, once she's done laughing at you.

"Can you tell me what your Mommy is wearing?"

Your little one doesn't question why Matt needs things described to him and jumps right in, always so eager to please, "Mommy's wearing her fancy pants and a pretty top and she's got pretty hair. She looks pretty." Matt makes a pleased little noise over her description, encouraging her to continue on.

You resist the urge to hide your face in your hands. Your pants aren't fancy - she just rarely sees you outside leggings and sweatpants. You are going to have to take her to nicer places so she doesn't think jeans are formal wear. And pretty? Well, Mouse thinks everything is pretty.

"Do you think Mommy's pretty?" Minnie boldly asks instead of describing you more and you feel like you are going to die. You'd much rather prefer if she was being shy right now.

"I do," he says gently and of course it makes your blush even harder. This meeting should be about him meeting Minnie, but it is apparently about them ganging up on you to explode your heart out of your chest. "My eyes got hurt when I was a kid, so I can't see through them anymore. I see things through hearing and touching. I think you're Mommy has a very pretty voice. I like how she says different words. I can't see you're Mommy rubbing your back, but if I listen I can hear it. I can't see that your Mommy is wearing a pretty shirt, but now that you told me, I know. I use my hands to find out what shapes things are and where things are around me." He demonstrates by gently, and exaggeratedly, patting the table until he finds the menu. Mouse watches in fascination as he pushes it to be between them.

"I can't read like your Mommy can anymore with my eyes, so instead I use my fingers. Each set of bumps is a letter. It's called Braille and it's the English alphabet for people who use their fingers to read instead of their eyes."

You watch as your daughter listens to the explanation. She scrunches up her face as she processes the information, before looking down at her hands. She flexes her fingers a few times before looking back up at Matt.

"You got hurt?" She asks. Matt nods and gives an affirmative, pulling the menu back towards him. Part of you wonders if he's explained being Blind to a child before - his words and the concepts are simple enough for your little one to grasp. You're glad you left this to him.

"Something bad got in my eyes and made them not work anymore." You know this is something your daughter understands - she's gotten things in her eyes before that made it hard for her to see. You can see the dots connecting in Mouse's mind - she rubs a little fist into her left eye like it's irritated.

"Do you need a band-aid?" Minnie asks before dropping her arm with a little gasp, "or a kissy? Mommy gives me a kissy when I get hurt." Her concern is adorable and before Matt can answer her, she's jutting her new toy out towards him again, "Scooby can give you a kissy."

You can't see Matt's eyes behind his red glasses, but you can totally tell Minnie has already got him completely wrapped around her little fingers. You don't know if it's instinct to love her or he's just charmed by her sweetness.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I don't need one right now, it happened a long time ago. They've healed, they just don't work anymore. But if you could help tell me what things look like, I would very much appreciate that." His words are gentle and your daughter absolutely lights up over being asked to help. She loves to help.

"I can do that! I know what lots of things are!" She's practically bouncing in her seat, and deciding this is something you need to practice as well, tell Matt as such.

He tilts his head towards you, and it might be a trick of your mind, but for a moment his smile looks a bit softer before his attention is pulled back to Minnie. She's holding up Scooby again - you think she's not going to let go of the toy for the rest of the day - and once both you and Matt are focused on her, she starts describing him the best she can.

"He's brown and he's got a big head and he's a dog!" She turns the toy so it's back is facing Matt before telling him Scooby has black spots, "But not like Pongo. Only a little bit of spots. Pongo has.. Pongo has ten spots." She nods with authority over her assessment and you smile down at her, pride warming your heart.

"Thank you for telling me what he looks like," Matt says gently, making your little one just beam back at him. "You're very good at it."

You lean on your fist and watch her giggle and hide her face against Scooby. You don't want her to get too embarrassed and not want to talk, so you guide the conversation to something easy for her.

"Do you want to tell Matt about what we're going to do after lunch?" You ask, knowing it's a topic that excites her and she won't be shy, but it's also something he can relate to.

Across the table from you, Matt leans forward a little, clearly giving all his attention to Minnie, "Are you going to do something fun after lunch?"

The question gets her to look up from trying to hide away and she nods. She pushes her drawing, which has been ignored since Matt arrived, across the table towards him. You think she doesn't fully understand the concept that Matt cannot see yet, but she'll figure it out.

"She's sliding you her drawing," you say to try and help. You don't know if he needs more description than that - you can't remember how assistive you were during your night together. You're hoping it's another conversation you can have so you can adapt better to his life.

Matt feels around the table in front of him until he finds the notepad and he pulls it towards him. Minnie presses her face back into her plushie as she watches him run his fingers around the paper. You are all silent as he locates one of the circles Minnie has scribbled and begins to trace it. His lips begin to twitch at the corners and you wonder what he is thinking - what he is feeling. You hope this isn't a cruel thing - Minnie trying to show him her art.

You can tell he can feel the indentation of the crayon being pushed into the paper and you hope it is enough. You are definitely going to look into tactile art when you get home. You don't want to risk being this cruel and embarrassing again.

"We're gonna see the duckies," Minnie says after a beat and much to your surprise, she pushes herself up so she can reach across the table and places her finger on a circle Matt's not touching. "That's Quack."

Matt moves his finger to brush against hers, grounding where he is then begins to trace that circle, "This one is Quack?"

"Yeah! He's yellow. And this one," she pushes her finger to the third scribble, which is more square than circle, "is Moose. He's mean."

"He's mean?" Matt asks as he follows her finger with his own. The drawing is not very big, so he easily finds her finger again, bumping up against hers. All the yellow circles and shapes look the same to you but you know that isn't the case to your daughter and listening to her explain to Matt makes you want to pull out your camera and record the breathtaking smile he has right now.

You're sure there's plenty of time for that later. You're not going to break the moment getting out your phone.

"He bites," Minnie says wisely, like it's a warning. Matt takes it as such and nods in understanding as he follows her finger around the drawing.

"That is mean. You shouldn't bite people," Matt replies, taking in the shape of Moose. "What color is he?"

"He's yellow too," she answers, "but he's only got one feets. That's why he's mean." She carefully moves herself back so she can plop down in her seat. "Mommy says…Mommy says he can't runs away so he bites."

You turn your head a little so you can smile into your hand. Hearing her repeat something you have previously told her always makes your heart melt - she's learning and retaining and growing up. Soon, she won't be your little baby girl.

"That's right, sweetie," you praise. "He can't run away like the other ducks, so to tell people to stay away, he bites. How do you keep from being bitten?"

Minnie screws up her face in thought and you glance at Matt to gauge his reaction. He still has his hand on the drawings, though he's stopped tracing them since she sat down, and he looks so enraptured by your daughter - his daughter.

As if he senses you looking at him, he sends a soft smile your way. You return it, not caring that he can't see it. This happy little moment is perfect in your eyes.

"You can only pet the duckies at the zoo," Minnie says after a few moments of thinking. She looks up to you to make sure that is the correct answer and you nod, smiling down at her.

"Exactly, we can only pet the ducks at the zoo. Those ducks like to be pet. The ducks in the park don't want to be pet, so we don't touch them," you gently reinforce.

"That is a good way to keep everyone happy," Matt agrees, moving his hand away from the notepad so he can take a drink of his coffee.

Minnie quickly moves to mimic him and you watch as she carefully brings her glass of lemonade closer. Linda already provided a straw, so you don't need to worry about her trying to pick up the glass so you'll let her do this herself unless she asks for help. She has to sit up straight, but Mouse is able to wrap her lips around the straw and take a few sips.

Then of course, as soon as she's done she holds Scooby up to the straw and pushes his muzzle against it a little too hard. Your hand flies out to stabilize the glass before it can wobble too much. You don't chastise her, as she did nothing wrong, and simply hold the lemonade while she plays.

"Slurp slurp slurp," Minnie whispers to herself before 'walking' the toy back into her lap.

"Do you like watching the ducks?" Matt asks once she's done, bringing her focus back, and instead of nodding, your little one makes Scooby nod for her before she turns him over and starts messing with his weighted paws.

"They're funny. They have lots of fights. And put their butts up in the water." You try to not huff at her description, as she is not exactly wrong. Part of you wants to jump in and explain what she means, but you want her to bond with Matt. You don't want her to rely on you as a go-between for explaining things to one another. They need to learn each other's language.

"They put their butts up?" Matt asks bewildered and you don't know if it's genuine or played up for Minnie.

Either way, your little girl giggles, "When they go down in the water. They go butt up!" She looks up at Matt then turns her plush over so his tail is pointed towards the ceiling, "like this!"

You do decide to intervene at this point, tapping on Minnie's shoulder so she looks up to you, "Matt can't see with his eyes, remember? You need to tell him what it looks like or let him feel."

You can see the little wheels turning behind her eyes as she mentally puts the pieces together. She looks back to him then plonks Scooby face down, ass up on her notepad.

"Like this," she repeats before patting the sides of the plushie. She then leans back in her seat and smiles at Matt, proud of herself. You bite your lip, waiting to see what Matt does.

He doesn't push for or request more description, instead quickly finding the edge of the notepad, then feeling over Scooby. You're pretty sure he's putting on a show of patting over the toy by the way it's making Minnie giggle.

"Do you know why they put their butts up?" He asks and you wonder how much longer you will be talking of duck butts. It's cute, but you are also in public. Matt seems to not care at all so you push aside any embarrassment creeping at the edge of your psyche.

They both absolutely deserve this.

Your little one shakes her head with a 'not-uh' at Matt's question. You've told her why before, but you are sure she's forgotten - it is not useful information to her three year old brain.

"It's so they can get food underwater," he says as he flips Scooby over so he's sitting properly again. "They float on the water, but their food is underneath them." He bounces Scooby lightly, like he's floating in water. As she watches and listens, Mouse sticks her little hands into her mouth. "They have to dive down to get it, because they don't have hands to pick it up," he demonstrates by tipping the stuffed dog forward, so he's once again face down ass up. "So they end up sticking their butts out of the water. They look for food like this."

As he finishes his explanation, he pushes Scooby towards Minnie, pretending to make him snuffle and sniff for her, including making the sound himself. She hides her face behind her hands, giggling loudly, "There's no food here!"

"Oh no, there's not?" Matt asks in an overly dejected voice, tilting Scooby back up so he's sitting. He lets go of the plush and to keep up the fun atmosphere, you quickly pick it up instead.

You bounce the toy towards your daughter, teasing lightly, "is he going to have to gobble you up instead?"

"No!" She mock wails, lightly kicking her feet and still hiding her face, "I'm not food!"

"Are you sure?" Matt asks, leaning forward a little bit. "You look like food to me."

"Nom nom nom," you say in a deep voice, having Scooby's muzzle bump into her arm repeatedly. His pun doesn't dawn on you until Mouse starts squirming around and giggling.

