#i am running into the woods and never coming back. i don't know who i became while writing this. it wasn't me it was patricia.

[miraclewoozi]

ODE TO A CONVERSATION (STUCK IN YOUR THROAT) - c.sc

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else, anyway.  (and it hits me — i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do, like i do, like me. is it okay? that i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do.)

pairing; choi seungcheol x fem!reader.  genre; smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) with a little bit of plot. friends-ish to lovers to (healthy) exes to fwb to -- warnings; writing early parts of this felt low-key pretentious but it was kinda on purpose because i was trying something stylistic and outside my normal?? so??? but on a real: swearing. alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk at the time of having sex). reader is written to be wearing makeup. it's kinda just filth. proof read but all the words just melted together eventually (if i missed a typo, no i didn't <3) smut warnings under the cut! w/c; 6k. a/n; del water gap’s ode to a conversation stuck in your throat was my most listened to song last year. i now can’t listen to it without thinking about s.coups (i also just point blank can't stop thinking about s.coups) -- enjoy x

smut warnings: big! dick! seungcheol!, making out, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected p-in-v sex (make good choices), lil bit of edging if u squint, overstimulation if u tilt ur head like 82º to the left, manhandling, soft-ish dom!cheol, lotta praise, use of pet names (babe, baby good girl, my girl, sweetheart), kinda possessive!cheol, jealous!cheol, biting and marking (hickeys, digging nails in), light light light light light crying/dacryphilia (not really, like there are Some tears in eyes but just to be safe ig)

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. 

Easier than with anyone else, anyway. 

You’d known him in passing for a long time before anything happened. A friend of a friend — someone you always smiled at and chatted with at social events, because he was easy to smile at, and so very easy to chat to. You can’t even remember which birthday or New Year’s party or Halloween bash or Saturday night jamboree was the first: they’ve since all just dissolved into one pleasantly foggy memory, and every time you saw him thereafter he made you feel so comfortable, so at home that it felt like the hundredth.

And it continued that way for a few years. Pleasantries exchanged in friends' kitchens, conversations across beer-garden tables. Catching up on each other's lives in a hallway outside the bathroom for handfuls of minutes at a time before one of you inevitably got tugged away by the friend you were waiting for. You were comfortable with him, around him: he just had that kind of energy. So on a big group night out one evening, when you found yourself feeling a little uncomfortable being flirted with by someone you had never met, you instinctively flashed Seungcheol a look from across the bar. He came straight over and immediately to your rescue; with him slipping all too naturally into the fake role of your unimpressed significant other, you realised that it was easy to be whisked away under his arm, easy to let him buy you your next drink, easy to let him kiss you breathless just to really drive the pretend point home. 

Staring up at him after, feeling his drink-chilled hands cupping your cheeks, watching his gaze flicker between your lips and your eyes, you realised that igniting a spark had never felt so…

And it was easy to kiss him again later that night under the influence of a little too much wine and blanketed by a couple of lowered inhibitions. It was easy to giggle into the crook of his neck as he leaned against a stone wall, trailing his fingers up and down your arms, rambling about how he wanted to kiss you again and again and again and forever, maybe, because he thought your smile was beautiful and your lips were so soft and you tasted like cherries, and he liked cherries, and if you could kiss him every day he’d never have a reason to be unhappy ever again. It was so fucking easy to fumble in your purse for your phone, to let him put in his number, and when he asked you if he could take you out for dinner, when he messily typed a text message out begging the same question and sent it to you (‘so we both remember, tomorrow’), it was so, so easy to say yes. 

Then, the first date? It was beyond easy. You talked and talked and laughed and laughed, each of you having a few cocktails with your food, never running short of conversation, never not finding little ways to touch each other both under and over the table. Arranging the second, and then the third, and inviting him up for a coffee after date number five was easy, and falling into bed with him was easy. Holding him close, your sweat-slicked bodies moving as one entity in the dark: it was easy, and the pillow-talk after about what this growing thing between you was, came so damn…

So you introduced him to your parents, and your other friends, and in turn he did the same with you. Two and a half years breezed by, then, and even the hard parts… Even the arguing and time spent away from one-another, whether he was sleeping out on your couch following an emotionally charged spat or trips taken as part of his job demanded he spend weeks at a time without you. The hard parts? By comparison to everyone before him, they were easy. Anniversaries and birthdays and Valentine’s days: he spoiled you, and you doted on him, and being together was just so–…

Even the day you decided to end your romantic pursuit, while impassioned, wasn’t hard. In part, maybe it was because it was a long time coming: you still loved each other deeply but your lives were so chaotic and different, and it wasn’t fair to keep waiting around for each other when it just clearly wasn’t your time. And in part, because he was so calm in how he held your hand tightly in his (even when he dried your tears), how he kissed your forehead, in how he told you that you deserved more than the life he could give you. And at the end of it all, when he promised to always be there for you, naturally you promised the same back. 

Keeping that promise? Well. It was easy. 

So what if it took a few weeks for things to feel sort of normal? If you had to remember how to greet him without offering your lips for a kiss or your arms for a hug? If you had to get used to sleeping alone, and waking up alone, all over again? The thing that mattered was that he was still in your life, and you were still in his: your relationship wasn’t broken, it was just different, and once the little transition period was over, once you were both used to your new normal… Being ‘just friends’ was kind of easy. 

(Kind of, being the operative phrase.)

Six months post split, you mentioned to him in passing that you were going on a date the following day. As soon as you realised what you’d said, you regretted bringing it up, but without missing a beat Seungcheol lowered his drink and raised an eyebrow at you, excitedly asking you to tell him everything. The person’s name, what they were like, how you met them, where you were going. He didn’t feel like your ex-boyfriend, then and there: he felt like a best friend. So you told him every detail, and he listened intently, following up by requesting you text him when you got to the date and again when you got home so he knew you were safe. Of course, you said that you would. First, because it was sensible. Second, his requests were easy enough.  

And the date went okay, all things considered: the guy was nice, if a little bit awkward, and you had a good time bowling with him and playing some games in the old arcade, but there just wasn’t a spark. Everything felt difficult. Forced. So when he was the one to say to you after that he’d had a nice evening but felt that maybe you should just be friends, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Letting out a breath and giving a genuine smile, you agreed, thanking him for his refreshing candour, before bidding him good night and making your way back to your car. 

You held your phone between your fingertips for a while as the engine ran and the heating started to kick in, slowly warming you from the outside, in. As you thawed, you bit the inside of your cheek absentmindedly, a potentially questionable decision planting itself in your mind. Your body didn’t mind how good of an idea your brain thought it was, though. Your fingers moved entirely of their own accord; finding and pressing Seungcheol’s contact name was so starkly different to everything else had been, all damn night. It was easy. His sleep-roughened voice drifting down the phone sounded so easy. Asking if he minded you swinging by his place for a coffee and a debrief felt easy.

Two hours later, writhing on his mattress, two orgasms deep with his head still buried between your thighs and one of his hands groping at your tit as if his life depended on it?

Fucking. Easy.

So then, started the pattern. Waking up the next morning absolutely swimming in one of his oversized t-shirts should’ve felt like guilt and a betrayal of all your self-growth, of your moving on, of your friendship. It should’ve felt uncomfortable and gross and maybe a little panic-inducing, but it never did. It was warm and cosy, it was familiar and comforting, and when he greeted you ‘good morning’ with a pillow to the face, you knew that nothing was ruined; rather, this was just another new difference to your ever-changing relationship with him. Waking up this way… Well, it felt—

Look, you’re only human. You both have needs. After spending two and a half years learning each other's bodies, being together in that way again came so, so… 

After every date gone wrong, after every stressful week at work, in the midst of every family drama and friendship breakdown, you found yourself seeking respite in his apartment, between his bedsheets. In his tongue lapping at your pussy; in the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat until he spilled his release into your mouth; in the slow, deep, precise thrusts of his hips as he buried himself inside you over and over and over and over, taking your mind off the stress and concentrating only on making you feel good, on helping you forget everyone and everything else–… 

And now?

Well, now, you’re on your way back from yet another miserable date.

About three months ago, you stopped even considering giving the taxi drivers directions to your own place. Now, when you slide into the backseat, you automatically reel off the address you always end up at after a night like this. When your dates only talk about themselves, or say something so wildly out of pocket that it makes your toes curl (and not in a good way), or exclusively go on and on and on about their ‘crazy’ ex partner, you’ve grown all too used to showing up pouting at your friend’s front door. 

What? 

Being greeted by his knowing smirk and him inviting you inside is familiar; stepping across the threshold and kicking off your shoes in the hallway feels just so… easy.

Flopping down on the couch is easy, and waiting for Seungcheol to come back into the living room with two gleaming glasses and a bottle of wine is easy. Shuffling closer until you have your head resting against his shoulder is easy. Sipping at a chilled glass of rosé with his arm around you, the tip of his finger rubbing tiny circles against the point of your shoulder, eyes fluttering at this perfectly normal, totally platonic, absolutely-not-leading-anywhere-this-time contact is…

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks a few seconds after you set your now half-empty glass down. Your lips curl a little into a grimace on one side and a soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest.

You swear you can feel it vibrate all the way down to your bones.

“What is there to even talk about?” you sigh. “He wouldn’t stop comparing me to his mother, strike one. Spent twenty minutes explaining the plot of my favourite movie back to me, strike two. And then, after all that, threw a tantrum when I swerved his kiss goodbye after he’d eaten basically a whole loaf of garlic bread. Strike three. You’re out.”

He laughs again, and you adjust your head to peer up at him but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring off at the opposite wall, not even glancing down when his arm tightens to pull you even closer. On cue, you nuzzle your head down into the muscle beneath his t-shirt, and you sigh. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask. 

“Nothing,” he says breezily. “Just… You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“I don’t deliberately go out with people one screw short of a toolbox, Cheol,” you grumble, lightly slapping his chest. “They always seem fine when we start talking.”

“Mhm,” he hums. You feel him move slightly and then his lips are being pressed to the part of your hair. You’re sure it’s supposed to be a little condescending, but it kind of tingles instead. But that’s just because of the way his breaths play over your roots. Isn’t it? “I know.”

“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to find someone who—”

“Hey, I know, y/n,” he says again, still softly but just a little firmer this time. “It’s not your fault all these guys are dicks. But-…”

He trails off, tongue pressed lightly against his top teeth, and decides that maybe finishing this sentence isn’t the smart way to proceed. You wait a few seconds, just in case he changes his mind, and poke at his chest again when he doesn’t. 

“But what?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It was a stupid joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me,” you whine. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

It’s his turn to sigh, now. “But…” he starts, pausing for a mixture of allowing his nerves to settle and for dramatic effect. “I’m not complaining: the worse your date goes, the better sex we have after.”

It momentarily stuns you into silence and you suck your teeth at the remark, shaking your head. But you don’t sit up, you don’t shove him away, you don’t argue the point he’s just made whether it was a joke or not. Because…

“I hate that you’re right.”

His hand slides down behind you until it’s wrapped around your waist, his bicep strong against your back and his fingers light as they fiddle with the fabric of your blouse. 

“No you don’t,” he tells you, lips tweaking up on one side. 

You sigh, burrowing closer into his chest. He’s wearing the cologne he knows you like most and it smells faint, worn, as if he’s had it on for hours, all despite being only dressed in basketball shorts and a white vest. His plans tonight started and ended with you, and showing up here wasn’t promised until you were on his doorstep. Something about knowing he wore it just in case triggers an all too familiar ache between your legs.

Giving in to it?

Ha. 

It’s too fucking easy.

“Shut up,” you grumble. Your hand uncurls and your fingers splay over his chest, confessing your agreement and laying the foundations for you even if you deny what you want out loud. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” He asks at the exact moment you can feel his nails graze at your skin beneath your shirt. “Do you really?”

“Yeah.” You shift slightly, searching for just a crumb of relief from the press of your thighs, but it never comes. 

“I see.” He flattens his palm against your side, the other hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes not quite meeting yours as they fixate on the strands already sliding back to their former place against your cheek. 

He gently clears his throat, tongue darting out over his lips for the most fleeting of moments, and when he speaks again, it’s lower, quieter, softer. “But if you hate it sooo much…” he ducks his head, close enough that his lips brush the corner of your mouth as he moves them. “Why are you here?”

He bumps the tip of his nose against your cheek, subtly turning your face so if you so much as shuffle, hiccup, breathe in too deeply, your smiles would meet. But they don’t. A hair’s breadth apart, you linger, eyes meeting his in a scorching challenge. One he doesn’t back down from. One he holds, and holds, and holds – waiting, for you, for his answer.

“Because,” you croak. Your throat feels dry, your eyelids suddenly heavy, lashes fluttering. 

“Because?” he taunts, his chuckled exhale tickling the tiny hairs all over your skin. 

You maintain his gaze still, and he chuckles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. when you don’t speak for a few seconds more, he takes it upon himself to finish the sentence for you.

“Because you know,” he drawls, gravelly but still somehow heaven-sent and honey-sweet. “That no-one else does it for you the same way I do. Do they?”

You shake your head, the muscles in your neck tight as you wrestle with them not to surge forward and topple against him in a kiss. Seungcheol is an easily pleased man, but you know he loves a bit of a chase and it would be a little rude not to reward his hospitality by giving him one. 