"Noooo!"

"Well, looks like I'm here right in time," Linda declares as she very suddenly appears at the end of the table holding a tray with your orders. You flush in embarrassment, instinctively moving to sit up straight and behave and pulling Scooby into your lap. You feel like a misbehaving kid who got caught playing in class.

Matt has the most shit eating grin on his face, like he doesn't care who saw him playing with Minnie. He probably doesn't - this is his first time meeting her and it's going so well.

Your meals are placed in front of you, with Linda narrating to Matt where his plate is and where the food is on the plate when she sets it in front of him as she collects the menus.

"Thank you, Linda," Matt says from across the booth, managing to look and sound boyishly charming.

Again, almost instantly, Minnie copies him, giving her biggest and brightest, "Thank you, Miss Linda!"

"Thank you, Linda," you echo with your own little smile because you don't want to be rude and because you know she'll fucking love it.

"Well isn't that just the sweetest thing you've ever seen," she coos at you and you have to bite your lip so you don't laugh. You just know she is going to corner you at some point and demand answers. But that is for later, right now you are in your own bubble.

Beside you, Minnie helpfully pipes up, "Mister Matt can't see, you have to tell him what you see. Or let him feel."

You close your eyes tightly so you don't cringe or laugh. Your little Mouse is trying her best to do what she has been taught and you can't fault her at all. Linda gives a surprised yet amused laugh while Matt addresses your daughter. You can hear the smile in his voice.

"Thank you, Minnie, that's right. She's talking about us and I know that, so she doesn't need to explain. I appreciate your help in telling her, though." You look over to your daughter to gauge her reaction and she is still all smiles and Love.

"You're welcome!" She brightly replies then turns her attention to you and the toy in your lap, "Mommy, can I have Scooby?"

Linda gently taps the edge of the table with her knuckles as she steps away from the table, "Y'all enjoy your food and let me know if y'all need anything else." Her grin is enormous, and you'll have to give a nice tip for not completely embarrassing you.

You thank her again and once she's left, you pass Scooby back to Minnie, with a gentle reminder, "Put him to the side, so he won't get dirty." She nods in understanding, taking him and plopping him on the other side of her booster seat. Then she leans on the table and stretches her little arms until she can grab the napkin holder on the other end of the booth. Before you realize what she's doing, she yanks a handful of napkins free and falls back into her seat with an "oof".

"Are you alright?" Matt quickly asks, reaching his hand out over the table towards her like he can actually catch her from there if she falls.

His instinct to protect her makes your heart sing as you answer, "she's okay. Mouse, if you can't reach, you can ask for help." You still pat over her to make sure she's completely okay and it causes her to squirm in her seat.

"I can reach," is her slightly pouty reply. You don't want to get her cranky when she's been doing so well, so you let this pass and pull your hands away.

"Okay, sweetheart, just be careful, okay?"

Instead of answering, she ignores you and slowly she starts to unfold the napkins one by one. You have no idea what she is doing so you just watch. For a moment - then you remember Matt has no idea what is going on and you try your hand at narrating, "She grabbed napkins and now she is unfolding them."

"Why are you doing that, sweetheart?" He asks your daughter, brow knitting up and mouth turning into a frown.

She looks up at him as she pulls open another napkin and lays it flat on the table, saying like it's the most obvious thing, "Scooby doesn't have a lap."

"Scooby…doesn't have a lap?" Matt clarifies, clearly confused. You are as well until Minnie turns and starts draping the napkins over the plushie, covering him with them like a patchwork ghost.

Then you get it. "He doesn't have a lap to hold his napkin."

Realization dawns on Matt's face and he huffs in delight, "Of course." He makes a big show of taking the napkin around the silverware of his place set and putting it in his lap, even though your little one barely looks up at him. "We don't want to get dirty while eating."

"No crumbs," you agree, taking your napkin and putting it into your lap. You are constantly amazed by what your little girl retains - usually you have to put the napkin on her lap or remind her. Big Girl table manners is something you've only just started working on and pride swells in your chest at her actions. Even if she's just trying to impress Matt you are thrilled your lessons are working.

Once Scooby is hidden under napkins, Minnie puts one still folded napkin into her own lap. She pats it carefully so it's flat. As she does that, you check her plate to make sure everything is ready for her. Her kid's grilled cheese is already cut into four triangles, so you don't need to make anything smaller for her, and the fruit cup doesn't require any help. She's big enough to be able to stab the cut fruit with a fork and eat it on her own. You don't need to fuss with anything on her plate, so you start picking at your french fries. Matt has the same idea as you, going for his side instead of the main, but your daughter picks up the closest quarter of her sandwich and starts to nibble at it, like the Mouse she is.

A comfortable silence falls over your booth as you all start to eat.

You're still a little hesitant to trust everything is really going so well. You've conditioned yourself to believe that eventually everything will always fall apart - you just need to give it time. People leave and things go wrong, and you're left hurt and alone to pick up the pieces. You pray and hope and wish this curse the universe has put on you doesn't get passed down to your daughter. As long as you are breathing you won't leave her - and maybe if you believe hard enough Matt has come into Minnie's life and you are only there by extension, things won't come crashing down around her.

You'll fight tooth and nail for her well-being if it comes down to it, but it's something you don't want to have to do. She deserves a good, easy life.

Matt breaks you from your depressing thoughts, tilting his head and that handsome sweet smile towards Minnie, "How is your grilled cheese, Minnie?"

She looks up at him from behind her food, eyes going wide at being addressed, like she forgot Matt was even there. She sets down her half-eaten slice before answering, in a shy little mumble, "...it's yummy."

"Yeah?"

You duck your head with a fond smile. After the brief excitement of playing, of course she reverts back to being shy. You can sense she wants to start squirming and hiding at the direct attention, so you try to redirect the energy. It's amazing how bold you can be when trying to comfort your daughter. You can let yourself be uncomfortable until the cows come home, but you don't want her to experience that.

"Matt, can you tell Minnie a little about yourself?" You ask, maybe a little bit louder than you intended to.

He tilts his head towards you just slightly, his lips parting slightly and brow furrowing like he doesn't quite get why you asked that now. But he doesn't question you, instead leaning back into his seat to think over the question.

You want Minnie to know more about Matt to get more comfortable with him but you are also curious. Hearing what someone says about themselves is more telling than reading about them in online news articles.

"Let's see, I first met your Mommy a few years ago at a party. That's how we became friends. My other friends and I run a law firm where we help people when they get in trouble," He pokes at his fries while he talks and that seems to help Minnie relax more. She picks up her grilled cheese triangle and resumes eating while she listens. "I grew up here in Hell's Kitchen and want to help all my neighbors the best I can, because they are good people who don't have a lot of people to help them. I am able to help them, so my friends and I do the best we can to help them if they need it. I want to live in a happy place where people help each other."

You have no idea if he has experience talking to three year olds, but you think he'll have no problems with Minnie. Even if she doesn't understand exactly what he's saying, she watches him with interested eyes and you can tell she's taking in the information the best she can. Even if she's getting shy again, it's obvious Matt doesn't scare her.

"You help people?" your little one asks as Matt eats another fry. "Like a police man?"

He shakes his head, "No, after the police man comes. Like, if a police man thinks someone did something bad, but they didn't. They need someone to come tell the policeman they are innocent. That means they didn't do the bad thing."

Mouse pauses her chewing, sandwich still partly in her mouth. You haven't really discussed the topic of police with her - she's just three after all, but you know from the shows she watches the police are viewed in a good light. Personally, you've seen the bad side and know very well Matt helped clearing out the corrupt cops in Hell's Kitchen, but the concept the police might get something wrong seems to be a big one for her. Her little nose and brow scrunch up as things roll around in her head.

Matt seems to realize she's processing, as he continues to eat his fries and wait for the next question.

Finally, she puts her sandwich back down and looks up at Matt with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Are you Spidey-man?"

You try very hard to not laugh at the series of emotions that fly across Matt's face. First, he looks confused, then he makes this face like he smelled something bad, curling up his lips a little, before forcing it back into a smile with the help of a deep breath.

"No, sweetheart, I'm not Spider-Man, I'm a lawyer."

Minnie visibly deflates with a tiny 'oh', picking up a new sandwich triangle to start eating while looking like she's been told Christmas has been canceled. You suck on your bottom lip so you won't laugh. Across from you, Matt looks like he's angry at himself for not being Spider-Man and for disappointing Mouse over the fact - like how dare he not be the spunky superhero.

You feel the need to intervene before the mood shifts into something negative.

You pick up one of your french fries and wave it a little at Minnie to get her attention, "Matt can't be Spider-Man, Mouse. He's too tall." That gets her to look up at him again and he offers her this tiny hopeful smile. You feel like he's silently begging her to not be upset at him over something he can't control. "Remember? The balloon lady said he was as tall as her and Matt's taller than that."

You have no idea if she even registered how tall Matt is or if she can even mentally compare his height to the height of someone she's never seen in person, but you know pointing out how things are different in the past has worked.

She screws up her face at your words, carefully considering them, then finally nods and declares, "He's too tall to be Spidey-man." And just like that, everything is fine and she goes back to eating.

You grin to yourself and pop your fry into your mouth. Matt sits there, like he needs his own moment to process what happened. You are used to toddler wild mood swings and how to deal with them - you speak fluent Minnie logic. It will take him time to learn and you are sure there will be plenty of chances for it. He will be a master of it in no time if his fancy law degree is any indication.

Matt clears his throat after a long pause before picking up half of his sandwich, "Is he your favorite superhero?"

You wonder if he is really ready for this conversation. Minnie is part of the first generation to grow up with Super Heroes being a Real thing and not from war stories and comic books. You've tried to keep her away from all the news stories about all the horrible world events that keep happening, but capitalism sure loves to sell the idea and you can't fight capitalism. You're half convinced the Avengers are funded by their merchandise sales alone. Spider-Man isn't a part of all that, as far as you know, but New York loves the guy and you can get bootleg Spider merch on most street corners. Which you have, because Mouse thinks he's Cool.

"He saved a kitty," she says with lots of pride in her voice. "I saw on TV."

You remember the news segment from a few weeks prior: someone had filmed Spider-Man rescuing a cat that had gotten stuck in some construction equipment. It was heartwarming.

"He saved a kitty?" He asks, pretending to be in awe. Minnie gives a vigorous nod before shoving more of her grilled cheese into her mouth.

"She's nodding," you narrate, finally moving to eat your sandwich. "It was a daring rescue. I had to save the video on my phone so we can rewatch it. It was on top of a crane."

"Do you like Spidey-man?" Mouse asks as soon as she swallows her food. You know he can't see you, but you still look at Matt with raised eyebrows, wanting to know his answer as well.

"Well, based off what you said, he sounds like a good man. He wasn't around when I was growing up, so I'm partial to Captain America. I used to read his comics when I was little like you." It's a very diplomatic and lawyer-y answer and it makes you wonder if Matt even likes the topic. Hell's Kitchen did get the short end of the stick in the Battle of New York and the whole thing might be a touchy subject, especially considering his career. You know developers tried to take advantage of all the destruction and that must have caused a tonne of legal trouble.

Not that Minnie knows any of that, so you try to divert the conversation with the first thought that comes to mind, "what about ducks, Mr. Murdock, are you a fan of ducks?"

Your question throws him for a moment, but eventually he hums at the inquiry before nodding, "I do like ducks. Even ones who bite." He shoots you a little smile, something charming that makes your heart stutter. So instead of continuing to look at him, you turn to your daughter.

"Do you think we should invite Matt to visit the ducks?" You ask, wanting to make sure she is comfortable with the idea before properly asking Matt if he would like to come along. You have no idea if he has plans after this or not, but it is worth a shot.

Minnie looks from you to Matt and back again, pursing her lips in thought before lowering her voice into an unintentional stage whisper, "Mommy, he can't touch the duckies."

You try your best to not coo at her concern. You want to wrap her up in your arms and never let anything bad happen because how can your little angel be so thoughtful after only knowing him for half an hour?

"It's okay, sweetie," Matt softly says, and you turn your gaze to him. You swear you can feel the emotion coming off of him in waves - the desire to spend more time with his daughter, to learn more about her and bond. "You can help describe them to me, if you want. If you want me to come with you."

The last part hits home - you are very familiar with that way of speech. The want and ache to be included but knowing you'll most likely be denied the opportunity.

It feels like an infinity passes before she looks away from both of you and shyly admits, "I can help." She was so enthusiastic with her new toy and you do want to try to get that energy back. The park is one of the places she forgets to be a timid little mouse and you are hoping once she's not trapped in the booth, it will be easier for her to express herself.

"May I go with you to visit the ducks, Minnie?" He asks so proper and politely and it makes your stomach do funny things. You really do not understand how this wonderful man picked you of all people to sleep with.

Mouse squirms then pushes her wrist against her mouth, mumbling into it, "I wanna see the duckies. With Mister Matt. And Mommy."

You lean in and gently kiss the top of her head, rubbing at her back to silently tell her she did such a good job. "We'll all go see the duckies after we finish eating. All together."

Minnie peeks up at you, that shy sweet smile brightening to a look only reserved for Mommy, "We're gonna see the duckies. All together."

From the other side of the booth you hear Matt confirm in the softest voice, like you weren't meant to hear it.

"All together."

tags list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

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give-grian-rights · 3 months

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Hermitcraft - Basic History of Teams!

Alright. Buckle in.

Only a few days from now, and Hermitcraft 10 will begin! If you're new, I hope this helps!

Hermitcraft has existed for over ELEVEN YEARS now! While very few have been here for every single season, with the exception of our lovely Tumblr Resident, and official Tumblr Sexy Man Joe Hills, and our derp Xisumavoid.

You are under NO obligation to watch every season. There are probably few, if any, active users in this community who have. It's just not possible to watch it all. You don't need to watch the previous seasons to enjoy our community space! While there are a lot of back-references, for MOST people, it doesn't extend to lore and actions any older than season 6.

Most of the Hermits are associated with specific other members, despite ALL OF THEM taking turns collaborating, interacting, and sometimes building whole new dynamics and factions in the process. Some of the team-ups that you'll see referred to in fandom-spaces and the occasional one-off mention from our creators, include:

(Season 5) NHO, New Hermit Order - Docm77, Ethoslab, Bdoubleo100, and VintageBeef. Living in a jungle while having "fights" with others. Attempts to tax those who enter their jungle, had traps around it, and criticized the then-popular AFK Fishing Farms. Bdoubleo100, or Bdubs, especially enjoyed stealing from these. (Season 5-6) Convex, or ConCorp - GoodTimesWithScar and Cubfan135. One group I am the least familiar with unfortunately. They built a brand around the Vexes, with their business having pretty extreme low-morals that includes pollution and war profiteering.

(Season 6) ArciTects - Very close to be naming "BuildStone", it was proposed by and founded by Grian to Mumbo, later giving an invite to Iskall85. The purpose of this alliance was for builders to help redstoners, and redstoner to help builders. It accumulated in the ATTEMPT of founding the "greatest shop in the history of Hermitcraft", Sahara. It was, hilariously, a very large failure. Grian miraculously managed to entirely ruin the system with a single baked potato. No, I don't know how.

(Season 6) G-Team & Team STAR (Superior Tactical Alliance for Retaliation) - The Hermitcraft Civil War, consisted of a long list of minor conflicts in which various members of Hermitcraft blamed other people for pranks they committed, eventually spiraling into the confusion that was The Civil War! G-Team: Grian, TangoTek, Iskall85, Joe Hills, ZombieCleo, StressMonster101, and iJevin. Team STAR: Docm77, WelsKnight, FalseSymmetry, ImpulseSV Xisuma, RenDog

Mumbo Jumbo acted as a mole in Team Star, for the G-Team. He created this commercial for Team STAR. Team STAR made a very iconic diss track, which was soon remixed. It is a...Very iconic piece of Hermitcraft fandom. The result was Joe Hill's Response, in his short video also remixed by the same creator. Albeit missing the additions of the totally real voices of the other G-Team members

(Season 6) Area 77 & The Hippies - (I didn't finish Hippies POV and i didn't watch anything of Doc or Scar's POV of this unfortunately) Area 77 was founded by (unsurprisingly) Docm77, and GoodTimesWithScar, where they were doing experiments and studying abonomalies. SOmehow, this lead into Grian, once again, turning against them and forming The Hippies with the help of Ren, with Impulse soon joining. The conflict primarily consisted of them griefing Area 77 with flowers.

(Season 7) Boomers Demolition - Early game business formed by TangoTek, Bdoubleo100, and ImpulseSV which consistedo f almost exclusively non-duped TnT demolition, and was very fun!!

(Season 7) The Mycellium Resistance/HEP (Hermitcraft Environmental Protection) Hermicraft 7 saw Grian introduce the Hermitcraft Mayoral Election, created with the idea of putting Mumbo in as a puppet-government. If I had a nickel for every time Grian tried to start a puppet government (at this point) I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice. Grian and Mumbo lost. In it's place was GoodTimesWIthScar. As Mayor, they had further control over the shopping district. Scar's promise was to replace the shopping district's Mycellium with grass. Despite very happily admitting that grass looked better, Grian, in a moment of nostalgia, decided to replace some Mycellium. Scar proceeded by putting caution tape around the area. This spiraled into The Turf War

Mycellium Resistance: Grian (Mother Spore), ImpulseSV, RenDog, XBCrafted, iJevin, Ethoslab, StressMonster101, Docm77, and Mumbo Jumbo HEP/Mayor Scar: Scar, Bdoubleo100, Keralis, Xisumavoid, TangoTek, Cubfan135, FalseSymmetry, Mumbo Jumbo, who joined due to them having the better vault. Etho had intended on being a double-agent, selling information to Scar. His information, however, was useless on purpose and decided to pledge full loyalty to The Resistance.

(Season 8) Boatem Hole - Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, GoodTimesWithScar, ImpulseSV and PearlescentMoon more or less stumbled and tripped into forming a group after innocently stacking boats and crafting tables and crystals on a pole, dubbed Boatem Poll. They then proceeded to create a hole down to bedrock, and eventually into the void, called the Boatem Hole. It was a large plains biome which was turned into varying mountain terraforming and the like from all of them and was connected in some small ways.

(Season 8) The Big Eyed Crew - Bdoubleo100, Keralis, and TangoTek. Tango did not, in fact, have big eyes and instead wore sunglasses to compensate. They had a town and shopping area and was occasionally dragged into pranks by the Boatem Crew.

(Season 8) Octogon/Goatem - Docm77 and RenDog! Main rivals with Boatem (thus the Goatem - pole of goats) had a mega business, game-breaking creations, and jaw-dropping spidery teal-and-deepslate creations. Weird Science!

(Season 9) Soup Crew - ImpulseSV, PearlescentMoon, GeminiTay. Made the CRAZIEST combo-base where all their different themes blended into a cohesive build

(Season 9) Buttercups - Grian, MumboJumbo, and GoodTimesWithScar. What's up, Buttercup? They formed after an incient where Scar and Grian blew up a massive, complex tunnel bomber in Doc's base. They could not understand how to repair it, and left a few diamond blocks before conflict started. They dragged Mumbo in, and had a robot fight with...

(Season 9) The Perimeter - Docm77 and RenDog. Doc's base, known as The Perimeter, teamed with Ren to attack the Buttercups using walking redstone creations to do a robot fight. Due to an issue with one of the server's plugins, they all re-logged, breaking one of the bots and ending with Buttercup's bot to do more harm to itself than the Perimeter's, but ultimately the destruction did prevent Doc and Ren from getting any further. Ren and Doc then launched flying TnT dupers, which looked like butterflies, towards all of the Buttercups' bases and camp. They stopped them both, with one butterfly destroying The Perimeter's own bot even further.

I am so sure that I'm missing some, but I am losing my mind with all this trying to remember them all!! I hope this could give people an idea of who they might enjoy watching!

#hermitcraft #hc #hermitblr #hermitcraft 5 #hermitcraft 6 #hermitcraft 7 #hermitcraft 8 #hermitcraft 9 #hermitcraft 10 #mika-posts

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

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I'm in the mood for Vindictive!Reader, so here goes. Reader and Dulic are married for five years and he's been cheating on Reader with Jean for the past two and a half years. Now, Reader is no submissive housewife; she's been holding her silence and gathering evidence of the affair. She wants Jean to pay dearly for her part in the affair; she intends to not only utterly destroy Jean's spotless reputation in Mondstadt, she intends to strip the Gunnhildr Clan of their nobility status.

Sweet, Sweet Revenge

God yes, I love this idea. So initially, I wanted to wait with this and finish the Gorou ask first, since I have been working on that for the past few days, but I just couldn't hold back. And thanks to the fact that I'm currently stuck home sick with Covid, I have all the time in the world to write. So don't worry, the next one should come out the next couple of days.

Content: talk of cheating; I tried making it a genderneutral reader; petty reader who wants their revenge; ooc characters probably; not proofread yet!

So, as always, I hope you enjoy the ride!

Words: 1,2k

Archons, it made you sick.

Looking at the man across you, who you used to view with the most loving eyes, only made you want to throw up now.

Honestly, you were surprised by the fact that he hadn't caught on to your little game by now. Guess he was just so sure of himself that he didn't consider the possibility of you finding out.

See, the issue is that Diluc, your oh so loving and caring husband of five years, has cheated on you. But not only did he do it once, he continued to do it. Even now.