“Say it,” he urges. You’re acutely aware of how his breaths stop fanning against your face once the words are out of his mouth, but you don’t give him anything yet. “Come on. You could have any one of those idiots if you wanted them, but you don’t.” A pause. “Do you?”

You swallow hard, cheeks growing hot. You shake your head again, “No.”

“Because…”

And after one, two, three, four, five thundering beats of your heart—

“Because I want you.”

Seungcheol smirks as he pulls your chin up, finally bringing his plush lips down against your own. It’s soft. almost tender. Barely moving — just a press, but it sends waves of energy through you anyway. 

“You’ve got me,” he says, pulling back an inch, studying your desperate eyes with his own. “Always gonna have me.”

And suddenly, it’s like his entire world might stop if he lets you go.

Both of his hands cup your cheeks as you shift up onto your knees, your own fingers grasping for dear life at his vest. He kisses you as if he could swallow you whole: hard and deep, breathing hot through his nose as his tongue works its way into your mouth and finds your own. You groan, and hearing the sound draws one out of him, too. There’s just something about kissing Seungcheol, and being kissed by him: you don’t even have to think. He just does. You just do. It’s easy.

His hands find the bottom of your shirt and he pulls upwards, separating from your lips to pull it over your head and toss it haphazardly towards the floor. He reconnects with you almost immediately, hands sliding down from your face to your exposed neck, to your shoulders, toying with the strap of your bra.

“You wear this for me, or him?” he asks, breathing heavily as he looks down at your covered tits, the red and white garment sitting pretty against your skin.

“Who d’you think?” you ask, equally fighting to gasp air into your lungs. 

“Better not have been for fuckin’... Captain mommy issues,” he mutters, kissing you hard one more time before his lips attach to the side of your neck. “Never liked the sound of that guy. Thought you were too good for him.”

“S’that right?” You ask, tilting your head back and stuttering out a sigh, lacing it with wisps of a laugh. “You never said so.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth and you swear you can feel every capillary beneath the surface burst one by one, your body-heat climbing to almost unbearable territory. “You were excited,” he says. “Just ‘cause I don't agree with your choices, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be an ass about it.”

And for someone trying their best to cover your throat in as many bruises as possible (no doubt so that if you bump into the asshole from HR who took you out tonight when you’re back at work on Monday, he’ll see that you had a plenty good time without him), it… feels kind of sweet that he’d hold himself back in the name of your theoretical happiness.

“Too good to me,” you chuckle. You’ve long since released your hold on his vest and are now threading your fingers through his hair. He kisses and sucks down over your collarbone, grinning against your skin all the while. 

“So?” he asks, tugging the top of your bra in between his teeth.

You glance down at him, biting your bottom lip at the sight. His pupils are blown-out, drowning his familiar warm, chocolatey eyes in black pools of desire. No lies, that’s always been your agreement. No lies. So you tell him the truth, pushing your chest up towards him and pressing his head down slightly so his top lip brushes against your tit. 

“Wore it for you, Cheol.”

“Mhm. That’s my girl.”

He sits up straight and pulls you down to him, smashing his lips against yours again as his hands slide around your back, fingertips making quick work of your bra clasp. He pulls the straps down your arms, grunting at the feeling of your breasts relaxing against his own chest; the bra joins your shirt on the floor, and soon after follows his vest, your hands clawing at it to get it off him as fast as you can.

“Up,” he says as your hands trail over his stomach, fingers dipping into every groove of muscle, feeling how they ripple as he reflexively tenses them under your touch. “Now.”

You oblige, climbing off the couch and standing upright. His hand finds the back of your shoulder and he guides you around to the side of the sofa, promptly pushing you down over the arm-rest so your face meets the cushions you were both just sitting on. He pulls your pants down your legs and helps you step out of them, dropping down to his knees and kneading at your thighs with a guttural moan.

“Gonna make you forget all about him, y/n,” he says. “Make you feel so good you won’t even remember his name.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your ass. “So-... fucking good to me…”

He adjusts the position of your legs, bumping them apart until he can settle on his knees between them. His nose drags against the crease between the top of your thigh and the bottom of your ass, his lips trailing kisses all the way from the outside of your leg to where your pussy is throbbing for him. He skips over it, though, nipping and licking at the back of your other thigh, until you’re rocking your hips back to try and push him into your core.

“Be a good girl,” he chuckles, thumbing over the wet-patch in your panties. “I’m gonna look after you. I promise.”

His tongue meets your wetness just a moment after, dragging over the fabric and making you whimper. Your hands scramble to clutch onto something, one grabbing the edge of the seat cushion and the other balling into a fist. 

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss, feeling the heat from his mouth all over you. “Please – I need it. I need you.”

“Shh,” he says. You can feel his lips twist into a smile. God, you wish you could see him right now. “I’ve got you.”

When exactly his fingers tucked themselves under the waistband of your underwear, you’re not sure: all you know is that one minute, he’s breathing in your scent through the seat of your panties, and the next he’s yanking them down your legs and diving into your cunt like it’s his last meal on death-row. The sheer force of his hands gripping your thighs and his head burying itself between them makes you stumble forwards, the couch groaning as it shifts against the laminate flooring, and you cry out a wet sob of his name.

Who were you kidding, before, when you thought that this wasn’t going to go anywhere tonight?

The build-up to this started the second you told him about the date a week and a half ago.

But you can’t think about the mediocre pasta dish you ate this evening, or the moron who sat across from you at the table who kept checking his phone and glancing over your shoulder. You can’t think about how many times he went to the bathroom after receiving a text, or how he came back grinning cockily before he sat back down. 

All you can think about is how deep Seungcheol’s tongue fucks into you. How he fucking slurps all the wetness your pussy can give him, how he groans and moans and chuckles every time he shifts his head forward and flicks the muscle over your clit. Your head is spinning and your eyes begin smarting at the corners when his nails on one hand dig harshly into the fat at the top of your thigh. It stings, but it feels so fucking good. Your knees are weak, you’re about to bite clean through your lip in an attempt to be respectful to Seungcheol’s neighbours, and your knuckles are sore from the force with which your fist is clenched. 

Lord, he’s good.

“Don’t hold back,” he gasps, pulling away from you, a string of his own spit and your arousal still connecting him to your pussy. “C’mon, babe. I can feel you’re close.”

The loss of his mouth genuinely feels like the end of the world and you could buckle, in this moment. But he’s done this on purpose: he always does. He knows you. He knows the sounds you make and the way your body moves when you’re tantalisingly on the edge of your climax. His thumbs rub circles into your thighs and you just know he’s got the most obnoxious, insufferable grin on his face behind you while he does it: you can picture it, so perfectly. So easily. 

The orgasm you didn’t quite reach starts to ebb away from you and you give a grumble of frustration, pushing up onto your palms to turn around and look at him.

“You’re such a bastard, Cheol,” you hiss, and he grins back at you, his lips swollen and shiny as he licks over them.

“Get that pretty face back down, baby. I’m not done.”

It feels like a delightful punch in the gut, so you do. You drop back down onto your elbows, feeling him shift his position but you can’t see to what; his body heat never leaves yours even when his hands aren’t on you anymore, so you know he hasn’t stood up or gone far. It’s only when you clear your throat that you feel him again. Sat down with his back to the couch, between your thighs, nosing at your clit to get you worked up all over again: his fingers trail over your folds, collecting your arousal, spreading your lips and tonguing between them. You whine for him, keening and confused but overwhelmed at the stark shift from before. How he touches your pussy like it’s the first time, like it’s the last. 

He presses one long finger inside you, free hand pushing your hips into just the right position that he can suck your clit into his mouth. You feel yourself grinding down against his hand, begging him for more without having the words to ask for it, but Seungcheol doesn’t need to be asked. It’s intuitive to him. Eating you out could well be his day job. Another finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out of you at a pace you adore, his tongue flicking precisely over the bud in his mouth.

Your disappointingly lost orgasm from before starts to creep up on you again, and you know he knows it too. But this time, he doesn’t slow. This time, he doesn’t stop. He hums in the back of his throat: it’s permission, you realise, to come undone; burying your face further into the cushions, you let out a muffled series of expletives, sobs, moans of his name. You tumble over the edge with a broken cry, fingers curling into the couch cushions, and he only pulls away when your knees actually give out.

His strong frame is the only thing still holding you up by the time you’ve stopped twitching through the aftershocks, remembering how it feels to have full lungs and a working pair of eyes. You roll your head to the side as he slips out from beneath you, immediately sliding his arm around your waist and leaning over you to keep you steady. Through the material of his shorts, you can feel his hard-on poking at your ass: the fact that you’re this fucked and he hasn’t put his cock inside you yet makes your eyes water.

“Okay?” he asks, pressing tender kisses down the length of your spine. You just breathe, nodding with difficulty owed to your current position and the way all your muscles suddenly feel a hundred times heavier than normal. “Talk to me, sweetheart. You okay?”

“M’okay,” you say. “Just… gimme a sec…”

He keeps pressing his lips all over your back, hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips as you fully recover. You nod again when you’re a little more communicative, pushing up onto your elbows once more.

“Said I’d look after you,” he says. “And you were so good for me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, swallowing hard as you twist your spine uncomfortably to look back at him. Fuck it, maybe he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Is that some great secret? Is it such a crime?

“You always are, baby.”

He looks down at you again: at the shape of your body, bent so crudely over the arm of his couch. At your messed-up hair, your smeared makeup, your soft, dewy eyes. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing hard, running a finger from between your shoulder-blades all the way down towards your ass.

“Can I?” he asks, pushing his hips against you again, your still-soaked pussy smearing arousal all over the front of his shorts where it meets them. 

“Please,” you nod, shifting your legs slightly to try and get more comfortable. He drops his shorts in a matter of seconds, cock springing free from their confines. It’s thick and veiny, leaking in his palm as he strokes it, one hand coming back to rest on your hip.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighs. “You’re doing so good.”

The head feels delicious against your swollen cunt and you gasp at the pressure of him sliding through your folds, leisurely lubing himself up with your arousal. It glides over your clit and you can’t contain the slight hiss that escapes you. He starts to say something, his voice just audible to you where you’re propped, but for some reason he stops short, and you don’t quite hear him anyway. There’s not enough time to dwell on it though: your eyelashes flutter closed when he prods at your entrance, pushing into you with hardly any resistance at all, and his unstarted, unfinished sentence is forgotten.

It’s still a stretch to take him and he eases himself deeper until his hips are pressed fully against your ass. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust, letting your body mould to the shape of his own, and it’s only when you reach back with one hand to gently nudge against his wrist to give an okay that he starts to move.

“Good girl,” he says, quieter this time. Like he’s distracted. Like he’s contemplating. But you don’t ask, because you don’t really want to know: every drag of his cock against your walls feels like fireworks bursting over every inch of your skin, like being engulfed in flame, and nothing could take you out of how electric you feel. “Taking me so, so well.”

His hips start to thrust against you quicker, snapping so his cock buries itself deep but mercilessly quickly into your pussy. It’s only a matter of minutes until you’re clenching around him and when you do, Seungcheol – who you noticed early on into your relationship was one of the most vocal men you’d ever had in the bedroom – stops holding back the sounds you think back to when it’s just you and your trusty vibrator against the world. You swear that half the reason your sexual chemistry with him is so unrivalled is because of how loud you can both get.

You don’t know how long he’s fucking you for, sweat beading over both of your bodies and leaving you slick all over. What you do know, though, is that when he bends down over you, supported by one hand bracing his weight against the cushion by our head, he’s close. 

He isn’t groaning and grunting anymore. He’s whining. So agonisingly hard and so painfully wound up that he could snap. His voice is little more than a whimper in your ear when his lips ghost over the shell of it, thrusts slowing as he tries to stave off his high just a little bit longer.

“Wanna drown in this pussy,” he says, eyes squeezed shut, jaw falling slack as you spasm around his length again. “Shit – I love y-... love this… love this so much-...”

And this time, you fucking notice.

This time, you hear him. You know what he said before, now. When you didn’t care, when you just wanted him to fill you up, when you just wanted to have him pound into you until your brain disconnected from failed romances and shitty dating apps and people who weren’t him. Because he started to say it then, too – started to say I love y–

And this time… you say it, back. 

“I love you too, Cheol.”

Jesus, fuck.

Loving Choi Seungcheol is the easiest thing in the world.

He freezes, buried inside you all the way to the hilt, a bead of sweat running down the bridge of his nose and hanging onto the tip for dear life. His eyes shoot open, his head turns, and you meet his gaze by turning your own. He’s feeling everything. All at once. So are you. Arousal and need and fear – God, so much fucking fear – but love. Adoration, affection, endearment, devotion – shit, he feels it all, and it’s written in every line of his face, and when his lips move into a smile, when the corners of his eyes crease, when he lets it wash over him, it feels better than any orgasm he’ll have for the rest of his life.

Even the one that explodes through him when you start to grind yourself back on his cock and he lets go, fingers scrabbling to hold your hand, lips finding home on the back of your shoulder. He paints your insides with his cum, fucks it into you for as long as he can physically withstand. You don’t even have it in you to chase another climax of your own, too blissed out in the relief of your own feelings to feel inclined to try. 