He has been continuously cheating on you since your second year of your marriage with him.

And even though you did only find out through sheer "luck", you weren't as stupid as he obviously thought that you were. You knew that something had been going on with him, that he wasn't being quite honest. You just didn't think he would do something so lowly.

When you found out about his affair, you felt sick to your stomach. You actually had to hold yourself back so you wouldn't throw up on the floor. Even worse when you found out that he had been cheating on you with none other than Jean, the acting Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius. The one he always told you he had no feelings for anymore.

Well, wasn't that a flat out lie.

Once you had your confirmation, you were ready to pack your stuff together and leave their lives for good. Wouldn't want to intrude upon a happy relationship, right?

But as you were packing a bag with your clothings, a thought crossed your mind..

They had no problem whatsoever casually ruining your life, so... why not return that favor?

So, your petty little mind started plotting. And boy, were you proud of that plan.

The only tough part was that you had to stay with Diluc and pretend to be the clueless, dumb, idiotic little thing that stays at his mansion and gets fed there. You couldn't stand being in the same room as him, so nights spend in the same bed as him were positively torturous.

But in the end, it was worth it. You gathered up so much evidence on the two of them, it was sure to forever ruin their reputation and status within Mondstadt.

For two and a half years, you collected everything you could find, some revelations coming to you in the process of doing so.

Such as, that Jean was perfectly in the picture that you were married to Diluc, but neither of them cared about that. In fact, it was Diluc who always reassured her, that you had no idea about what they were doing. Archons, the things they would say about you sometimes would have brought you to tears if you cared about what they had to say. But they didn't matter. Not anymore.

What also shocked you was the fact that Diluc was the one who saught her out, initiated the contact all those years ago. It wasn't like he was being seduced or some shit like that. He purposefully went out of his way to do this to you and Jean just went along with it because she obviously still had feelings for Diluc.

Well, tonight... you would finally get your sweet revenge.

Diluc had left the mansion in the morning, informing you that he wouldn't be able to make it back at all today, due to "responsibilities". A lie, obviously, now that you knew about his side fling, if you could even call it that anymore.

So, you spend the entire morning gathering all of the evidence that you collected, together, while also packing up all of your stuff to get it out of the house. Thankfully, you never fully shared all of your finances with Diluc, so you still had quite a bit of Mora. You purchased a living space in Liyue from that money and you planned to live there, starting tomorrow, after you destroyed both of their lives.

You found a traveling merchant a while ago who, after you told him about your situation without too many details, was willing to help you out with the moving process. As you were moving all of your bags outside, of course the maids and other staff noticed, so Adelinde came to ask you what was going on.

Since you already planned to post all of the evidence through the entirety of Mondstadt tonight, you could tell her in advance, explaining the situation to her.

Adelinde looked positively shocked by that, but after seeing all of that proof, she had no other choice but to believe you. To your surprise, she offered her help to you, which led to you getting all of your stuff out way quicker than you would have thought.

Since you had a little bit of free time left now, you decided to spend it one last time with Adelinde and the other staff. She made a really nice dinner and you talked with them for quite some time, until it was already night and it was time for you to leave this place.

Once and for all.

You made your way towards the city one final time. By the time you arrived, it was the middle of the night and all of Mondstadt was fast asleep. So, you went around the city, posting your collection on the bulletin board, at Angel's Share, with Good Hunter, just everywhere. You made sure that by tomorrow morning, everyone would wake up to the news and not a single soul would be left out. You even went through the efforts to get a copy of it delievered to Albedo's research camp in Dragonspine.

After you were finished, you stood by the city gates, taking in the view of your hometown one last time, before you turned your back to it and left towards your new life in Liyue.

You felt kind of dissapointed that you wouldn't be there to witness their lifes crumble beneath them, but it was for the better. You could finally make peace with it and with yourself. You definitely wouldn't let them stop you from that.

Well.. you may not have been there to see the effects it had, but you were definitely caught up with it thanks to Adelinde who stayed in contact with you.

Apparently, Jean was fired from her position as acting Grandmaster after all of this came to light. But not just that. She was let go by the Knights of Favonius entirely. It was safe to say that the enitre city now hated her guts, going for a married man like that. Even her parents, who she was forced to live with now, couldn't stand looking at her.

As for Diluc, he tried to uphold his reputation, saying that he was being seduced by her, but that got shot down quickly again. After a while, he just up and dissapeared. No one has seen or heard anything from him for a few weeks now.

But that didn't bother you anymore. You had your new life, and you were only just starting to live it, so why not enjoy it for a little while, right?

I finished this rather quick, so I'm probably gonna revisit this at some point to fix any mistakes I may have made but I really wanted to get it out there because I was totally in the mood for something like that as well!

Thanks again for requesting! Love you <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr #genshin scenarios #genshin impact angst #diluc angst

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lotusmi · 1 year

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SUCCESS STORY!!🤎🧸

tw//mental problems, abusive family, bullying, suicide attempt, manifest/void obsession

first of all i want to thank lotus because it helped me even when i was thinking about suicide❤️‍🩹

it's been years since I learned loa and I was having problems with the manifest. althought I have known loa for 2-3 years, i constantly reacted to 3D and for such reasons I could not manifest anything for 2-3 years. and when i first learned loa i was obsessed with void. I was hurting myself to enter void. like if you don't enter void today I will kill you. i was crazy because of void. at the same time, I was staying in the family environment that dragged me to death, and I was bullied at school . i was hated by people even though i did nothing. i tried to commit suicide many times, my family wouldn't let me go to the therapist. also, no one said anything to the bullying I saw. thats why I bullied myself for years in the same way. if I told anyone I was being bullied and asked for help, they would say it was probably my problem to my face💀💀 and towards the end of 2022, i seriously couldn't stand it anymore. i was constantly reading blogs [i think there is no blog i haven't read, lmao] and the last time i couldn't stand it, i tried suicide again, but i failed. later i wrote to lotus and she gave me a lot of advice (baby ily😩❤️) and i cried more than i have ever cried that night. the problem is that while people were already ruining me, the real problem was that i was ruining myself too. after that day, in the first week, i had so many problems in my manifest journey. but until 2023, i said to myself, "i don't want to live like this anymore. i deserve the life I want.” i made a promise. and every time I felt like quitting, i remembered my promise to myself. and now i have revised my whole life, i live in dubai🤭. if you're going to ask how i did this, i started to listen to my inner voice, i almost stopped entering tumblr. i stopped affirming and wrote down the things that i was gonna revise one by one, and added them to the notes app on my phone. i made a note at the bottom that I already have these in my life. when “what if I can't manifest the life I want?” if such thoughts came to my mind, i told myself that the creation was already finished. in this process, i focused only on myself and was developing my self concept. before I went to bed at night, i was constantly imagining the life I wanted and I was staying in that state and saying I already had the life I wanted, I didn't affirm anything extra. and even those who made life difficult for me started to apologize to me. (i manifested their karma life lol) anyway I don't want to talk more about those bitches but I want to mention this. please take a break. relax. stay away from things like void, loa for a few days. I noticed that some of you are obsessed with void on this blog. but i must say void is just a method. if i manifested the life i wanted when i was only 12-13 years old, you can do it too. take a break and do what feels good to you. love yourself. loa blogs can help you up to a point. they can't spare all their days for you. start taking responsibility. find manifest methods that work well for you. love yourself. meditate. i’ve talked a lot but I would like to add that, if someone tells you that you are the cause of the circumstances you are experiencing right now, that you created the conditions in which you live, please tell them to shut their fucking mouths. no such thing. i was blaming myself again, thinking what a disgusting monster i am just because this “you create ur reality” thingy. but the truth is that creation is already over. good luck!

MY FAV SUCCESS STORY TO EXIST!!!! 😭

I literally cried when this girl texted me saying she is living her dream life, I was so pround, I am pround 💗

Backstory, she first texted me 12/15/2022

She told me everything about her circumstances, they were really bad ones, and she was 12 at time and this made my heart so broken (she revised her age) since her parents were really toxic and disgusting ( I am not going to say much about her old story).

So I told her all about the toxic home I lived and how I manifested it away too (my success, my failures).

So, time passed and 01/feb I got this text!

I literally cried because I was so happy for herrrr 💗😭😭

"How she did it?"

She focused in her inner Self being the only reality and ignored all circumstances!

"and i would love to you to add those youtubers and blogs" insta: - kriston jackson youtube: - lana blakely tumblr: - @becomingthatgirl111 — other sources abt loa: - joe dispenza, edward art"

I literally cried so much and I am so happy for you my angel, look how you did it! You were 12 and revised your whole life! 💗💗💗

And that are people out there who don't believe that it is possible to manifest things. Look at this girl 💓

You did it amazing love, I am so pround of you. You are deserving of all the best things in the world. I wish you all the fun in life. Thank you sm for sending me this, I feel so appreciated that I had helped you, but who did all of this was YOU! 💗💗💗

✉️You all, everything is possible!

#neville goddard #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa advice #loa blog #manifesting #success story #living in the end #loatumblr #Lotuses success

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shanastoryteller · 9 months

Note

Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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alwaysshallow · 6 months

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What would fake dating Soap do if Reader suddenly really meets someone she potentially likes? He’s probably in too deep to just back off (as if) but he can’t ruin it too quickly by acting all jealous and crazy. Would he turn to manipulation? Love bombing to hurry along the process of reader falling for him? Maybe even talking to her friends about „that nasty guy from work who keeps hitting on his girl“ all heartbroken?

Fake dating Soap is just my roman empire at this point. I totally get you

anon..... I LOVE this ask

johnny, most definitely, isn't pleased that you meet someone that you might like, even if you do this whole "fake dating" thing. he's jealous, but he's not stupid to act like a crazy man that's possesive (he is), so he easily manipulates environment around you.

your friends? hell, they're gonna hear all about the guy that is constantly nagging you!! it's so rude from his side, how could he?:( and you're too nice to say anything about it!!! it's this point of manipulation where your friends believe johnny without even doubting him for a second.

he gives you a lot of gifts. flowers, without an occasion - "it reminds me of you", he'd say, and you, of course, just swoon in those compliments.

he acts like an animal with marking your apartment; he leaves his toothbrush in your cup (you don't even live with him!), a few of his hoodies and t-shirts, either for you to wear, or for him to have spare clothes if he's gonna visit:)

he marks you too, even if you're not together. he leaves hickeys on your neck, accidentally splashing you with his perfume, or your clothes. he gives you a necklace with his initial, tricking you to wear it because it only makes fake dating more real!!:(

he would rather die, than give you so easily to another man.

#exilesanswers #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #cod x reader #john mactavish #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish #soap imagine #soap mactavish #fake dating #cod imagine

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staarlight-snow · 8 months

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Murky Waters - Island of the Slaughtered

TW: Gore, Horror

[Inspired by "last thoughts - Noah Mudaliar" by muridaecorps (on Ao3) and Island of the Slaughtered by @eavee-ry ]

Silence.

It was so silent it was as if nothing had happened. The wind blew gently against the leaves as the moonlight shone down into the pond. The crimson-tinted water glistened under the rays of the moon.

It was unfair. He would've enjoyed this view. The solitude and silence of the forest, the way the moonlight hit the water just right.

It was unfair. He could be sitting atop a rock, reading his favourite novel – far away from the nuisances and noise that was the camp and his peers but no. Instead of sitting in front of the serene view, enjoying his solitude and short-lived peace – his body floated lifelessly in the pond.

The only thing that ruined this ethereal and dream-like scenery was that of the body of a teenage boy that was cheated from his life. It was unfair. There was no denying, he was far different from other teenagers, yes but just like most of them – he had dreams, he had hopes and aspirations. Everyone did, of course.

So it was unfair. Everything was unfair. This isn't supposed to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt. If he could – he'd find Chris and make him pay for abandoning them on this goddamned island.

The silence in his surroundings was disturbed by the sudden rustling of bushes. The frantic sounds of someone's footsteps ran in closer to the pond. Then, there was a voice.

"Noah?" A voice called out, a tone of worry and fear. It continued to call his name, over and over again, getting louder by the second. What kind of fool would deliberately risk his life to find a snarky, sarcastic know-it-all?

"Noah! Please! Where are you?" It was Cody. His voice cracked as he shouted his friend's name more and louder. The lake came into his view and he stopped in his tracks. He gripped the blood-stained book in his hands harder as his eyes widened at the sight that unfolded before him. "A-ah.." His heart dropped and his breathing stopped for what seemed like a full minute.

A loud gut-wrenching scream erupted from the brunette. He fell to his knees – his eyes welled up with tears as he started to shakenly hyperventilate.

"Cody! Oh my god you're okay!" A person followed from behind, embracing the shorter in a hug. "I thought the killer got to you! Are you insane!? I know you're worried 'bout Noah but-" They were cut-off from their words when they caught a glimpse of the murky crimson stained water in front of them.

The person with him, Gwen, comforted the boy. They weren't close the first few days and she honestly found him like an annoying little brother but as the nights passed and the more murders took place – she found herself as an older sister figure to the other. She couldn't possibly imagine what Cody is going through but she knew how heart-broken he probably is right now.

"Cody… I'm sorry.." Gwen spoke, "But we can't stay here. It's not safe." She stood up, gesturing for the other to do so as well. Cody followed. His mind was clouded, it was empty but somehow it was full of thoughts. It was too much to process, it was too overwhelming.

It was unfair.

Part 2

Sequel

i needed to practice more on my writing and im very obsessed w this au rn!! i dont rlly write fanfics esp on this acc but we'll let this one slide 🕴️

#total drama #total drama au #tdi noah #td noah #td noco #td gwen #td cody #island of the slaughtered #tdi #total drama island #total drama fanfiction #tdi fanfic #tw horror #tw death

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qveerthe0ry · 2 months

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If You're Crazy Too

Summary: It isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. Word Count: 8,600 Pairing: Santi x m!amab!reader x Frankie Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, mutual masturbation, watching porn together, threesome, handjobs, ass eating, oral sex (m receiving), anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, polyamory Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you both so much, you're angels for helping me through this <3 A/N: Special thanks to the author of this post for making an excellent resource for writing Spanish in fics, it came SO in handy. Also thanks to @triplefrontier-anniversary for inspiring me to finish getting this brainworm all written down before the deadline!

Santi is an incredible fuck. Also, he’s a fairly sweet guy.

You met him at your favorite club. He’d been dancing with men and women all night long, graceful and respectful, and you itched to get your turn with him.

When you finally got the chance, his body was solid and sweaty and sure against your own.

You could barely hear him over the music when he told you, lips brushing over your ear, that he was hoping you’d seek him out.

He kissed you, after a few songs, and you met it with an eagerness you didn’t even know you had in you. It wasn’t long before he asked you to come back to his place, and he made you fall apart underneath him.

The morning after wouldn’t have been awkward, either, if his roommate hadn’t been cooking breakfast for the both of you.

Santi introduced him as “Frankie, or Catfish, or Fish.” He was gorgeous, too, in a softer way than Santi. His brown eyes were wider and less menacing than Santi’s, and his curls peeked out under a well-worn trucker’s cap.

He said it was nice to meet you, and asked how you liked your eggs, and if you were way too loud the night before with Santi, he didn’t mention it. You did, however, catch him sneaking glances at Santi while the three of you ate, and wondered what they meant.

It didn’t matter much at the time when you thought you’d never see Santi again. But he walked you to your Uber after breakfast, and asked if you maybe wanted to do this again, no pressure, no strings attached. And you did. So you exchanged numbers and he kissed you on the cheek before sending you off.

You’ve met up with him a few times now. Each time Frankie makes himself scarce. You either hear the TV in his room, or you pass him on your way in, telling you he’s got errands to run. What errands he’s running at 10pm, you’re not sure you want to know, but you don’t think much of it.

Until now. You knock on the front door of their apartment and hear voices, too muffled to make anything out clearly.

Santi answers before too long with a smile, and you follow, intent to trail him to his bedroom like you usually do.

This time, though, Frankie’s sat on the couch in the living room, a beer in his hand, and he looks like someone just kicked his puppy.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something? We can rain check.”

Frankie looks to you, and then to Santi, and you feel like you have your answer before either of them speak.

“No, no, you haven’t interrupted anything,” Santi starts, “it’s just our favorite OnlyFans guy released a new video a few days ago and we haven’t had the chance to watch it yet. Fish is a little eager.”

“Fuck you, I’m not. Just thought we were watching it today is all. No big deal.”

It’s a lot of information to process, that these two not only share a favorite OnlyFans creator, but watch his videos together. And— not to assume, but you’re sure they probably do other things together too.

“Oh… I mean, I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“It’s fine—“

Frankie’s reassurance is cut off by Santi though, something that seems like a common occurrence by the way he settles back into his seat and closes his lips when Santi begins to speak.

“You wanna watch with us? First orgasm of the night, but I promise I’ll make it up to you after.”

And fuck it, you think. It isn’t quite what you imagined when you left your place, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible way to spend your Friday night.

“I’m down,” you shrug, and Santi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and winks at you.

He turns the lights off while Frankie casts the video to the TV. You settle in the armchair, as Fish looks a little uncomfortable, but he assures you he isn’t when you check in with him.

Santi takes the opposite side of the couch as Frankie, and then he’s ordering him to start the video.

The bar on the bottom reads 45:06. Longer than you expected. The video is well-edited with soft royalty-free music over a logo that fades when the man appears on screen.

You chance a small glance at the couch. You aren’t really sure what the etiquette is here, but neither of them seem to be making any moves yet, hands resting on their own thighs. You mirror them, subtly shifting to do so, and avert your eyes to the television once more.

The man on the screen is a wicked dirty talker. He spends a good five minutes telling the viewer what he wants done to him. He’s also quite submissive by the sounds of it, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Santi loves the way you submit to him, tells you so every time you hook up.

You find yourself wondering what Frankie likes in the bedroom, if he’s also just as dominant as Santi, if he’s more sweet or hardened, if he would be vocal like Santi or more reserved like he seems to be in his daily life.

Before you realize it, the man on the screen is stripping down into a skimpy, lacy set of underthings. His cock is on the smaller side but rock hard and leaking, tenting his little lacy briefs in a deliciously obscene display. Your cock stirs at the sight, and you peek over at the couch again.

Frankie’s palming the bulge in his sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen so diligently that you think it’s calculated. Santi, in contrast, has his hand under the waistband of his gym shorts already.

But you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker from the screen, and not to you, but to Frankie, flitting up and down quickly from his face to his lap.

You try not to sigh too loudly as you cradle your own package, half-hard in your own skimpy briefs you wore just for Santi. You watch as the man on the screen turns his back to the camera and bends over, allows the camera to get a full view of the outline of the plug nestled between his juicy ass cheeks.

The air in the room feels humid, almost too hot as the video goes on. You definitely get why this guy is their favorite OnlyFans creator. He’s gorgeous, first of all, all lithe muscle, soft in the perfect places. And he’s an incredible performer. He talks to the camera like he’s talking to you, desperate and breathy. It doesn’t take long for your prick to fully fill out in your briefs.

The camera angle changes on screen. It cuts to him on all fours on the bed, his hole gaping from removing the plug, his pretty pink cock leaking between his legs. A rough grunt from your left has your eyes wandering to the couch again.

Santi’s cock is out, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Thick and glistening in his big hand, his balls sat atop the waistband of his shorts. Your own throbs under the pressure of your palm, and you let yourself sneak a look at Frankie, too.

He’s finally got his hand down his pants, and you almost feel bad for wondering what his cock is like, too. If it would mirror the differences between he and Santi’s bodies, longer but thinner. You wonder if he’s uncut like Santi is, and you wonder what he’d taste like.

A loud whimper makes you peel your eyes away from the couch and look back at the TV. The guy is three fingers deep in himself, fucking them in along with the messy amount of lube he’s used. It’s fucking hot, and you throw all caution to the wind to unzip your jeans and pull your cock free from its confines.

“He’s fucking hot right?”

You turn your head to Santi at the sound of his voice. Your heart picks up at the sight of him, one hand stroking his balls while the other works slowly up and down his shaft.

You squeeze your own in response.

“Yeah, not exactly my type but he’s still doing it for me.”

Santi chuckles, nods his head back to the screen. But before you turn back yourself, you see Fish glance at Santi out of the corner of his eye. He starts to shuffle his waistband down his hips, but you turn away before you see anything you think you shouldn’t.

The guy on the screen is limber. On his back now, knees pressed to his chest, he’s whining and whimpering while he fucks himself with a big, realistic dildo.

It’s massive, much bigger than any real cock you’ve taken, but you guess that’s some of the appeal. You try to quietly spit in your hand, then spread it up and down as you lazily stroke yourself off to the video.

It’s loud. The obscene squelching and consequential moans fill the living room, but not enough that you can’t hear the strokes from both Santi and Frankie on the couch next to you. Occasionally you hear a muffled curse, or a stilted gasp, and you can’t be sure which man they’re coming from but you want to hear more.

You glance over again. Your eyes land on Santi first, of course, who’s almost shamelessly staring at Frankie’s crotch, the way he lifts his hips to fuck into his fist every few thrusts.

Frankie’s cock is longer, and thinner, and you’re delighted to find that he isn’t circumcised either, the fat head of his cock disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin.

He turns his head, and you stop stroking your cock all together, afraid of Fish’s reaction to you sneaking a peek. Only, when you meet his eyes to shoot him an apologetic look, he’s not looking at you.