So, maybe there’s a reason you kept accepting dates with men you knew you weren’t compatible with. 

Maybe there’s a reason you didn’t give those other people a real chance.

Maybe there’s a reason you always found yourself looking forward to the end of every night having dinner with a stranger.

Because all the roads lead you here. Because it’s easy being here – it’s where you belong.

He stays sheathed inside you for a little while longer, pressing kisses everywhere his lips can reach before he has to pull his softening cock from its home between your legs. You lament at the feeling of emptiness, even as his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright for the first time in so long that your legs feel like jelly. It’s okay, though. He holds you against his chest, burying his head into your neck – there’s no way you’re going to fall.

(At least, no more than you already have.)

“I’ll give you everything,” he whispers to you, moving your hair out the way so he can press small, doting kisses to the line of your jaw. “I can give it to you. I was a fucking idiot before – I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t know if I can be perfect but anything you want–...”

“I just want you, Cheol,” you tell him. “Everything – screw all that. I just want you.”

“Be with me?” he asks. You nod, feeling him light up in a smile for the hundredth time tonight. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure it’s as blindingly beautiful as the first smile he sent your way, all those years ago. (It was Joshua’s birthday. You remember that, now.) And the second. And every damn time since. “Forever, this time.”

“Forever, this time,” you agree.

Because spending forever with the man who lifts you into his arms and carries you towards his shower, so you can clean down and get ready for bed? Right now, it sounds so –

But everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else.

thank u so much for reading! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so appreciated<3

#s.coups smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups x reader #j writes. #* #i am running into the woods and never coming back. i don't know who i became while writing this. it wasn't me it was patricia. #send help. i had one singular marble left. seungcheol has fucking FLOWN away with it. i have gone fully fucking insane. #good BY E

[bellarkeselection]

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#cole x reader #cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #jackie howard #alex walter #friends to lovers #lost in the woods #horse ranch #colewalteredit #Spotify

[angelltheninth]

So I just fell into the rabbit hole that is COD and am currently obsessing over König and Ghost. How do you think they would both react to a S.O who is into primal play? Like convincing them both to chase and hunt their S.O through the woods. And if they catch her/him they get a reward?

I love primal play! So much adrenaline and it just needs to go somewhere!

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley, König x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, primal play, outdoor sex, predator/prey kink, breeding kink, mating press, creampie, kifeplay, size difference, begging, slight dub-con

A/N: Lost in the Woods but it's sexy.

Simon doesn't need much to be scary, his mask already does the job well enough and his large frame is more then build to play the role of someone who's chasing you

Until he hears a safeword he knows not to stop, no matter what, and he won't

He's like a tank when he's running through the woods, almost like there aren't any obstacles in his way

Well there is one, his cock which throbs more every time he catches a glimpse of you

You can, and will, take care of that once he catches you

Lets you know how easy it is to do so

He'll pin you to a tree, breathe and growl against your neck, give you a taste of his cock, make you suck him just enough so he can run at full speed again and then he'll let you get away again

Like cat and mouse he'll do this until he bores of it, upon which he becomes a lion and holds you to the ground, your squirming rendered futile, your hole wet and ready for his throbbing cock

He's not satisfied with just filling up your pussy, he wants to see your whole body bathed in his cum, your pussy, your tits, your ass, your stomach, your face, your thighs, your back

You said you would be his prize, his reward if he caught you, so act like it and let him fuck you as many times as he sees fit until he has to carry you back as your legs are worse then useless by the time he's done with you

König likes the chase, he likes it a lot, he was interested in the idea of it ever since you first admitted that you'd like to give it a try

He prepared a few things in advance, secret from you, it's not fun if you know all of his tricks right away

Likes to follow you but remain largely unseen for the most part

Wants to really build up your adrenaline, he wants to see you sweat as you don't know which direction he could be coming from until it's too late and he's pouncing on you to hold you down

With his muscular built holding you down is nothing

You can feel his cock throbbing against you while he ruts into you with little semblance of control to speak of

He takes out his hunting knife and presses the flat of the blade against your face, then your neck watching as you gulp, your eyes never leaving his, not even when he cuts through your clothes and leaves them in tiny shreds

He holds your writs down with one hand and pulls your legs up on his shoulders by the other, keeping you from moving as the tip of his cock finds the entrance to your pussy, drenched with your arousal, your body giving away your desires

Waits for a final nod from you, waits for you to present like good prey

On the first stroke he's already balls deep, slapping away, barely taking his cock out because of how good your pussy feels when it's being opened and taken by him in such a merciless way

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #könig #könig x reader #könig smut #konig x reader #konig smut #cod #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty #cod headcanons #cod imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut

[weaselle]

RECOVERY

I spent a lot of my life depressed without admitting it to myself and then i spent a year so depressed i could hardly make myself do the bare minimum to keep my body alive, and now it's about 3 years since i got up from that lowest point and while i am still struggling with myself things are objectively a lot better.

and i just want to put a couple things i've learned, both to remind myself of how far i've come, and in case any of what i've experienced helps anyone else.

You can't run from the darkness

When you're super depressed it's easy to focus on how much you don't want to be depressed. When everything is darkness you tend to wish you could escape that darkness.

but you can't. The darkness is all around you. You can't run away from it without running deeper into it.

instead, follow the light.

don't think of it as escaping depression, think of it as seeking joy. Don't run away from the darkness, walk toward any lights you can see.

At first it will be very small things. The taste of a food. The way your favorite color looks. A smell you like. For me one of the first things i could find to remind me of joy was the way a warm shower feels.

I would just stand in the shower and lean into the tiny, tiny joy of that feeling. I would describe it to myself, how it felt good, what about it felt good. It didn't cure me, it didn't make me less depressed, but it was a little point of joy to focus on, to breathe into like a tiny candle flame in my darkness.

I would memorize that feeling, so that later, when i felt like nothing ever brought me joy anymore, i could think, no, that's your depression lying to you, you felt joy, however small, right there in the shower just yesterday. And, maybe there is more somewhere else.

Even today, it's been a hard week, i'm feeling a lot of hopeless and helpless feelings clamoring away at me, but... i have spicy soup. And spicy soup is a NEW joy. I found spicy soup joy as i was following any little light i could out of the deepest part of my depression.

I never put hot sauce in soup before then. But today i am drinking the broth of a very spicy soup and as much as everything else is complicated and difficult and scary and dark, there is a bright mote of joy in this sip of spicy soup. And in the next one. And the next. I enjoy it, i love it, all the more that it is new, and if i had given up four years ago, i never would have known this small joy, this new favorite tiny thing.

Who knows what other little joys i may find?

If you have come to a place in life where you have lost the knowledge of how to feel joy, it is important to remember that feeling joy is like anything else in life. The more you practice, the better you get, the more of it you can do at higher levels.

And there are only so many minutes in the day. The more of them you spend acknowledging what feels good, the less of them will be left for feeling bad.

you can't escape the darkness by fleeing from it, but you can find the light by moving toward it.

Chop Wood Fetch Water

Another thing i learned was a truth about the exercise advice you always hear.

For where i am in my recovery now, common exercise has very little impact. I don't really get the endorphins people talk about, and i don't tend to feel better about myself after i work out unless i already feel pretty okay about myself to begin with. i don't mean to say there is no point in me exercising, but, i walk about ten miles a day holding onto 8 energetic dogs and i do a fair amount of lifting and bending and stuff for my job, and it's fine but it's not, like, doing a whole lot for me at this point in my recovery (tho i do think more recreational exercise will come back into play a stage or two on in my healing process)

HOWEVER

There was a year there where i was only getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. When i was only able to force myself to eat just enough each day to stay alive because i'd made a promise to myself, and that promise was almost all i had left.

and the right kind of exercise is what pulled me out of that.

the RIGHT kind.

See, someone close to me needed help with a physical job. That was an important part and why this method is known historically as some variation of Chop Wood Carry Water -- it's intensely physical, which is important, but also, it helps the people around you. These days our personal communities tend to not need wood copped and water carried the same way. But you can get the same effect helping someone move all their furniture, doing all the yard work for your friends and/or family, volunteering for a charity that builds housing for homeless people, SOMEthing physically taxing that helps people.

In my case, my aging father needed help re-shingling the roof. So i promised i'd help.

So i got up every morning because he was expecting me. And i climbed the ladder because he would see me if i didn't. And i lifted and carried and hammered and worked hard. It took a week of six to eight hour days.

Right away, the fact that it was helping someone else made it not matter so much that it didn't feel like it was helping me at first. I couldn't deny that i was doing something good, that my existence had positive meaning, however small.

But very soon, it changed something fundamental in my state of depression. You can't do physical labor in the sun 7 hours a day without drinking a bunch of water. Without working up an appetite. Without getting very tired at the end of the day.

See, i had been struggling to make myself drink enough water, i was fighting to make myself eat even one small meal's worth of food each day, and i couldn't get a good night's sleep to save my life. And these things all made my depression much much worse. You think you get sad or angry from skipping a meal, consider being chronically undernourished. You think your mental state is worse after pulling an all nighter, think about what never getting a good night's sleep does.

But a couple days into this job with my father, and suddenly i was hydrated, i was eating full meals, and i was sleeping soundly at night.

THAT is what pulled me out of that deepest part of my depression.

So in a way, it was exercise that saved me. But not how people often say "have you tried exercising?" More like pushing myself physically to the point that my body demanded the things that previously i couldn't get it to want for itself.

Instead of forcing myself to eat i was craving food. Instead of staying up to all hours and then tossing and turning, i was physically exhausted and slept early and hard. (and, weirdly, being physically exhausted was somehow a relief from being emotionally/mentally exhausted)

Lastly

Healing often isn't noticeable while you're doing it

"healing is a process" is something you hear a lot, but i think it's more helpful to say something like

"Healing is like growing your hair out from short to long. You can look in the mirror every day and not notice it happening. And even when you can tell for sure it's longer than it was, you still can't really do anything with it, and it may seem pointless. But then one day you can tie it back in a ponytail and you realize how much it's grown and how many options are open to you now and you're really glad you stuck with it"

Now excuse me while i go meditate on the joys of my remaining spicy soup.

#long post #my life #idk maybe this will help someone #depression

[familyvideostevie]

a kind of hunger | chapter 1

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

joel miller walks into your life just as it starts to fall apart. surely some hot nights with the bar's newest regular can't hurt, right?

length: 9.2k

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, slightly painful sex, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, joel is a liiiiiiiitle mean if you squint, general feelings of loneliness and angst from r in her free time

a/n: huge thank you to @strangerfreaks without whom this would never have gotten off the ground. also to all the joel writers on this site, i love you, i am in awe of you. please allow me to give it a go myself <3

navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

__

The first time you sleep with Joel Miller you know it won't be the last. 

But that's not where this story starts. 

It starts in a bar. Nothing special about it, really. Staffed half by college kids who come and go, half by drifters who, for some reason, stopped drifting once they found this dimly lit, sticky-floored hole in the wall. Not quite a local institution but not forgettable, never totally empty. It's got pool tables and a jukebox but also clean bathrooms aside from the graffiti and two new-ish TVs showing whatever the first guy who gets there wants to watch.

Point is, you work there. One of those drifters who stopped drifting. The guy who owns it, some crotchety old fuck called Bill, rents you the apartment above the bar for a decent price considering it's loud until 2am on the weekends and midnight all the other days. Loud enough that even on nights you don't work it feels like you're there anyway. But you get used to it. It's called Frank's, which you don't totally understand, but you're not about to ask questions of the guy who has finally allowed you to slow down and take a breath who is also your boss and landlord.

You've worked there long enough to have learned the names and orders of all the regulars who've been coming in since long before you walked through the door and to have seen some new regulars enter the rotation. In truth, you've worked there long enough to basically be running the place. It's still the bar in your head, not your bar because getting attached will do you no good. This is how it always goes: you care too much but it never seems like anyone cares back. You cut and run before you can be disappointed and you’ve already been here longer than you’d expected to be because it’s something close to comfortable. 

Almost no one messes with you despite being younger than most of the clientele and on the off chance some frat boy from the city decides to take a cheap shot you've got a small army of imposing customers on your side. Between them and your coworkers, it's almost like you're not alone. 

Almost.

The hours you spend away from the bar are spent alone. You don't have many numbers in your phone and the ones you do you don't call. You go on drives in the shitty truck you bought off some guy when you moved here. You browse used bookstores and suffer the heat of the day on long walks and wonder if this is all there is. You think of what it might be like to feel something other than rootless.

One thing that helps is…sex. Being close to someone for even a little while, letting yourself be seen in a way that doesn’t require you to totally show your hand. You try not to make a habit of actually fucking your clientele. It can get messy quickly, guys coming in and expecting more than a good pour. Being offended when you don't give them a free round, don't make eyes at them over the oiled wood. It's easier to be alone, that much you've learned. It's easier and it's simpler and it means you've only got yourself to blame for the hurt you sometimes feel laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as some rock song thrums up through the floor. 

And if you do fuck someone from the bar, you keep it simple. You do, however, try really hard not to sleep with regulars. And no staying over. A classic, unspoken rule of sleeping with strangers that you rarely verbalize but make sure to enforce every time. It keeps things neat. The last thing you need is mess. Who knows how long you'll stay in this town, in this little apartment and this shitty bar. You've got a lot of years left, a lot of years you should probably spend in classrooms or an office or falling in love with some nice guy with a nice family who can give you a nice life. 

But you're here. 

And then, one day, so is Joel.

Being a good bartender is memorization, paying attention, and keeping a level head. You know how to make pretty much any drink even though your regulars are mostly the simple beer or Jack and Coke kind of people. You swear you can tell when a glass is going to fall a second before it shatters, spot a punch before it can be thrown. So you notice when a man you've never seen before walks through the door.

You notice how the energy of the room changes, how multiple pairs of eyes follow him as he settles at the end of the half-full bar. Dark hair shot through with grey, green shirt rolled up over chorded forearms that he rests on the wood. It feels like you should know him but you don't. You've never seen him before.

You finish pouring beers for some giggly girls before making your way over to him. His eyes track you.

You wonder what he'll order. A shot, maybe, based on the tense line of his shoulders. Or a dark beer. Maybe something strong. You hope he won't be one of those guys you have to peel off the bar in a few hours. "Can I get you something?"

"Whiskey, rocks," he says. You can hear the Texas drawl even from so few words. Deep, low, measured. "Cheapest you got."

For some reason, it feels like he's returning and you're the new one. "Wanna start a tab?"

"I'll do cash at the end," he says. Ah, one of those. Guy getting away from his wife, maybe. Tough day at work. Doesn't want to leave tracks. You can relate to that.

"Joel fuckin’ Miller," one of your regulars says as you turn to grab a glass. He claps the man -- Joel -- on the shoulder. "Heard you were back up this way," he says. "Good to see you, man."

Joel simply inclines his head once like he's not thrilled to be recognized. The dismissal is clear. And, weirdest of all, it works. You've seen insults hurled between friends for less.

You set his drink down, the amber liquid sloshing around the ice. 

"Thanks," he mutters. The dismissal is...less clear, but you've got other customers to tend to. And Joel doesn't seem particularly chatty.

Your eyes return to him for the next hour or so but he never waves you over for another round. Heat trails up and down your spine and you have to tell yourself that he's not watching you. That would be too optimistic, right? At one point you take a bathroom break and when you're back he's gone, wrinkled bills stacked under the glass. Enough for his drink and a decent tip. 

Joel comes in three more times over the next month before you sleep with him. Each time he orders the same drink, leaves the same tip. He sits alone at the bar, occasionally saying hello when someone approaches but no one ever sits next to him. He's gruff but only ever polite to you, doesn't get impatient when it takes you a minute to get to him. 

And he's really something to look at. The tick in his jaw, the veins in his neck. His skin is tanned, dotted with small scars that must come from a lifetime of hard work. He wears a watch and jeans that hug his ass in an almost indecent way, a way that has you watching him when he's not on a stool. Sometimes you catch him smirking to himself when there's some shit going on at the bar, gossip or people being loud for no reason. You wonder what his laugh sounds like and scold yourself for it. No harm in looking but there's the possibility of harm in thinking too much. You know better.

The third time he comes in is a bad night. It's busy for some reason and everyone is a fucking asshole. You weren't even supposed to work tonight but one of the seasonal kids had banged on your door begging you to come help, promising you all the tips for tonight if you did. You knew it would make you look good to Bill and despite yourself, you didn’t want to leave them hanging, so here you are, sweaty and pissed and smelling like beer, doing your best to empty the dishwasher in between drink orders and praying the keg doesn't need changing. 

You don't even notice when Joel comes in, only spotting him once he's managed to scare some college kid from a seat at the bar. For some reason, his presence makes you a little calmer in the chaos. 

"Be with you in a sec, Joel," you say to him when you're near. You don't call him by his name since he never actually introduced himself to you but it slips out in the rush. His nostrils flare but you don't have time to linger on it even as you feel the hot weight of his gaze. 

"No rush."

You manage to get him what you know by now to be his usual only to be called over by your least favorite customer of the night as soon as he's thanked you. 

"Honey," the asshole says. This fucker's name is Seth and he's a pain in your ass. "Gimme another, will you? Make it a heavy pour." This would be his fifth and he's already slurring his words. 

"Don't think so," you tell him firmly. "I'm cutting you off for tonight, Seth." He's liable to start some shit or at the very least throw up on the floor and you don't want to deal with either. You don't have time to deal with either. 

His bloodshot eyes narrow and he slams a fist on the bar. You manage not to flinch, though pretty much everyone else does. "That's not good fucking service, sweetcheeks," he leers. 

"Good thing I don't give a fuck," you snap. "Get the fuck out of here before you do something you regret, sweetcheeks.” The venom in your tone seems to surprise him before sheer rage takes over. You've thrown out plenty of assholes in your time here but it's not always a smooth experience.

Seth leans forward over the bar, reaches for you -- to do what, you have no idea -- and you prepare yourself to yell for backup and then kick him out for good and maybe get a punch in as he goes. His fingers manage to hook in your shirtsleeve before a hand closes around his wrist.

Before Seth can scream he's got his outstretched arm behind his back, face twisted in pain. Behind him is --

Joel?

The bar is almost silent. You can hear a few whispers over the blood pumping in your ears. 

"I'd get out of here if I were you," Joel hisses. He glances at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Are you okay? he seems to be asking. You nod. 

Seth whimpers. "Let me go," he says weakly. 

"Just gonna show you the door." Joel all but drags him through the parting crowd. 

"Jesus," someone says behind you. One of the seasonal kids. "You okay?"

"I'm taking my break." You leave the kid behind the bar to fend for himself and barrel into the back and through the side door into the alley where you always take your 15. It's one of those weird cold fall nights, just the wrong side of chilly to be here without a jacket but you left it in the bar office.

The milk carton you sit on has been turned over so you kick it back with a thud and slump down onto it. The light above the door flickers. "This shit is getting old," you say to no one. You kick aside cigarette butts that aren't yours and wonder how long you can do this. What would be next, anyway? You've got a laundry list of failed dreams and no one wondering if you're going to make something of yourself. Long nights at a bar you care about more than you should and rowdy customers and handsome men who barely say a word to you can't last forever, can it? Would anyone here even notice if you left?

The door flies open, startling you out of your thoughts. 

Joel steps into the alley. Somehow he manages to yet again look like he was meant to be here and you're the one who is out of place. You blink at him and he stares back like he wasn't sure he'd find you here.

"Got lost?" you ask. "Pretty sure you know where the front door is."

He lets the metal door swing shut and crosses his arms. "Was lookin' for you."

That catches you by surprise. "Why?"

Joel shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders. His expression doesn't budge. "Sorry for makin' trouble."

Oh, right. Seth. You wave him off. "Just another night," you say. "I'd have handled it." You stand from the crate and lean against the brick wall. It's true. Seth isn't the first asshole you've handled.

"I bet you would've," Joel mutters. He takes one step closer. You're reminded all at once how good-looking he is, how you've wondered what his hands would feel like on your skin. There's no way he's ever thought of you, right? You're just some girl who pours him drinks, too young and too forgettable. He was just having a man moment, wanting to save the day or some shit like that. 

"I don't have a cigarette or anything if you want to smoke," you say. This close he doesn't smell like tobacco but you don't know what else to say. "Sorry."

"So you just sit in alleys on your break for fun?"

"I like this alley," you say, suddenly a bit defensive. "It's a nice alley." You take a step towards him. He uncrosses his arms and his hands flex at his sides. You shiver. "No one bothers me out here."

Joel tilts his head to the side. "That so?" His eyes are dark under the dim light. When did he get so close? When did your face get so hot?

"Except guys who drink whiskey on the rocks, I guess," you say. It comes out much softer than you'd like, your voice cracking. The air doesn't have the same bite as it did seconds ago. Joel's expression hovers between something you recognize and something you don't, something you desperately want to figure out. "Good thing I don't mind." The adrenaline from the small altercation hasn't left and the swirl of emotions about your whole shitty life has you on edge, has you wanting to play with fire.

You're so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat of him in the still night. Joel's eyes rake over your face, looking for something, something you try very hard to show him so that he might fucking do it, meet the want that is suddenly uncontrollable halfway, or at least tell you if he's not interested so you can --

Your name is a groan in his throat and then he's kissing you. His palm cups the back of your head as he presses you into the wall, his other hand firm on your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt hard enough to bruise. He tastes like the whiskey you served him. You fist one hand in his collar and wind the other into his hair.

Joel controls the kiss but you give as good as you get. He licks into your mouth and you suck on his lower lip. His beard rubs against your face in a delicious burn and when you tug on his hair he makes a noise you must hear again. The brick behind you scrapes a bit but you hardly notice when he presses against you, slides a thigh between your legs and you feel him hard through his jeans. 

"S'not right, you lookin' so good yellin' at that asshole," he grumbles into your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. You cant your hips and he hisses.

"Speak for yourself," you manage. "Always got your eyes on me, don't you?" It feels like a risk to call him on it. Control of the situation is slipping from your grasp, this man who you never thought would actually touch you now holding you in his arms, his lips on your skin. He pulls back from your neck and smirks, eyes dark. 

"'Spose I do." 

You can work with that. You surge forward to kiss him again and this time he lets you call the shots while still meeting your bruising caresses with his own.

"Joel." You tug on his hair.

He makes that noise again.

It might be five minutes, it might be an hour. You have no idea. All you know is you can still feel his cock through the denim and you're so turned on you might combust in this alley. Or at the very least let him fuck you in it.

"I don't close tonight," you pant. One of Joel's hands has worked its way into your back pocket and the other has rucked up your shirt to rest on your bare back. 

"What?" he growls.

"My shift. I'm off at 11." You tap his watch. He glances at it and sees it read 10:30. "Half hour. I live upstairs."

For a second you think he'll say no. Walk away with a nod of his head and out of your life forever. Wouldn't be the first, wouldn't be the last. You're already breaking one of your rules by even considering sleeping with him but there's just something about him. The way he looks at you, the way his hands feel on your skin. You want to know what he'll feel like inside you. Maybe you’re still in this town because you were waiting for him to walk through the door.

"Alright," he says. He clears his throat and releases you. You fuss with your hair and straighten your shirt and he adjusts himself in his jeans. "Half hour." His dark eyes narrow as he glances down the alley back towards the street. 

"Take a walk around the block or something," you tell him, swallowing the urge to laugh at him so handsome and disheveled from your hands. Never in a million years would you have predicted that tonight would go this way. "My door is on the other side of the building. I'll let you up."

The urge to flatten the damage your hands did to his hair is so overwhelming for a second that you step away from him towards the door. His eyes follow you, expression unreadable. How many nights would it take for you to know what he's thinking? Careful, you think, or you'll be tempted to find out. 

Joel watches you until you give him a little wave and slip back into the bar. The metal door clangs shut behind you and you lean against it, knees still wobbly. Is this actually happening? Are you really this overwhelmed by making out with some guy in an alley? You check the clock on the wall and curse. Your break ended ten minutes ago though since no one came looking for you it's probably no big deal. Being mostly in charge has its perks.

The bar is a little less crowded than when you left so you grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. Joel's seat is empty, his glass gone. 

"Oh, hey," the seasonal kid says. "That guy, uh, Joel? He said to make sure you get this." He pulls out Joel's usual tip from his apron and holds it out to you.

Considering you're planning to go upstairs and fuck him until you can't walk, you don't feel like taking his tip tonight. "It's yours," you say. "Thanks for handling everything while I was out back." The kid blinks at you but knows better than to refuse, pocketing the cash and going back to loading the dishwasher. 

You finish your shift. Your blood feels electric, your skin hot. Can anyone in this bar tell what happened in the alley? You haven't felt this way about a hookup in ages. Like you were wanted, not just convenient. It's just one night, right? Maybe he'll never come to the bar again, which makes your chest tighten for a second. Maybe you're about to ruin something you don't totally understand. But you haven't gotten this far in life by worrying about shit like that, so you clock out and wave goodbye and make your way to the other side of the building. 

Joel isn't there. You unlock the door to the stairwell so you can at least wait for him inside when you hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel under boots. You fist your key between your knuckles just in case but before you can turn around you hear your name in that Texas drawl. 

"Just me," he says. You don't know if Joel Miller is capable of looking nervous but this is probably close. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets. A thrill runs up your spine. Are you really doing this? Are you really about to bring this man up to your apartment and hope to god he does whatever you want to you? 

"Come on up." Yes. Yes, you are. You give him a smile and he follows you up to the landing. 

"S'loud," he mutters once you shut the door. The bar's music wasn't that loud when you were in it and up here it's a dull hum, people's voices and laughter slipping through the cracks like a TV left on a little too high in the other room. These days it's background noise to you but you figure Joel lives in a house somewhere with lots of land and open windows and silence. He seems like the type to like silence. 

Jacket on the hook, shoes clumsily thrown on the mat, keys in the dish. Your normal routine except there’s a man in your living room, too. He looks around the space, hands still in his pockets. You try not to be self-conscious about your place. It's small, sure, the bedroom visible through the currently open French doors in the small living room. Your kitchen is tiny, bathroom tinier, but it's all yours. "You get used to it," you say. "I hardly mind it anymore."