He’s looking at Santi, staring, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering where he fists his prick, then back up again. You’re stunned still at how intimate it feels, the heat in Frankie’s gaze as he licks his plush lips.

You turn your eyes back to the video with a pounding heartbeat. Your erection begins to wane as you stare through the TV. You can’t get it out of your mind, the way they look at each other. You’re surprised they haven’t caught each other looking yet. The heat from both of their gazes looked tangible, hungry and yearning. It’s as plain as day to you, on the outside looking in.

“Ah fuck—”

The curse is not from Santi. Your eyes trail over just in time to see Frankie pull his shirt up and spill across his stomach. His eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall behind the couch, and you see Santi’s fist speed up, a blur of tan skin.

You watch him watch Frankie, unabashed now as Fish’s eyes are shut in bliss, and Santi comes too with a deep hum, closing his own eyes just in time for Frankie to open his and look at the both of you.

He quickly averts his gaze when he sees you staring, reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of him. In a move that looks so familiar, he pulls out two for himself, and then two for Santi, handing them over with practiced ease.

Santi pants out a gruff gracias and uses one to clean up with, then holds out his hand to offer you the other.

“Oh— no thanks, I’m good. Didn’t quite get there.”

Santi hums, uses the extra tissue to finish wiping himself up.

“What’s wrong, hermoso? Have I ruined you for all other men?”

His grin is cocky when he asks, tucking himself back into his shorts.

“Yeah Santi, that’s it.”

You roll your eyes and look over to Fish as if to say this fuckin’ guy, but he’s busy boring a hole into the paused TV screen like his life depends on it.

Your dick is hanging fairly limp out of your underwear, so you stow it away, pull your jeans back up.

“Don’t bother,” Santi tells you, nodding his head toward his bedroom, “let me make it up to you now.”

So with your fly undone, you stand on weary legs and follow Santi to his room. When you make it, you turn back to Frankie, to say thank you or sorry, you can’t be sure, because he’s already closing his own bedroom door behind him.

Santi makes good on his promise, though. He eats your ass for what feels like hours, until you’re shaking and begging for him to fuck you. And then he does, somehow riding the perfect line between rough and tender, holding your back against his front with one big hand on your chest as you both kneel on the bed. His other hand works your cock so perfectly that you come unglued in a grand way, like you always do with him.

He cleans you up after, gentle. He’s a huge cuddler, so it doesn’t phase you anymore when he spoons you close and presses his mouth along the little love bites he’s left.

“You really aren’t into subs, are you? Not even a little bit?”

You know he’s referencing your lack of interest in the video. You could agree with him, or you could tell him the truth. You’re not sure what to do, and so you sit in silence for some time before you decide to bite the bullet.

“It isn’t that. I mean, I am more into doms but— that wasn’t it.”

You feel him go stiff behind you.

“Shit, was that too weird for you? I didn’t mean to force you into—“

“No! No, Santi, it was fine. I just— you’re into Frankie, right?”

Air escapes his lungs in something akin to a sob.

“What!? Why would you say that?”

He’s not denying it, which is a good step.

“C’mon man, you were watching him more than you were watching the TV.”

“Pendejo, no I wasn’t.”

“Pendejo” you mock him, “don’t gaslight me. I don’t care. This isn’t, we’re no strings, right? I’m just saying, I don’t wanna come between this thing.”

“There’s no thing to come between. Even if you were right, which you’re not, Fish isn’t into me like that.”

You laugh.

“O-kay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me. How would you know? You’ve known him for a grand total of an hour and a half.”

“He was looking at you, too. You know that, right? You’re just in denial?”

“I would’ve seen if he was looking at me.”

“Because you were looking at him.”

“Fine! Okay, I was looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me so what’s it even matter?”

“He was, Santi. He was looking at your cock and licking his lips like he was starved. I saw it.”

Santi huffs behind you, and it tickles your neck.

“I’m not lying to you. I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you a little bit.”

His arm around you tightens for a beat.

“Awww, so sweet, querido.”

“Shut up,” you huff, “you’re changing the subject. He was looking at you, like he’s always looking at you. I’ve watched him moon over you every single breakfast I’ve eaten here. You know how bad that makes me feel, eating the breakfast he made me while your cum drips out of me?”

“Fuck, why’d you say it like that? That’s so hot.”

“Because it’s true. If you guys have feelings for each other you need to figure that out before I die of a guilty conscience.”

You can practically feel Santi’s eyes roll behind you.

“Dramático,” he groans.

“You do have feelings for him. It seems like he does too. Get your poop in a group about it, man.”

“Will you still stay over? I’ll need a morning fuck if this is the way my weekend’s gonna go.”

——

I can’t do it. Frankie’s visiting his kid this weekend

The text comes a few hours after you shared your now routine, dysfunctional family breakfast, where Fish was indeed making googly eyes at Santi, and Santi’s cum was indeed leaking out into your underwear.

Likely story

No really. I don’t want to mess with his vibes, his kid is super important to him. It’s cute.

Oh my god just fuck him already

I’m TRYING okay? Can you help? I need moral support.

And look, it isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten.

So the two of you devise a plan. It’s convoluted as all hell, but also fairly simple. The next time their OnlyFans guy posts a video, Santi invites you over to watch again. Conveniently, just before you arrive, he spills a glass of red wine all over the seat of the armchair, and soaks the cushion trying to get the stain out of the beige fabric.

You show up, ‘none the wiser.’ Still, the vibes are absolutely weird in their two bedroom apartment. Frankie’s fidgeting on the couch, and Santi misses your cheek and plants a kiss to your eyelid. You have to get these boys together.

The plan goes off without a hitch from there. Santi flicks off the lights, and Frankie casts the video to the TV, just like they did last time, just like they’ve probably done dozens of times before. But now, the armchair is out of commission, so you all squeeze together on the couch. Santi’s in the middle, of course, his thick thigh pressing against your own as you all point your attention to the flatscreen.

You’re kind of excited. It’s a weird thing for you to be excited about, but you weren’t lying all those days ago. You do care for Santi. And Fish too, really, if only for the delicious breakfasts he makes, and for making Santi happy.

This time, you don’t wait for any of their cues. You pull your cock out as soon as the OnlyFans guy starts stripping his clothes. Santi grabs your hand, and for a second you think you’ve ruined the plan. But then spits into it, and Frankie groans from Santi’s other side as he watches the display. You moan a little too, partly for show, partly for the way Santi never fails to make your dick rock hard in record time.

You stroke yourself, and it goads the boys into pulling their pants down, too. The guy on the screen is doing things a little differently this time, fingering a see-through fleshlight as he lubes it up. This is hotter to you, anyway. It doesn’t take long at all for pre-cum to gather at your slit and slick your strokes even more.

By the time the guy is fucking into it with timid strokes, whimpering through the speakers, Santi still hasn’t made a move. You elbow him in the side, and he flinches, then elbows you right back.

You turn your head toward him, make like you’re kissing his neck, because Frankie’s eyes are about to pop out of his skull with the way he’s got them trained on Santi.

“Go on. You already have an audience,” you whisper.

Santi shudders, and Frankie looks away. Just in time, too. Santi eyes the way Fish is stroking himself, and then you hold your breath as Santi lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frankie’s cock.

“Ohmyfuckinggod.”

Frankie’s head thunks against the wall behind him, and his hips jolt up into the touch. You’re watching without any hesitation now, and Fish’s eyes are closed anyway. Santi squeezes and Frankie whimpers and scrambles to find Santi’s cock without looking.

“Fuck, Fish. Yeah?”

Santi’s voice is dripping with arousal, low and gruff, his cock twitching in Frankie’s grasp.

“Please, please.”

Frankie finally opens his eyes, lets his head loll to the side to look at Santi. But his eyes quickly flutter to you, his expression twisting up in confusion.

“Santi, what—“

“Shhh, hermano, s’okay.”

You lean forward, and for a moment you’re having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cradle into Santi’s side, not knowing if you’re helping or hurting their cause, but wanting to reassure them both that this is a good thing.

Frankie takes the encouragement for what it is, allowing himself to fuck up into Santi’s fist and look at him with hooded eyes, mouth gaping open.

Like a fish, you think, and chuckle against Santi’s neck.

“What’s happening? Why?”

Frankie looks between the two of you for an answer, and you bite down on Santi’s earlobe to goad him to answer.

“He caught you looking, last time. Caught me looking at you, too. Put two and two together for me. This okay?”

Frankie shudders and closes his eyes, but nods his head.

You watch both of them, their hands on each other’s pricks, their hips meeting the thrust of foreign fists.

“Waited so long,” Frankie whispers.

“Lo sé, me too.”

Their faces inch toward each other, and you nuzzle the curls at the nape of Santi’s neck. To encourage him, or maybe to shield your eyes from the intimate moment, or probably both.

You feel the kiss, the way Santi’s neck cranes and flexes, and you hear the ragged moans from their lungs, and you are rock hard.

But your work here is done. You may need to jerk off in Santi’s bathroom before you leave, lest you tumble down the apartment stairs since there’s hardly any blood flow to anywhere other than your dick.

But as you make to get up, Santi’s free hand plants firmly on your thigh. You still behind him, a rush of awkwardness flushes through your system.

His head leans back when he pulls away from the kiss, and you watch the way Frankie physically recovers from it, takes a big lungful of air and slowly opens his eyes, licks the taste of Santi from his lips.

“What do you think, Fish? Should we thank him?”

Your cock throbs where it’s pressed against Santi, and you feel him chuckle, but Frankie’s nodding his head fast and looking straight at you.

“Yeah, yes,” he answers, breathless.

“My bedroom or yours, hermano?”

“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”

They both laugh, and you find it in you to huff, but it’s anything but authentic when all you can think about is having these two men in bed with you, thanking you.

“Go get comfy, yeah? We’ll be there in a minute,” Santi tells you.

You’ve never moved more swiftly in your life, and you’re sure it looks so graceful, walking to Santi’s room with your hard prick swaying in the wind. But you, like Frankie, couldn’t give any less of a shit.

You undress in the now familiar bedroom, lie back on freshly washed sheets as you hear Santi and Frankie mumble, incoherent all the way out in the living room. Your heart rate picks up when you hear footsteps, but only one pair, and Santi struts in. You can hear rustling from beyond the door, a kitchen cabinet opening and closing.

“He‘a grabbing us some waters. I wanted to check in, make sure this is all okay? I know it wasn’t the plan.”

Now you laugh.

“Is it okay? Do I want two gorgeous men thanking me for squishing their heads together like Barbie dolls? It’s more than okay.”

Santi clicks his tongue at you.

“No need for the sass.”

Your blood runs cold at his tone shift, even as his lips quirk up just the tiniest bit at each corner.

Frankie walks in, then, and almost looks startled by the staring match happening. Still, he wades further into the room, sets a few glasses of water down on the nightstand.