"Didn't say I did," he says. You both stand there for a few moments before Joel takes two big steps and crowds you against the door, one hand on your hip and the other next to your head. "Means they won't hear us." You swallow a gasp as he drags his nose along the curve of your jaw, breath hot on your skin. You were going to ask him if you could shower first since you undoubtedly smell like sweat and beer but clearly, he doesn't mind. His tongue darts out and he sucks on your pulse point, your own hands clutching desperately at his shirt. If he moves you're sure you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. "Means you can be as loud as you want," he growls. "That sound good?"

Any breath remaining in your body rushes out and you jerk your hips to make contact with the hardness in his jeans. "Yeah," you gasp. You can feel something like a smile against your neck. "That sounds good."

It's a dynamic you don't mind stepping into -- whatever this is. Every second of your life you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone around you to get tired. Your eyes are always on the exit, always wondering where you'll go next, what you'll leave behind this time. Even when you're fucking strangers you're always wondering how you'll get them to leave. You’re better off alone. But right here, right now, with Joel's heavy scent of sawdust and whiskey and something earthy, something grounding, in your nostrils, his hands and his mouth on you, nothing else matters. Your brain shuts off and you're just here.

You grab Joel's jaw and guide his lips back to yours. He allows it and you moan deep in your throat as he tongues back into your mouth, your own trying to give as good as you're getting. He pops the button on your jeans and you help him with frantic hands, shoving them down your hips along with your underwear so he can ghost his fingers through your coarse curls. He pulls back from the kiss to watch as he drags two fingers through your folds. Your eyes lock and he smirks as your lids flutter.

"Soaked," is all he says. You tip your head forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't be smug."

He huffs. "I ain't trying to sound like an asshole, but --"

"Already failed." He nips at your earlobe.

"Gotta work you open a bit, sweetheart," he says. His fingers circle your clit once, ever so slowly. Your grip on his bicep tightens and you wonder if you'll leave bruises. You hope so. "Gonna be a tight fit."

"Heard -- fuck -- that before," you gasp. Joel really fucking knows what he's doing. "I -- bed?"

"Smart girl," he says. You're pretty sure you get wetter. He pulls his fingers free but keeps a hold on your hip like he knows your knees are jelly. "Sit on the edge." 

You leave your jeans and underwear behind and make your way to the bed through the French doors, sitting heavily on the quilt, knees bent and leaning on your hands behind you. Before you can say another word, Joel lowers to his knees between yours. He pries them apart even further and runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

For a few seconds, you can't find the words. This man, older than you and impossibly handsome, face lined with years he's lived and hands callused with work he's done, this man that you hardly know anything about but can't get out of your mind, is on his knees before you.

"You gonna be okay down there?" is what you come up with.

"You always talk this much?" he mutters, though his mouth tugs up at the corner. Joel's forearms wrap around your legs and he tugs. You fall flat on your back in surprise and your ass almost hangs off the bed. He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and kneads the flesh of your thigh, eyes dark and jaw twitching as he spreads you open and just looks. "Might have to help me up but I think I'll be just fine."

"Joel --" 

The end of his name becomes a high-pitched moan when he leans in and buries his face in your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down through your folds, nose catching your clit in a way that makes you squirm. His beard scrapes against your skin deliciously, leaving a sting that you know you'll be able to see evidence of when he's done. He laps at you before finally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking like his life depends on it. It's only his hand on your outstretched thigh keeping you from suffocating him between your legs, though you're not sure he'd mind.

"Should be a crime," he says. You look down the length of your body at him. His chin is wet with you, eyes meeting yours when he feels your stare. "Cunt this pretty tastin' so good."

How do you reply to that?

He's back at it before you can even try. Joel gets messy with it, the sounds of his attention loud and filthy. He tells you how wet you are, how good you taste, and your eyes flutter shut again.

"How're we doing?" 

"Don't stop," you manage. "Just, don't stop--"

He prods your entrance with one finger. "Reckon you can take it, hmm? You're so wet it'll be easy." There's a bite to his tone, a sense of amusement mixed with awe like he can hardly believe it either. 

"Two," you gasp. "I can take two." You need two, in fact. His hands are one of the few parts of him you've been able to study and you know his fingers are long, much thicker than yours and you need them to fill you up, need them to stretch you out. You need something to clench around because right now you feel like you're on the edge of the pleasure building in your core and if you don't get a release soon you'll just…just…combust. 

Joel hums but you feel a second finger nudge into you. He slides them in and curls them as he goes. Your back arches off the bed.

"Dunno," he coos. "Pretty tight, sweetheart." The slight meanness to his words is in complete contrast with the gentle, attentive way he handles you. Who knew he'd be such a fucking tease.

"Well get to work, then." He scissors the digits inside of you in reply and returns to sucking on your clit. You reach down and bury your hand in his silver-streaked hair, tugging a bit harder than you intend to. Joel just moans into your cunt, the vibration making it feel like your very pelvis is rattling as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 

Sweat beads on your brow as you try to hold on. He picks up the pace and presses into your walls with his fingertips like he's looking for something. His tongue wreaks havoc on the rest of you, sucking bruises into your inner thighs when he's not abusing your clit. If this is just the foreplay you don't know how you'll survive actually fucking him. And he hasn't even asked you to touch him, hasn't shown even a hint of expectation. He's doing this to get you ready but based on the blown state of his pupils he's enjoying it almost as much as you are. 

"Getting close?" he asks, breath ragged. Your skin is starting to feel deliciously raw from his beard and the hook in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter. 

"Yes -- fuck -- I'm close, Joel, keep --"

His hand moves faster than before and he latches back onto your clit. Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm coming, it's just right there, you just need him to --

His fingers find the spot he must have been looking for and your only warning is a sharp tug on his hair and then your back arches and you come all over his face. He fingers fucks you through it and you feel it as your walls clench around him, your mouth open in a high whine as your muscles finally relax and you flop back onto the bed. Joel keeps his face in your cunt, gently lapping at your release while avoiding your sensitive clit. You push his hair back from his face and try to get your breathing under control.

He manages to get up on his own with a grunt as you pant on the bed. "Okay?" he asks. "Lookin' a little tired." You show him your middle finger and he...laughs, lips shiny with your slick. So he can laugh. 

"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" you ask him. His eyes travel slowly over your bare bottom half, the redness of your thighs from his beard and the way your shirt has rucked up to the wire of your bra. 

"Nah." He sits heavily on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and socks. You want to ask him if you can undress him, slowly peel off his layers button by button and explore every inch of him but you won't be able to take it if he says no so you just watch. Already you know you'll be thinking about this night for a long fucking time. The way it seems like he cares about how you're feeling, how he wants to take his time with you, how he enjoys your pleasure. It's nice. It's...making you feel wanted.

His denim button-up is tossed on the floor and he stands, shirtless, to undo his belt. The forearms and small triangle at his throat that you've been treated with thus far when he sits at the bar in no way prepared you for the rest of him. Broad shoulders, thick, muscled arms from years of hard work. Graying chest hair that travels all the way down the slight softness of his belly and in a darker trail his jeans. Your mouth waters. 

"You're starin'," he says softly before unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down in one motion. 

"Taste of your own medicine." The words come out with much less bite than you intended as his cock springs free. 

Well, he wasn't lying. He is big. You knew he would be based on what you felt through his pants, but seeing it is something else. 

You sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to be closer. Is he really going to fit? He's bigger than anyone you've fucked before, that's for sure. A ruddy color, a little darker than his tanned chest, the tip a little lighter and already leaking. A few veins run the length of him and the hair at the base of his shaft is clearly taken care of though a little wild and a shade of deep brown that hasn't grayed much yet. His balls hang heavy, one slightly bigger than the other. He twitches under your gaze. You look up at him and wait for him to call out your staring again but instead, he's just watching you, pupils blown. 

"You are...so beautiful," you breathe. He makes a dismissive noise but a flush travels up his chest and to his face. It's true. There's something about him that makes you think you could look every second for the rest of your life and not get enough.

"Should be sayin' that to you." He strokes himself once and you lick your lips. "You got a condom? Should be one in my pocket if you don't." Does he always carry one? Or did he hope to get lucky with you, just like you've been thinking about him?

"Bedside table drawer." He goes for it and you remember too late that the drawer has...other things in it, too. His eyebrows raise and he eyes your small collection of toys but says nothing, though his cock twitches again. If you asked, would he use them on you? He seems like the type to be into that. But right now you need him inside you so badly you might combust.

"Can I?" He pauses before handing the foil square to you. You take him in hand and stroke him from root to tip. He makes a noise low in his throat and you lean in to trace the vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue. His hips twitch forward just a bit like he's trying to keep control and failing. You know the feeling. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the slightest bit salty. You kind of lose the plot for a second, thoughts of him fucking you fading with the desire to make him feel good like this, to blow him until he's moaning your name like you were moaning his.

Joel slides his fingers into your hair and you manage to take him about halfway before he tugs gently. "I'm not complainin'," he says, voice tight. "'Specially when you look so damn pretty like this. But I've been hard as a fuckin' rock for an hour and I ain't as young as I used to be, so..." He trails off.

You place a dainty kiss on his tip and pat his hip. "Another time," you say, realizing too late what you've implied, but Joel just smirks. You tear open the foil and slide the condom on as gingerly as you can but he still hisses your name like he's scolding you, that hand in your hair pulling once again just a little. You feel the arousal pooling in your gut, sticky between your thighs. 

He tugs on the collar of your shirt. "Off," he says. You're quick to obey, whipping it to a corner of your apartment along with your bra. Joel just looks for a second before reaching a calloused hand to palm one breast, thumb sliding over your nipple. "Look at you," he says, breathy, with a squeeze. "Christ."

"You gonna fuck me, Joel Miller?" You blink up at him. He swallows visibly, throat bobbing before that smirk is back. 

"Only ‘cause you asked so nicely." 

You scramble back up the bed on your hands and knees, leaning down on your elbows and presenting him with your bare cunt. "Cause I'm such a lady."

"That so?" he murmurs. He drags his fingers through your folds slowly, brows furrowed. You fist your hands in the sheets. "You want it like this?" he asks. He palms your hip, traces the curve of your ass and presses his fingertips into your skin. You wiggle at him a little. Most guys you hook up with want it like this. You don't mind being fucked from behind, don't mind being able to close your eyes with your face shoved in the sheets and just feel. God knows with a dick his size you'll be feeling it regardless of the position you're in. But part of you does want to look at Joel, to watch him, his expression, his handsome, rugged face. Feel his arms around you, feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he fucks you. See what his eyes look like when he comes. But this is enough.

"Do I need to say please?"

The head of his cock presses against your entrance in reply. You crane your neck to see as much of him as you can. He's focused on your ass with a light frown, hands resting on your hips.

"Gonna go slow," he grumbles. His gaze meets yours. "For my benefit as much as yours."

Words don't come. You're breathless and dripping, desperate for him to just get on with it. 

"Joel, are you gonna just stand there --"

He slowly, torturously slowly, starts to slide into you. The stretch is immediate, has you face down in the sheets, eyes fluttering. Each inch of painful stretch fades quickly to throbbing pleasure, a fullness that has you keening. 

You press your hips back into him but his fingers grip tighter, holding you in place. "What did I say?" he grits out. 

"Feels so good, so big," you babble. There's nothing left in your brain, your body, but this. But Joel. You have to have all of him. "I can take it, I can take your cock, I --"

"Got quite the mouth on you, huh?" he says. He keeps pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch. "Okay?" he pants. "Look at me, tell me it feels good --"

You crane your neck again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and look at him. His own are lidded, mouth open in an "o" like he can hardly believe it himself. A flush runs down his chest and if you didn't know better you'd say he's trembling.

"Yes, I -- god, Joel, keep going, please --"

"Doin' good, sweetheart," he coos. His hand strokes up and down your spine. "Almost there. Almost takin' all of me."

He bottoms out and you see stars. You feel lips on your back, the warm puffs of his breath on your skin as he waits for you. It's a fine line between pain and pleasure and you're walking the tightrope but the stretch is delicious. You can feel every inch of him. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you shift your hips a little, loving it when Joel moans.

"Alright," you manage. "Move, please." His fingertips are back on your hips and give you a squeeze before he starts to drag his cock out of you. The tip of him catches the spot inside of you that makes your back arch as he pulls out and then again when he thrusts in. 

"All that work, my fingers and my tongue and you're still so fuckin' tight. Christ."

The only thing you manage to say is a litany of his name.

"Lemme hear it, baby," he grinds out. Baby. "Be so loud those fuckers downstairs hear you--"

You meet his thrusts as best you can and even though it feels so good, even though you're so full, it's not bringing you to the edge like you need. Your neck is starting to hurt from the way you're twisting to see him, your fingers gripping the sheets as hard as you can because you want to be touching him instead. But this is good, this works, maybe if you touch your clit, you'll --

You reach between your legs and Joel pulls out. You get off your elbows and turn around, almost gasping at the loss of him. "Is something wrong?"

He's frowning at you. "Should be askin' you that."