You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, naked and spread out on the bed in front of these two men, fully clothed and practically leering at you. Frankie’s not so shy now; you can feel his eyes on you as they roam across every inch of exposed skin. It’s a heated, tense moment that only breaks when Santi tugs Frankie to him by the hem of his shirt.

Christ, is it hot to watch, the way Fish’s body goes lax as Santi’s tenses, grabbing the back of his neck. His strong arm flexes as his hand gets lost in Frankie’s curls. They share a kiss that looks like less lips and more teeth. Then Santi’s sliding his hands under Frankie’s shirt, along his flanks, exposing smooth, tan skin.

They part to fling their shirts off, and you can’t help it, you reach down to touch yourself. You’re watching something beautiful. Their dance is stilted with novelty but still looks so easy, familiar in an unfamiliar way.

Their noses bump together awkwardly at times, but their hands map out patterns across each other’s bodies that look practiced, like they’ve done this thousands of times before, if only in their dreams.

And they look incredible together. Santi’s thick and bulky, skin so taught over his frame. And Frankie is leaner, corded muscle covered in softer flesh. It looks so squeezable. It is, you find out, second-hand, by the way Santi grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, just to push him away to get his pants down.

They don’t part for long, and you’re stuck in this haze, a participant only by the way you’re sliding your hand lazily up and down your shaft while you watch them. Santi hasn’t waxed since you first met him, and now all that chest hair is growing in, a stark contrast to Fish’s hairless one. And you know it feels incredible, to be in Frankie’s position, getting scratched by all that wiry hair. You know his own hairless chest will be red and splotchy by the time the night ends, like yours has been countless nights before.

Finally, they come up for air, naked and heaving breaths across each other’s faces as they share a look. Santi raises his strong brow, tilts his head in your direction, and you’re snapped out of your voyeuristic state.

“Let’s show some gratitude, yeah?”

His voice is all low and hoarse, and you watch it affect Frankie in the same way it affects you, cocks jumping. And fuck, Fish does exactly as he’s told once Santi coaxes him with a playful slap to his ass. He crawls up between your legs, and his full lips are even more so now, bitten and slick and deep red. Glancing up at you with those long, pretty, fluttery lashes, his sweet brown eyes are all heavy-lidded and hesitant.

“This is okay?”

His voice is small, and he’s so goddamn perfect.

“Yes, Frankie. Please.”

You both exhale at the same time, and then he gets to it, immediately. His tongue hangs out of his mouth when he opens it wide, and he wastes no time sinking down on your prick.

“Jesus Christ, Fish.”

You damn near give yourself whiplash to look over to Santi, frozen in place next to the bed, eyes glued to where you and Frankie connect. The latter moans around your cock, encouraged to bob his head faster already, take you deeper.

“Knew you’d be such a good little cocksucker with those pretty lips. Fuck.”

It’s so hot, it’s too hot. You’re going to blow in record time with the warmth of Frankie’s mouth and the filth Santi is reciting.

He must see it in your face, the panic of this all being over way quicker than you want it to be. He kneels on the bed beside you both, gets a hand in Fish’s silky curls and you see the shudder that cascades down his body.

“Not a race, hermano,” Santi says, tugging at his hair to get him to lift off of your leaking prick.

Fish stares, wide-eyes and ragged breathing, as Santi arranges himself to lie beside him, both of their faces now inches from your throbbing cock.

“Control freak,” Frankie mumbles, but the smile on his face makes any heat from his words dissipate.

Santi punishes him with a bruising kiss anyway. Your hips jolt as Frankie’s hair brushes across your dick, so on-edge that even that whisper of a touch sends you reeling.

Santi chuckles around Fish’s bottom lip that he’s got between his teeth.

“He so sensitive, Fish. Gotta take it slow, alright?”

It makes your entire body burn, the way he’s talking about you like you’re not even there. The way he’s been guiding Frankie through everything so far, and the way Frankie follows so obediently.

Santi shuffles a bit, and Fish does too, so in-sync that you almost laugh. Their unplanned choreography has them both straddling one of your legs respectively, arms in between, their hands finding each other just close enough to your heavy sac that you can feel the heat coming off of them.

They both look up at you, and for a moment everything is so eerily perfect that it feels like you’re in some sick, twisted Truman Show remake, and this was all a ploy to get you into bed with them.

But then Santi looks at Frankie, a soft bueno? uttered toward him, and Frankie nods. Santi leans in, for what you assume is to kiss him more, but his nose brushes the base of your shaft. And then Fish leans in too, his own strong nose nuzzling just under your head.

Your hands find purchase on the backs of their necks, a light touch to ground yourself as you watch. It’s so fucking intimate, and you’re the catalyst for their exploration, and it’s driving you up the goddamn wall. Your curse and watch twin grins break out on their faces.

Shitheads, both of them.

They continue on with this dance, breathing in your scent as they nose up and down your cock. Their eyes open and close, but their gazes always seem to land on each other at the same time.

And then Santi leads, licking a long stripe up the side of you. Frankie follows eagerly once he catches on, meeting him for a sloppy dance of tongues all over the head of your dick, your frenulum, lapping up the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking from your slit.

It jerks wildly under their loose attention, and Frankie chuckles deep and low as he chases your cock and Santi’s mouth at the same time. Your nails start to bite into their napes, the burning in your gut becoming far too intense.

“Guys,” you gasp, “I— fuck. I can’t.”

Santi hums, leaves a playful nip at the base of your prick that nearly sends you over the edge. Fish lets up, intent to lick up every last drop of your taste from Santi’s mouth, and groans when he succeeds.

You’re all left panting for a minute. You can’t decide who to look at. Santi’s head has fallen onto your thigh, and Frankie’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, all along the dips and curves of his tan skin. Santi gets a hand around Fish’s cock, thumbing under the head in slow circles, soothing and relaxed.

“Everyone still having a good time?”

Santi’s tone implies he already knows the answer. A weak Jesus, yes huffs out of your vocal chords, just as Frankie nods his head eagerly where it rests in his palm.

Santi cranes his neck to look up at you, and already you know you’re in for it, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“You want Fish to fuck you?”

Your cock throbs near their heads, and Frankie snorts.

“Think that’s a yes, huh?”

You answer Fish with a nod. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone but Santi. The thought shorts out all the wires in your system as you realize you get to learn him this way, what he’s into, what he’ll want to do to you, and how different it is from his counterpart.

“All fours, both of you. He’ll let you eat his ass for hours, Fish,” Santi instructs.

“Jesus.”

If it weren’t for the way Frankie scrambles to get into position, you’d ask if he was alright with it. But once he’s hovering on his hands and knees between your legs, he’s manhandling you to do the same, and you love it.

Your cock sways and leaks between your thighs, and Fish pulls and tugs to get you exactly how he wants you. You feel even more exposed than usual like this, with these two men behind you. He spreads you open for him, and you feel your hole clench and relax as it’s exposed to the humid air of the bedroom.

Then he spits, perfectly aimed, and you feel his saliva trickle all the way down your taint, tickling your balls as it drips onto the sheets.

A puff of hot air is all the warning you get before his tongue is following that same trail in reverse, all the way up to where your crack meets your back, and then back down, and your elbows buckle and so does your resolve.

You moan a mix of curses and Frankie’s name, and it only eggs him on, gets him to zero in on your rim with his tongue, circling then flicking, over and over.

You try to crane your neck enough to see Santi when you hear him swear.

“You really fuckin’ like this. Don’t you, Fish?”

All you can see is his tight curls behind Frankie’s own arched back, and his big hands wrapped around Frankie’s slender hips.

You feel Frankie answer him, an incoherent groan into your asshole as the tip of his tongue breaches you.

You’re on fire. Your cock is leaking a really pathetic stream onto Santi’s bedding, neglected, and you know you won’t come without any friction, but you also don’t want to. Not for a while, not until you get to feel Frankie’s cock inside you, get to see Santi watch him fuck you.

You’re anything but impatient, though. Santi was right, the smug asshole. You could keep Fish here for eternity, especially with how fucking diligent his tongue is, lapping you up and pressing inside of you, over and over. It’s dizzying, especially when he begins making desperate noises against you.

You know he’s in for the time of his life. Santi, as smug as he is, loves eating your ass ‘for hours.’ He’s fucking sloppy with it, and he does this thing with his thumbs that drives you—

“Fuck! Ay dios, Pope, what the fuck?”

Frankie falls lax into you, his nose against your hole and his lips brushing your taint as he curses.

“Yeah, you like that? Want me inside this cute little ass?”

Fish whines, shifts his face so he can bite the tender flesh where your thigh and ass meet, and all you can do is groan and push back into him as he gives Santi his answer.

“Damelo, need you, please.”

Santi hums, and you can tell by how it’s muffled that his mouth is once again occupied. Frankie recovers, though his tongue is much less coordinated now, a messy flurry of licks as he prods at your entrance.

Then you hear it, the click of a bottle opening, bouncing off the bedroom walls in a familiar way. You clench around Frankie’s tongue, a Pavlovian response, and he groans and fits his lips around your hole and sucks.

You’re babbling now, strings of nonsense, begging, and praise in the otherwise silent bedroom. You know the exact moment Santi sinks his thick finger inside of Frankie, because you feel him stiffen and shake against you, feel his nails dig into the meat of your cheeks where he’s spreading you open.

His mouth retreats, and you whine, but he’s tugging on you again to get you to lie on your back.

It’s a fucking sight when you’re finally able to watch. Fish has his back arched like a goddamn cat, presenting his ass to Santi, mouth gaping open at his skilled fingers.

Santi’s looking over him, one large hand splayed out on his back to keep him still as he fucks into him with what you assume is at least three fingers, the way Frankie’s drool is dripping from the corner of his mouth. Santi’s eyes are glued to his ministrations, where he’s slowly thrusting in and out, his big bicep flexing as he goes.

He manages to tear his eyes away, though, to look at you and wink.

“How’d he do? Think he deserves to fuck you, papi?”

You whimper at the mere thought of it, finally feeling him inside you.

You shake your head, but Santi tuts.

“Yeah— Yes, Santi. He did so good.”

Santi’s lips tilt up into a wicked smirk.

“There he is, that’s it, tell Francisco how good he is for us, huh?”

You see Frankie’s cock throb between his legs, hear a pathetic little noise fall from his lips. You and Santi both get a curious but delighted look on your faces at his reaction.

“Did so good, Francisco.”

He shivers, hides his face in the bedding between your thighs for a hot minute. A lungful of air escapes him, slow and methodical, before he tilts his head back to Santi.

“Lube?”

Santi huffs, tosses the bottle next to Fish’s head.

“Doesn’t take long for him. He likes the stretch, don’t you bebito?”