You don't know what to say. Your cunt throbs a little from being empty, the ache settling in now that he's not there to literally fuck it away. "What?"

"You stopped makin' those noises," he says softly. “The ones you were makin’ before.” You turn around and sit facing him, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Ain't gonna fuck you in a position you don't like."

"I --" You try to fight through the haze of your brain for words. "I liked it fine."

Joel waits. He just stands there at the edge of the bed and waits. 

"Maybe..." you try again. "Would on my back be okay for you?"

His eyebrows raise like he can't believe you'd think otherwise. "That'll work for me," he says slowly. "Grab a pillow." You shift back on the bed as he kneels on it, positioning himself between your legs. You hand him one of your pillows and he taps your hip. "Up." You obey and he slides it under you so your lower half is lifted a bit before he presses one leg to the side, spreading you open. He slowly bends the other so that your thigh is pressed against your torso in a deep stretch without being painful. You feel bare, exposed in a way he somehow hasn't yet achieved. 

Joel fixes his gaze on your face. "Let's try that." He strokes himself once and then leans over you, bracing himself on one hand near your head. He lines up to press his cock into you again. Faster than last time, you wince a little but you dig your fingertips into his back to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out and you immediately feel the difference, eyes fluttering shut. Before it was like he was plowing into you, like you were so full you could hardly handle it. But like this it's like he's melting into you, like there is no space between you anymore. You're full but it's not so harsh. You don’t know where you end and he begins.

"That better?" he croaks. You force yourself to look at him and find his face closer, closer than you thought he'd get, breath warm on your face. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes search your face. This close you can see they’re grey, the lines at the corners deep with strain. Even like this, stuffed full of his cock, you could look at him all day.

"Move, Joel," you tell him. He takes that for a yes and starts at a punishing pace. You have no idea how he's kept it together this long, considering you've felt on the edge of another orgasm this entire time. You anchor your arms on his shoulders as his thrusts make you see stars. 

"Ask for what you want, you hear me?" His balls smack loudly against you and he presses his lips to your ear. "You ask and I'll do my damn best."

You don't know what it is -- the overwhelming sensation of his cock dragging in and out at this angle, how close he is, his words -- but you feel tears at the corners of your eyes again. You nod frantically, hands grasping for purchase on his back. 

"C'mon," Joel says. "Gotta use that mouth, sweetheart."

"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, Joel, yes --"

"Fuckin' perfect for me," he moans. His lips trail up your cheek, tongue catching your tears before he presses them to yours in a messy kiss that's more teeth and breath than anything else. 

"Joel, Joel, Joel --"

"Gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock like you did my face?"

Your orgasm comes like the snap of a rubber band. You hold him as tight as you can as it washes through you, the waves almost painful as he keeps fucking you fast and hard, your name a series of broken sounds from his mouth until his hips stutter and he groans deep in his chest. You try to keep your eyes on him as you come down from your high and are rewarded with the scrunch of his brow and the slight part of his lips as he comes. Beautiful, you think. 

The room is all of sudden much quieter without the sounds of your fucking. It's just the dull sounds of Frank's through the floor and your combined panting as he pulls out of you and flops on the bed beside you. You wince this time, the soreness really settling in. Joel finds your hand and kisses the back of it in a move so unexpectedly tender you can't look at him, raw as you are already. The bed shifts and you figure he's throwing out the condom. 

"You okay?" he says. You open your eyes and find him standing at the edge, looking at you. He's holding your robe from the bathroom. You stretch and let him look. 

"Yeah," you reply. You give him a smile as you scoot to the edge and wrap yourself in it when he holds it out. "Thank you." Joel grunts. 

You go to the bathroom yourself to pee and see the damage. Hair a mess, your mascara gathered around your eyes like you've been working hard. You've got hickies forming on your neck and chest, the skin rubbed a bit raw from his beard around your mouth. You love how you look right now. 

You look like you got fucked well. And you did. 

But now you want a shower and a snack and to go to bed. 

You half expect Joel to be gone when you go back into the bedroom. You remember belatedly that you don't let hookups stay the night. Will he leave if you ask him to? If he's already left then you don't need to worry about it. A small part of you worries you won’t ask him to go.

Instead, he's sitting on the edge of your bed putting his boots on. His shirt is unbuttoned but other than that he's dressed. He looks up briefly. His own hair is going in a thousand different directions and if this wasn't a one-night stand you'd fix it for him, a hand pushing it back like you did when he was between your thighs. But things are different outside the heat of the moment. 

"You want some water or anything?" you ask instead.

He shakes his head and finishes his boot, stands and buttons his shirt. "Nah," he says. "Should just head out."

You wonder belatedly if there's anyone at home missing him. Maybe he's got a wife. Maybe he's got a life that he's running away from and into your arms. 

"Bar'll be closed by now, or as good as," you say. You spy his jacket by the door and bend to pick it up. "No one'll see you."

Joel's face does something funny that you don't quite know how to read. He takes his jacket from you and shrugs it on. "Alright," he says. 

He looks awkward in a way you didn't know he could so you throw him a line. "Thanks," you say. For fucking me. For listening to me. For making me feel good. "It was fun. See you around?"

His expression softens. He steps close and gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you once, firmly but chastely compared to what you were doing before. 

"See you around," he says. And then he opens the door and disappears down the stairs. 

You hear the outer door close and only then do you let out a breath. Your entire body feels like you just spent hours at the gym. But your mind? It's going a thousand miles an hour. You don't know what to think about first -- how Joel looked, how he spoke to you, how his hands felt. How he implored you to ask for what you wanted, how he made you feel good because it made him feel good. How you desperately, desperately want to see him again, to know him in every possible way. How you want him to walk back up the stairs and hold you until you fall asleep.

And that's not how you expected to feel. It's not how you should feel after a one-night stand with a guy you serve a few times a week at your place of employment. Like he saw right to the core of you, like he gave you something you didn't know you needed. 

You need to get a hold of yourself. This is how it starts -- this is how you get hurt. You care. Well, you always care, but no one has to know that. You let someone care about you. Not that Joel does, but he could. 

But isn't that the one thing you want most of all? 

You sleep in the next day. There's not much that needs to be done at Frank's besides bookkeeping and inventory which doesn't take you long. When you finally make it downstairs, three Advil popped to ease the soreness of your entire body, you're surprised to find Bill himself sitting at the bar. 

He looks just as you remember, hair a little longer and a little grayer. Shit kickers and jeans, a hunting jacket and trucker hat. You'll bet his actual truck is parked around back where no one from the road can see it. 

"Uh, hi?" Bill hasn't come around for at least a year, which is making your stomach sink a little. The last time was when there was a fire because some dumbass tried to smoke inside and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to quit on him for having to throw water on the nasty curtains. 

"Heard about Seth," he says. Always right to the point, this guy. He's drinking what looks to be Coke with a lemon. "Sit." You do as he says. So much for bookkeeping.

"Yep," you say. You have no idea where he heard it and know better than to ask. "No big deal."

"I want to retire."

What? "Do you...work here?" Bill appreciates honesty and he's the kind of asshole that respects you if you're an asshole back. 

"No," he says. "But I own the fuckin' dump. And me and Frank want to retire."

"There's a Frank?"

"My partner, dumbass. Keep up."

You were already groggy and still muddled from last night but this is forcing you to bring everything into sharp focus. Bill wants to retire. Which means he wants to...

"So my options are to sell this dump or find someone to take it."

If he sells the bar you're shit out of luck. No way another owner would let you live upstairs the way you do for next to nothing and let you work here and run the show. This is...a lot to take in.

"Are you listening to me?" Bill says. You blink a few times. 

"No," you admit. "Can you say that again?"

He sighs. "Do you want it?"

"The bar?" you ask incredulously. 

"No, idiot, the dumpster out back. Yes, the bar." He raps his knuckles on the bar top. "You could keep everything the same. It's just paperwork, really. I'll just give it to you. God knows a young person like you could make it nicer, turn a better profit." He says it like it's an insult. 

"Are you fucking serious?" This goes against most every rule you've had for yourself for the last who knows how long. Don't get attached, keep moving. No one really needs you so you can disappear whenever. You haven't gotten bored yet, haven't gotten restless, but you know it'll happen. There's no way you can do this forever. But owning a bar? That would make you stay. You'd have no out. You’d have to let yourself be seen, let yourself be needed. You’d have to commit. You’d have to not fuck it up.

"Why not?" he shrugs. "I know you said it was temporary back when you moved in, but you practically run it."

He's right. Everything is temporary for you. But would sticking around be so bad? Would trying to actually make a life for yourself, have a home base, a thing you care about be the end of the world? And then there's Joel...No. Not going there. 

"I..."

"Either you take it or I shut it down." Bill gets off his stool and looks around. "No one cares enough about it to try to sell it."

"Then why me?"

"Do you care about it?" he asks. His piercing stare pins you to your stool, compels you to be honest with him where you're rarely honest with yourself. 

"Yeah," you say. "I do."

"Then there's you're fuckin' answer. I know you do. You clean the shit out of this place and train the seasonal dipshits and learn the names of the fuckin’ drunks and live upstairs and make this a good place for good people to come. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice." It's possibly the most words Bill has ever said to you in a row. 

"Can I...think about it?"

He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Not too long, though. Gotta decide by the end of the year. Maybe earlier."

That gives you three months, give or take. To figure out what the fuck you're going to do.

With one conversation Bill has shattered your entire life here. Now there’s actually a timer on it, this little piece you’ve carved out and started to enjoy. Could you make it a real thing? Could you finally admit to yourself that this is what you want – to be wanted? To be needed? To have something that’s yours?

The bar door shuts and you realize Bill has left you alone with your thoughts. You shift in your stool and a wave of soreness rolls through you from your core. 

You thunk your forehead on the bar. “Fuck me,” you say to the empty room. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

[ghouljams]

Medievall au Konig…

King of a neighboring kingdom, who is declaring war. The king and queen, parents of Ghost’s princess, offer her hand in marriage as a peace offering. inviting him over to shortly court/get to know the princess, but falls in love with her lady in waiting? (or any type of servant/help type worker)

God this is dangerously close to my cursed king König from my novel and I am for REAL holding myself back here. This isn't going to be König's new medieval au, but I wanna see Ghost sweat and I love causing the princess pain. So I’m using my cursed König here, because I love him, and also because he’s just a little fucked up, and also also because he is just... incapable of loving the princess lmao

You hate this.

Your maids have spent all day preparing you to meet a man that could become your husband. A king. You pout as they scrub you with perfumed soaps, rubbing scented oils into your skin and hair until every nook and crevice if you is soft and sweet. It's truly the most extensive bath you've ever had, and all you can think of is how badly you don't want it to end. The same with your makeup and your hair, all the primping and poking takes far longer than you would've liked, and yet far shorter than you need. It's miserable, and your maids are too chatty, too excited. They don't leave you alone long enough to cry.

Your parents, well your mother, have planned a rather elaborate dinner to introduce you and the neighboring King. You desperately want to kick and scream, throw things and make a mess until someone takes notice of your misery and puts a stop to it. Your maids tighten the strings of your dress, fix your necklace until it sits just right on your chest, spritz you with perfume, and tip your tiara until it catches the light with the sparkle of tears in your eyes.

"You look beautiful m'lady," your lady in waiting smiles, squeezing your shoulders tight in an approximation of a hug. It's not a comfort. You feel like a horse being trussed up for the market. You say nothing, you think she gets the idea. She's always been a good friend to you. "Maybe he'll be terribly rude and ugly, and the King will kick him out before the meal is over," she suggests.

"One can only hope," you mumble.

Ghost isn’t waiting for you outside your quarters door. Your eyes dart around the hallway, past the knight that offers you an introduction. He should be here, why isn’t he here? He wouldn’t leave you if something important didn’t come up, something must have happened. You turn to your maid, confusion stealing away your anxiety for the moment. 

“Where’s Ghost?” You ask her. You hardly have a spare moment to feel sorry you’ve ignored this poor knight who you’re sure is his stand-in.

“Orders of the King,” The knight tells you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”

Your heart falls. They’re really serious about this. You wonder if your mother put up a fight, if she was the one to suggest it. It feels like a betrayal of the highest order to look at this knight and tell him.

“I’ll be in your care.”

When all you want to do is throw a royal fit and tell him to get Ghost or get out. You suppose you could. You could go back into your room and send word you won’t be attending anything. Be a true royal brat. You shudder to think what would become of you if you did. Without Ghost to protect you, there’s no telling how quickly you’d be dragged from your quarters. Placed in front of your royal guest kicking and screaming, what a first impression that would be.

It feels like a funeral procession walking down the hall towards the formal dining room. Your feet hardly want to carry you, but you can’t run with an unfamiliar knight at your heel. For all you know he’d chase you down under your parents orders. That was the one thing you never had to worry about with Ghost, perhaps you took it for granted how loyal he was to you and only you.

You stop in front of the heavy wood doors. You don’t even get a moment to collect yourself, barely get a squeeze of your hand from your lady-in-waiting before the guards on either side open them. Immediately your worry over Ghost is replaced by anxiety for yourself.