You huff, and your face feels hot and prickly as both men look at you. You squirm, and you don’t want to answer, you want at least a tiny bit of pride going into this, because you know you’re bound to come out the other side with absolutely none.

“He asked you a question,” Frankie says.

His gruff voice makes your breath catch.

Santi hums his approval behind him.

“Yeah, yeah, just— just two, give me two and I’ll be good.”

“What do you say, papi?”

And Jesus, this is the most Frankie’s said all night and it has your toes curling.

“Please, Frankie.”

He makes a patronizing, satisfied noise that makes you want to hide but also expose yourself even more. You want to give him everything, him and Santi, let them use you to get their pleasure however they want.

But then Fish groans, and you see Santi’s arm twisting behind him, reaching for that perfect spot. He makes a mess squirting lube out onto his fingers, and you at least have enough control of your faculties to lift your sac out of the way so Frankie can spread it across your hole.

It twitches under his fingers, begging, and so are you, just incoherent babbles as he teases you, toys with you. You think you maybe could wait him out, knowing he doesn’t get his until his cock is pressed inside you, but you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please fuck me.”

“Yeah, good boy, there you are.”

You open your eyes at Santi’s voice.

“Give him what he wants, Fish. Give it to him so I can fuck you.”

Two fingers, right off the bat, pressed in slowly but surely in one swoop to the knuckle. You cry out, reaching for purchase and finding the bedsheets to twist into your clenched fists.

“You’re okay, you can take it, right?”

And it’s so goddamn mind-blowing, Santi talking you through it with Frankie’s fingers deep inside you.

You nod, opening your eyes again to look up at him. His eyes are so dark, and he’s stroking his thick cock as he continues stretching Fish out, and he looks hungry. He licks his lips and watches where Frankie’s fucking into you, boring holes where you’re connected. You have to reach down with your free hand and squeeze the base of your prick to get yourself together.

It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to relax around his digits with a few deep breaths. He praises you, that’s it, take ‘em so well, wanna be fucked so bad don’t you? Your head spins with it as he works you open. Little by little your legs spread wider for him, hips canting up to direct him to the spot inside you that you want him to reach so desperately.

But he doesn’t. Once it’s obvious you’re ready to take him, he slips his fingers out and wipes the residue on the inside of your thigh.

“Gonna take me now?”

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, as he grips behind your knees and pushes them to your chest. You answer anyway, your own voice so foreign to your ears as you plead for him.

Santi shushes you, and that familiar noise is calming enough to bring you back down to Earth, where he’s resting behind Frankie, one hand caressing his chest while the other grips his waist.

“Wanna be inside you, Fish,” he mumbles, nose pressed behind his ear, lips teasing his earlobe.

Fish’s eyes close, but he guides the head of his dick to your entrance and sinks in, blinding pressure as the head of him stretches you wide. When it slips past, you both gasp, and Santi groans into Frankie’s neck as he watches.

It feels like years, waiting for him to seat himself all the way inside you. It burns in the best way, friction that has goosebumps dotting every square inch of skin.

But then his thighs reach the backs of yours. He curses, moves your legs out of the way so he can cover your body with his own. Santi’s gaze is heavy where it falls, the place you and Frankie are fused together, as he spreads a healthy dollop of lube over his prick.

“Ready for me, baby?”

It’s palpable, the way the energy of the room shifts when Santi presses closer behind Frankie. Like he’s about to step off a ledge, Fish’s eyes widen and he looks at you with his brows drawn up tight. You reach for his curls, run your fingers through them, scrape your nails across his scalp in hopes that it evens out his breathing a bit.

Past Frankie’s shaking form, Santi’s expression is nearly identical. His bottom lip is caged between his teeth, brow furrowed, shoulders squared. His eyes flicker to you, and his features soften just a fraction before his hips begin to press forward.

Frankie sobs at first contact. His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. His cock is jerking inside you, rhythmic pulses as you watch Santi’s hips slowly inch forward.

“Relax for me, Fish. Deep breaths, baby. I’ve got you, take it for me.”

Santi sounds so wrecked. His voice is wispy, and so deep you can hardly hear from the bass in it. He’s never really sounded this way before, and the reality of this entire situation makes you clench around Frankie’s throbbing cock.

Santi curses in whispers, and you watch the sweat from his forehead drip down, between his eyes, down his nose, and drip onto Frankie’s heated skin. And then Frankie shifts, pulling out of you. And then, you realize, pressing Santi’s cock deeper inside himself.

You groan at the revelation, chase Fish’s hips with your own, a domino effect that sets both of them off as well. It doesn’t take much at all for them to find the right pace, like this is just as natural as everything else they do together. For a while you just take it in, let Frankie get his pleasure from you, let them discover the feeling of being so close to each other after a long while of only imagining.

Santi’s signature filthy mouth doesn’t make an appearance. Instead, he looks stunned silent above the both of you. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something, but all that leaves his lips are grunts and groans that Frankie echoes into your sternum. His eyes don’t know where to look, so they float between where he’s fucking Frankie, and your own roaming eyes, and finally land where your hand grips Frankie’s hair.

He lets go of one of Fish’s hips to tangle his fingers with your own, tugging on those chestnut curls. Frankie slams his hips into you at the sensation, bites down on the meat of your pec and keens before he lets Santi’s grip pull his head back.

His eyes are completely fucking black, no iris to be found when his heavy eyelids open to look at you. And it’s a very strange thing, when you watch him look right through you and call out Santi’s name.

Strange, but fucking hot.

“Let it happen, Fish.”

“No. I– I can’t.”

“You can, fuck, don’t hold it. Come inside so I can fuck it out of him.”

Frankie crumbles. You watch it happen, his eyes snapping shut as he chokes on a high-pitched sound. His face twists up, and you feel his hips stutter against you as he starts chanting Santi’s name, over and over. His cock jerks with every wave of his release, and he’s shaking, collapsing dead-weight on top of you.

“That’s it, did so good. Feel so fucking good squeezing me Fish.”

You’re momentarily squished by the weight of two grown men when Santi rests against Frankie’s back. He kisses where he can reach, soothing the place on his scalp where he was tugging at the hairs.

“Mierda, Santi, get off you fucking oaf.”

And it’s cute, the way Frankie gets so grumpy even after he’s just come his brains out. You ruffle his hair, when he’s finally not sandwiched between you two, let him collapse beside you instead with a sweaty arm draped across your middle.

You only have a few moments to appreciate the tenderness before Santi’s lifting your leg onto his shoulder pressing his thick fingers inside you. The noise is obscene, and Santi swears as Frankie’s cum trickles out of you.

You know you’re in for it now. Santi sets his jaw and arranges your hips so he can slide right into you. You moan at the feeling, and the knowledge of where his cock has just been, noises tumbling out of you as he picks up the pace where Frankie left off.

And you almost forget about Fish, caught up in the pleasure of Santi railing you just how he knows you like. But then a warm, trembling hand wraps around your cock, even though Santi’s own are gripping onto you tight, and it’s heaven.

“Let me see you come,” Frankie says, voice all hoarse and worn out.

You whine, loll your head to the side to look at him.

But this time Santi’s hand is grabbing you, just shy of too rough when he takes your chin in his hand.

“You look at me. Look at me when I make you come, papi.”

And you take it as an order, because Frankie’s hand speeds up and squeezes tighter, and Santi’s fucking into you deep and fast like he does when he’s about to come.

You shake with it when it finally happens. Your spend splashes down Fish’s knuckles, up your stomach, your chest, christ some of it even lands on your chin. And you know you’re babbling but you don’t know what words you’re using, only know that they come from high in your throat as you gasp for air.

Santi follows you so closely, burying himself impossibly deep as he releases. You hear Frankie encouraging him, but the sound is miles away as your head swims in that familiar, blissful place.

When the ringing in your ears settles, and your vision unblurs, and all your nerve endings don’t feel like they’re on fire anymore, Santi’s cock has been replaced by his tongue. You give a weak protest at the overstimulation as his greedy mouth licks the mess out of you. It doesn’t matter, he comes up for air just as soon as you realize where he’s at.

Your bleary eyes watch as Santi leans over you, grabs Fish’s face in his hands and tugs at his bottom lip with one of his thumbs. Frankie opens his mouth, obedient as ever, and then a mix of Santi’s cum and his own is tumbling from Santi’s lips into Fish’s mouth.

Once the damage has been done, an image that will forever be burned into your mind, Santi lets his lips press against Frankie’s. He kisses him deep but slow, savoring the concoction of tastes, until Frankie has to lean back for air.

And then it’s silent, and still, and a pit of dread makes itself known in your gut in record time.

“I’ll grab us some towels. Don’t either of you move a muscle.”

Frankie huffs but stays put. You shake out some of the tensed-up muscles in your legs, grasping for something to say to break the tension.

Turns out you don’t have to.

“Bossy little prick,” Frankie mumbles.

It makes a giggle bubble up out of you, even though it’s not even that funny. You suppose the nervous energy needed out somehow.

“Don’t know what you see in him,” you agree.

Frankie hums, tilts his head like he’s contemplating it.

“I’m kidding. He’s sweet. You’re a lucky guy, so is he.”

You’re interrupted when Santi reenters, two fluffy towels in hand. You tidy up as best you can, then sigh when you no longer have anything to occupy your hands with.

“Stay the night?”

And this time, those familiar words are uttered by Frankie. It surprises you. For a moment you think he’s just being nice, appeasing you. But his brown eyes do that same thing that Santi’s do, where they get all wide and watery and it’s impossible to say no.

So you snuggle under the covers, and it’s a bit awkward at first with an extra set of limbs. Santi takes his coveted position as big spoon, but this time behind Fish. Then Frankie coaxes you closer, a hand at your back to urge you to rest your head on his outstretched arm.

The three of you talk about how hard you’re all going to sleep, and you close your eyes and listen to two other sets of breaths. You let it lull you to the edge of consciousness. Just before you slip under, Santi’s voice is deep and smooth.

“Te amo.”

And Frankie’s whisper is just as silky.

“Te amo.”

—

In the morning, you all wake up slow, and take care of business, and mosey out into the kitchen. It’s natural to watch Frankie make eyes at Santi over his eggs, but you know that Santi’s routine walk to your Uber will be anything but.

Their apartment door slams heavy behind you two as you head to the normal pick-up spot.

“So this is probably it, huh?”

You have to force yourself to look at Santi’s face, squinting in the mid-morning sun.

His brows draw up, and you really hope he doesn’t make this anymore awkward than it needs to be.

“It doesn’t have to be, no.”

His head shakes back and forth with his declaration, and you almost flinch when he reaches for your hand.

“Listen. Give us some time, you know? Let us… figure… this out. Once we settle, I wanna see you again. Fish does too.”

You’re sure your face is doing something funny, because Santi laughs and pushes you.

“Not gonna get rid of us that easy, cabrón.”

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