The doors open, the guests at the table stand, and you look up, up, up, at the man you assume is your neighbor King. The height of him, the sheer mass of musculature and masculinity frighten you. You thought Ghost was tall, does this fucker come from a land of giants? The King tips his head to you, and you dip into a low curtsy. As well trained as ever.

"König," your father smiles, a ringing rising in your ears as König stares you down, "this is our daughter, Princess-" You wish you could say he at least seems interested in you. He doesn't. His eyes look bored at best and disdainful at worst. You wish you could say more but the lower half of his face is masked. You'd wonder what that was about, if you weren't so terrified that this man was going to take you away, he doesn't even seem to want you.

The man, König, has an air of violence to him, madness almost. An air you find infecting your mind even as you walk to your seat. The proximity to him doesn’t help the feeling that if any man would be the hand in your death it would be him. You can hardly imagine what a marriage to him would entail. How cruel could he be, when you couldn’t even sense a spark of warmth from him.

You knight pulls a chair out for you, and you sit, moving on pure instinct. König's eyes slide off of you to touch your maid as she leans to speak to you. You barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, your breath coming short as you stare at your place setting. Did you leave your heart in your room? It feels like you must have, you hardly think it's beating.

You feel like every muscle in your body is pulled taught, tightening to keep your skeleton from shaking. You can’t think against the rising wave of dread that settles over your mind. Your vision is so fuzzy, and the crown on your head is impossibly heavy. The weight of awful responsibility. An animal raised for slaughter, that’s all you are, all you’ll ever amount to. Another bargaining chip in your parent’s pocket to be thrown on the table in front of any unwed king they find important enough.

This is worse than an interview with a nobel. There’s no need for a formal meeting between you and a king. If he likes the look of you he can take you. There’s nothing more that needs to happen to make you his. A wedding is a formality. You’re sure that giant of a man has never heard ‘no’ in his life, and even if he had you’re sure that no didn’t last long. Where is your gentle knight? Why do you have to be doomed to a nightmare when so many other girls get to be loved?

Someone touches you. No one is supposed to touch you. You jerk away, the world snapping back into focus with a rush of sound and color. You maid crouches next to you, your hand between hers, concern clear in the furrow of her brow. You look around the table, the startled expression of your parents, König's wide eyes. Your lady in waiting swipes her handkerchief over your wet cheeks silently. Are you crying?

"I'm sorry," you smile at the other people seated at the table, "I'm just- just so excited at the prospect of marriage I suppose." Your lady- your friend fixes König with a sour expression, still dabbing at your makeup. You glance at your mother to try and pick up the conversation, maybe salvage this torture. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes set on König. Her expression is placating, her smile as warm as a crocodile’s. Political, just like you are supposed to be.

The air in this room is stifling. Your parents love you, but they care about you only as far as you’re useful to them. Despite your mother’s previous words, a king is too good a deal to pass up. Just like a princess throwing a tantrum in the middle of the night is too disgraceful to mention in the morning. 

“She’s not usually like this,” your mother tells König, her voice sweet, “she must be nervous in the face of a man so…” König raises a brow, despite the full plate of food in front of him, he has yet to remove his mask, “handsome.”

You shove off your maid’s fussing, your skin crawling to be touched by anyone. You’re going to be sick. You hardly mutter an ‘excuse me’ before you’re running from the room.

#cod x reader #x reader #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig #knight!ghost #medieval au #even tho he isn't in this lol #it is Ghost's story #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #könig mw2 #konig cod

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 1

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

You never know how much you're gonna miss a person until they are going away, even for a small period of time. Less to say you were feelling a little bummed watching your dear brother James standing in the platform waiting for the Hogwarts train. It was gonna be his first year, and even though you were gonna join him next year, it still didn't change the fact that he was going away, that too for a year.

While he busy getting being fussed over by mum and dad, you glanced up at the sound of the train coming. James turned excitedly, hugging mom and dad, before he could fully turn to you, you jumped on him cluthching him, "Aww, little zouwu, are you going to miss me"

"No", came your muffled sound, James patted your back, "I know I am special but don't cry over me now". He grinned at your glare.

"I'm not crying" you huffed.

"Whatever you say" James smirked.

"Write me letters" you mumbled.

"I will" He smiled, he probably will, if he didn't you had plans to *ahem* renovate his room.

And thus he walked towards the train, you looked around the station to see similar scenarios, your eyes met another kid's, your age probably considering he was still with his parents, his mom seemed to be scolding the older brother probably who looked physically pained to stand there. You waved at the boy, causing him to stare confusingly. That's when the train signalled, causing the older one to run towards the train. And soon you saw the train took off while clinging onto your dad's hand. "Let's go now", your mum muttered. As you turned to leave, you once again turned towards the boy you saw, just to find him already looking at you.

After that the whole year went in a blur, you learned about James's new adventures every week from his letters, there were ramblings of the new friends he had made, the annoying and the good teachers, journeys to hagrid's hut, about pranks that even your parents didn't know of and of the many adventures he had. All that only went into details when he came back for christmas and summer break.

The whole of summer break you pestered James to tell you everything you should know. You sat on the couch, legs resting on his stomach as he remain sprawled on the couch.

"Jamie, what house do you think I'll go to?"

"Hufflepuff, obviously" James smirked.

"What, why" you huffed, crosing your arms.

"I mean, you're not smart, not brave, not ambitious and that leaves you in- James voice craclked as his face was hit by the force of the couch pillow. He removed it, getting up staring at you with a malicious glint, causing you to run yelling "Dad, help me, James is hitting me"

"I didn't even -she did it first"

The Diagon alley was always a wonderful place to be, they always had some new and exciting things, you got your wand, a sleek yew wood with white river monster spine at its core.

Mr.Ollivander had glanced at her strangely, "Treat it poorly and you won't access its power, treat it right, it will be loyal to no other". You had nodded, deciding later to brew upon it. For the most part, you were happy to get your own, cause when James got it last year, he didn't even let you touch his, no matter how much you begged him.

You were currently left by your parents at the pet shop, you were searching for a good owl, when a small hustle caught your eye, a snow great horned owl, fighting with another brown one. As you came close, he stood up and stood in the front, fluffing his feathers as if it had done no wrong, cute, you thought.

Taking the owl in your hand, you had turned swiftly, almost colliding with the boy who was standing behind you, the owl screeched, catching him, you exclaimed a loud "Merlin". Staring wide eyed at him you seem to find his face quite familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint, why. Regulus hadn't meant to stand there but he too had found the owl's commotioninteresting. And before he could move, you collided into him, he kept looking at you before realizing he was blocking the way, "Oh, sorry" he muttered moved sideways, You smiled moving past him.

He stared back at the owl on the rack, he lifted his finger, the barn owl moved towards him, nuzlzling in his fingers, he smiled "She's sweet', taking the owl to the counter, he again glaced at the same girl, the shopowner smiled, "Oh, the lovebirds", Regulus head snapped towards the cashier, "What". The shopowner chuckled, "I meant the owls, they are quite in love with each other". You glanced at her curiously "But they were fighting". The shopkeeper smiled looking at them, "Oh, they haven't realised it yet".

Author's Note : The writer means no Hufflepuff slander, it is meant to taken as just a jest. The writer fully supports Hufflepufs like the other houses.

#regulus black #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #marauders #james potter #sirius black #marauders era

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

The continuation for that Alcina fic was fucking deliciousssssss skdjfskldfj

It got me thinking, I'm not sure if you've written a fic like this before or if you would even write one like this, but I was wondering what that situation (or one similar to it) would look like from Alcina's POV?

Hello, dears ♥️ In preparation for reaching ✨1,750 followers✨, I've been working on a little fic that was inspired by both this ask 🔺🔺🔺 (thank you 👀 I'm so glad you liked it jdhddjkd) , as well as this incredible piece of fanart!

But first and foremost:

Thank you all for following! 💋

And as for the request, here you go! Written from Alcina's POV and just under 3k words 👀 I hope some of you will enjoy it! 😁♥️

The Lady found herself in a foul mood as she made her way back into the castle. Met with nothing but absolute silence as she opened the large doors and walked into the even larger foyer. Of course, she expected no one else to be awake at this hour, save for her daughters who were still out on the hunt. Though, as she made her way slowly up the staircase, a faint sound could be heard traveling its way softly through the corridors. A quiet, subtle melody hummed just barely loud enough to be heard. But, of course, she heard it. She heard everything that happened within those castle walls - even when she cared not to.

“The audacity.. sneaking out at this hour.” She grumbled to herself, following the haunting sound. Her foul mood turning even more sour when she realized that her hopes of getting directly into a hot, soothing bath had been swiftly thwarted. Instead making it so she'd likely have to discipline someone instead. She sighed as the voice grew louder, leading her directly into the library.

A Countess' work is never done, Alcina, she thought to herself tiredly. Of course it wasn't. Why should she be able to enjoy the solitude of a hot bath and a glass of her favorite wine after running through the woods chasing after man-things all night? She huffed at the air, frustrated - irritation riddling her weary bones as she opened the doors to the large room - the soft humming immediately halting as she did.

“There's no use in hiding, dear. I may be tired, but I can still smell you from here.”

A murmured curse in response from a voice she knew all too well. She sighed again.

“Draga.. of all the nights to be breaking curfew..”

The Countess was in no mood and she could feel her patience wearing thinner by the minute. Of all people.

“Come out, pet, now.” She ordered through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the figure of her current paramour came hesitantly out from behind the bookstacks and into view. Skin pale and a look of sheer panic on their face.

“Alcina-”

“I don't believe now is the time for such informalities.” She responded sternly, cutting them short.

They swallowed nervously. “Right, of course. S-sorry, my lady. I.. I thought you were out for the night?”

Alcina scoffed. “As if that gives you the right to be disobeying my direct orders? Hm? Traipsing around the castle at all hours of the night.”

“N-no… it's just.. I-”

“Save it, pet. I am in no mood for excuses and you're the last person I wanted to have to discipline tonight.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and moved further into the room. A profound wave of exhaustion washing over her that forced a slight stumble to her stride.

When was the last time she had even fed? She wondered.

“My lady? Are.. are you alright?”

“It's nothing.” She snarled.

“Countess.. I am.. very sorry for disappointing you. And I know you're angry with me.” The human’s voice softened a little as they moved closer to her, fidgeting anxiously with their fingers. “But, if there is anything I can do? You know, to help.”

“There is.” She growled, “You can start by not being so incompetent!”

This time the words that came out were raw, primal - dipped in venom - the dragon within her inching closer and closer to the surface as her need to feed grew stronger. Albeit, the moment she saw her handservant flinch - coiling back at her words - she couldn't help but soften. Sighing, she turned to face them.

“I am sorry, draga. I seemed to have lost myself. While, yes, I am disappointed that you disobeyed the rules of this castle - you did not.. deserve that.” Alcina sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and took a deep breath, her body overcome with exhaustion. “I fear it has been too long since I last fed. Which makes being around me at the moment rather.. dangerous. It would be for the best that you return to your quarters for now, pet. I'll deal with your punishment in the morning.”

“Oh. Of course, my lady.”

They bowed and then turned to leave before pausing.

“Uh.. Alcina?” They asked tentatively.

The Countess looked up, eyes heavy. “Hm?”

“Ah, if I may - you could.. use me.. if you wanted?”

Alcina raised an eyebrow. “Use you? How?”

“Ah.. heh.. that is, to feed? From me?”

The Countess stared blankly, shocked for a moment before shaking her head. “That's not necessary, draga. I have everything I need in my room.”

“I'm aware.. but.. you know. You're obviously quite exhausted and I'm.. well, I'm right here.”

They gave her a crooked little smile that she couldn't help but chuckle at.

“If you're trying to get out of your punishment, pet-”

“N-no! I'll fully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I just.. want to help, is all.”

“Mmh..” The lady hummed in thought, mulling their very tempting offer. She was exhausted, this was true. And it'd been longer than she could recall since she’d had the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. Warm and pulsing and straight from the tap.

Still..

With the dragon in her so close to the surface, the worries of her losing control were imminent. And the thought of losing yet another partner - one as sweet and caring as they were, again - was almost too much of a thought to handle. Alcina physically shuddered at the thought, the warmth from the fire doing very little to calm her worries. Worries that her handservant must have quickly picked up on. Small fingers sliding into her own and a kind face looking up at her as they kneeled on the castle floor in front of her.

“Hey, I trust you.”

Alcina snorted. “Famous last words, pet.”

They chuckled softly. “How about this then.. is there maybe another part of my body that would be safer to drink from? Than say, my neck?”

The Lady smirked. “Mh, perhaps... your inner thigh would probably work.”

Alcina watched as a soft pink hue began to crawl across the human's cheeks. It was strikingly gorgeous basked in the firelight.

“O-oh.. well, ah.. that seems.. doable.”

A flash of crimson as her smirk widened. Her lover’s heartbeat quickening by the minute, thumping loudly over the soft crackle of the fire.

“Mhm.. are you certain? It may… hurt, quite a bit.”

Oh, how that blush grew even deeper at the Countess’ words. How exquisite it was. Alcina could feel the smugness seeping into the corners of her lips as she watched them fluster.

“I.. oh.. that's okay. I don't mind, my lady. R-really.” They replied, rubbing the back of their neck.

Not that they would've been the first of Alcina's suitors to be into pain. Far from it, in fact - it seemed to be a commonality in many of the lovers she had taken over the years. Whether it was just something that came with the territory - or more the fact that whenever they looked at her they found themselves thinking “big lady, break me” - either way, it was a noticeably recurring occurrence in the Countess’ love life.

“Very well.” Alcina replied, rising from the chair to her full height. “Pull up your skirt, pet, and take a seat.”

As dutiful as ever, her servant quickly obeyed and took their Lady's place on the large chair. A coy smile on their face as they pulled the simple fabric of their uniform past their upper thighs, exposing their supple flesh along with their dampened undergarments.

“Like this?” They asked with a smirk.

“Bold time for you to be acting bratty, pet. Don't you think?”

“Ah.. m-maybe?” They answered sheepishly.

“Mhm.”

And even though the Countess’ tone remained firm, she could only shake her head and chuckle as she lowered herself down to the fresh, warm meal that waited for her. A deep flush decorating the human’s cheeks as the Lady knelt in front of them, hands spreading their legs a little further apart for her.

“O-oh.. uh.”

The Countess looked at them curiously before leaning back. “If you're having second thoughts, pet-”

“N-no! I just.. ah.. this view is just.. really nice.”

An even smugger smirk grew across the Lady's lips. “Mhm.. is it now?”

“I mean.. yes?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, draga.. very rarely does one ever get me on my knees.”

The flushed servant almost choked in response as they quickly nodded, face as red as their employer’s lips.

“I.. mhm.. enjoying it. Yes.”

“Mh.. probably wet at just the sight, aren't you?” Alcina asked teasingly, forcing them to whine.

“A-alcinaa.. that's unfair.”

“And that's not an answer.”

The Countess' words grew a little darker, punctuating them with a firm scratch across the human's inner thigh, immediately pulling droplets of warm crimson to the surface.

They cursed. “Fine.. yes.. I am.”

“Mh.. good.”

A single sweep of her tongue over the fresh gash forced another whine from her lover, a fierce shiver rolling over their body. Alcina knew she was going to enjoy all of this maybe a little too much - but the needy sounds she could will from their lips was something she would never grow tired of. And as she leaned in a little further, with their metallic essence still warm in her mouth, she could smell just how aroused they already were.

Very good.

"Deep breaths now, pet. This is going to sting.”

They nodded softly in response, cheeks a brilliant hue and eyes widening the moment the Countess’ incisors began to lengthen, readying themselves to feed. Another swirl of her tongue over the spot she'd already marked. A rush of blood right below the surface, drawing the vampire directly to the proper vein. And as she gave her meal a final smirk, she took their thigh between two large hands and brought it to her mouth.

“Mmmph-!”

Whimpered breaths from her prey’s lips as sharp fangs seeped eagerly into their flesh.

“Mmmh.”

A subtle moan from within her own as she slowly drew their essence into her mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of them. They tasted even better than she’d imagined - sweeter, more refined - with metallic undertones fueled by a life force that only made her all the more hungry.

“You taste divine, draga.” Alcina murmured, her words reverberating deep into their skin before her fangs were sunk back in again.

“Ah-!”

The subtle flinch to the muscle that laid just beneath her teeth, the soft moan that fell from their whispered lips - the Countess knew if she didn't keep her control that she could very easily become ravenous for their taste. The pulse of it flowing warmly over her tongue as she swallowed it down, indulging herself in the life that danced throughout it.

They would surely make an excellent wine.

And even though the thought was morbid to most - to Alcina, it was merely a compliment. One of the highest in fact. Though, she found all the best tasting humans tended to be the ones she had no desire of actually killing. Ones that inherently touched her heart and moved her soul. But hell if she didn't appreciate any chance she got at a taste.

Her lover's growing moans were the only thing to bring her back from her thoughts - from giving into the primal force that always sat just under the skin - ready to take over. But gods, could she smell how wet they were for her. How their body squirmed every time she drew a long pull of blood from them. Their flesh heated against her lips, their strong musk enveloping the tiny space between them. And out of the corner of her eye, Alcina could even see that the chair beneath the human was readily growing damper.

”Good”. She thought smugly, a smirk beneath her blood coated lips when she finally pulled away to look up at them.

"Am I to believe you're actually enjoying this, draga? Are you really so needy?”

They whined at her ridicule, squirming even more - her teasing tone and slightly taunting words having the exact effect on them that she wanted.

“You will answer me if you expect something done about it.” She demanded.

Another whine.

“F-fuck.. yes, okay? It's.. it feels good.”

“Mh. Better.”

The Lady placed a gentle kiss to their inner thigh and then brought two fingers to the hem of their underwear, swiftly ripping the fabric from their body. Her patented smirk growing even wider the moment the measure of their arousal was reflected in the firelight - they were absolutely dripping for her.

“Well, well.. all this for me?”

“All for you. A-always.”

“Charming, are we?”

Alcina went to move a little closer but felt them tense, immediately making her stop. A single eyebrow raised at them inquisitively.

“Draga?”

“It's just.. you're exhausted, Alcina.. you don't have to-”

“Hush. When have you ever known me to do something I haven't wanted?”

They chuckled, blushing sheepishly. “You have a point.”

“Plus,” she smirked, “I'm not quite finished with my meal yet.”

An even deeper blush. “O-oh. Alright, then.”

The Countess hummed in content when her lover finally relaxed, their head falling softly back. Their sweet scent immediately pulling her back in, lips quickly finding their pulse point while her fingers teased their entrance. With soft folds so wet that she found barely any resistance as she slid two fingers into them, generously stretching their core.

“Mmph-!”

A single curl as the Countess closed her eyes, allowing her fangs to sink deep into the human’s flesh once again.

“F-fuck-”

She couldn't help but to draw her gaze upward, to enjoy the view for just a moment. Her stunning love - flushed, legs spread - eyes closed softly in a mix of want and preparation. It truly were a shame, she thought, how mortal humans could be. To lose such a gorgeous sight was an offense to Alcina’s very being. That the world could ever lose such beauty? It was a thought that made her all the more eager - almost ravenous - to possessively stake her claim upon them.

To which she did..

With the Lady's fangs seeped deep within their flesh and her fingers buried in their core. Thrusting, curling. Matching the controlled pulls from their thigh as she feasted upon them. With each movement willing the most arousing sounds from her lover. Some breathy, some loud - moaning each and every time Alcina drove her fingers in a little harder. But it wasn't enough, not for her. The Countess wanted more. She wanted her name screamed out into the night in ecstasy. She wanted her claim imprinted into the stars themselves.

And she paid no mind to how many orgasms ripped across her lover's body. She cared not for how soaked both her fingers and the fabric below her became. Having now fed to her content, her mouth began moving onto marking the rest of their thighs. Nibbling and sucking over every inch of eager flesh that she could reach. Their essence dripping from the corners of her mouth and painting their skin in a dark crimson. Their body trembling, vibrating with desire until another orgasm ripped through them violently, finally forcing the Countess’ name from their tongue like a pious prayer. Their voice quickly falling to nothing more than a whisper - raw from unhindered pleasure.

“F-fuck, Alcina..”

“Mh, language.”

“Pretty sure.. it's warranted.”

Alcina chuckled before licking the excess blood from her lover's wounds, their thighs sufficiently covered in her claim.

“These should heal in a few days. I'll bring you some balm for them tomorrow.”

“Hm.. I like them, though.” The human pouted.

The Countess snorted. “Of course you do. My sweet little masochist.”

Feeling fully refreshed from her meal, Alcina had no intention of sleeping anytime soon, but she knew her handservant would certainly need rest after all of that. The loss of blood mixed with the intense dopamine boost would be enough to wipe anyone out. Without muttering a word, Alcina rose to her full height and picked up her lover's discarded underwear before lifting them up into her arms and into a full bridal carry.

“My lady-!”

“Hush, draga. You've lost a fair amount of blood, as well as other bodily fluids. You need to rest.” Even with the short walk from the library to the servants quarters, the body in her arms quickly grew heavy with sleep - the human’s breath nearly in a slumbered rhythm by the time they’d arrived.

“I’ll be back with some tea and something sweet for you, pet.” She said as she laid them gently onto their bed. “Please, try to drink and eat at least a little something before falling asleep.”

Her lover nodded tiredly, eyes heavy and cheeks flush with sleep.

“Mhm.. yes.. mistress…”

Alcina smiled and placed a tiny kiss to their cheek before walking towards the door. She was more than certain they'd be fast asleep by the time she returned, but she’d still do her best to make sure they woke up knowing just how much she treasured them.

Warm tea, their favorite pastry, some balm for their wounds and a note reading "Thank you for the exquisite meal, draga. Next time is on me. - xx, Alcina." would be there to greet them as soon as they woke up.

A/N: If I ever make it to 2k, I might just finally do some bottom!Alcina for you all 👀♥️

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu pov #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #this is my 2nd attempt ever at writing from Alcina's POV 👀 #i hope i did her justice ♥️ #thank you all so much for following! #1750 followers ✨ #re8 asks

[raphael-angele]

How I imagine Bianca if she lived:

One name: Bernadette Rostenkowksi Wolowitz

During Capture the Flag:

Bianca, yelling at Percy as they run: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Percy: *panting*

Bianca: How am I faster than you?! I'm carrying more equipment and I stopped to tie my shoes!

Percy: I have asthma...BACK OFF!

---

Coming back from the Titan's Curse Mission:

Nico: Bia! *runs to her and hugs her*

Bianca: *hugs him back* Hey. *pulls away and looks at him* How was camp?

Nico: It was awesome! We did wood carving, and made smores, and I learned how to make a fire, Travis and Conner even let me join Capture the Flag

Bianca, who made them promise not to let Nico join CtF until he's trained and claimed:

Nico: :)

Bianca: That's nice. Why don't you go back to the Cabin and we'll talk about the mission.

Nico: Mkay :)

Bianca, walking up to Travis and Conner: You better explain to me why you chose to ignore my instructions about my little brother joining that game, cuz one way or another, I'm gonna leave grieving for a friend.

---

Leo, opening the door:

Bianca: You son of a bitch. What did you tell Nico?! Did you tell him that there's something going on between us because he thinks there is and he is completely freaking out!

Leo:

Leo: Please, come in.

Bianca: What in Hades is wrong with you?! Leo, my position as a Hunter could be compromised! I could get into a lot of trouble!

Leo: Wha- I didn't say that there was something going on between us. I said that you were always so nice to me, it would be nice to be with someone like you.

Bianca: I'M NICE TO EVERYONE!

Leo: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it that way

Bianca: Damn right you are. You tell my little brother that there is nothing, never has been, and never will be anything between us.

Leo: I will...hey, Bianca?

Bianca: What?!

Leo: You think I have a shot with Thalia?

Bianca: Of course, you do! You're a sweetheart! Any girl would be lucky to have you! *leaves and slams the door*

---

After Leo "died":

Percy and Jason fighting:

Jason: For the last time, I didn't mean to!

Percy: Oh, you didn't mean to? I'll show you what-

Bianca: HEY! Percy, Jason, other room, right now!

*other room*

Bianca: I don't know what you think you're doing but this is a very difficult time for the lot of us. We're doing this in honor of Leo and you're just gonna fight all night like a couple of children? What ever it is you're fighting about, put it aside, go back in there, and be a good friend or there's no dessert for either of you!

*main room*

Nico:

Hazel:

Frank:

Piper:

Thalia:

Reyna:

Bianca: Look at me when I'm talking to you-

Hazel, whispering to Nico: You ever notice how Bianca sounds just like dad?

Nico: ...nope

---

Hazel: Bianca, you've been to Olympus, right? On your first mission? What did it look like?

Bianca: Oh, it was beautiful. I looked down and it like it was like looking at a whole different world...if I could, I would've wiped it all out with my thimb like a God.

Hazel:

---

One summer: Hazel, Annabeth and Bianca decide to go to Disney World

Annabeth: Okay, so there's this place on Disney World where you pick your princess, they give you the hair, the makeup, the works. Haven't tried it before but I guess it would be fun to be Belle

Hazel: Oh, I wanna be Belle, too

Bianca: We can't all be Belle.

Annabeth: Alright then, how do we decide?

Bianca: Simple. This was my idea, I'm paying for it, I'm Belle. You bitches got a problem with that, we can go back to Camp right now.

---

Bianca: When was the last time you got any sleep?

Nico, figuring out a procephy: I don't know, two-three days? Not important. I don't need sleep. I need answers. I need to determine where in this SWAMP of unbalanced forces squatteth the toad of truth.

Hazel: Toad of truth? Is that a Greek thing?

Will: No, that's a sleep deprived thing.

Bianca: Okay, Nico. What happens to our brains if we don't get enough sleep?

Nico: They lose their ability to function and be rational?

Bianca: Exactly. So go march in there, go take a shower and get some sleep.

Nico: But I don't wanna go to sleep!

Bianca: I'm gonna count to three. One-

Nico: *sneers* Alright. *goes*

Will:

Hazel:

Will: Please teach me how you did that

Bianca: I raised him. I know how to get him to eat his vegetables, too.

---BONUS---

Taking Bianca to the drop off where she'll meet with the other hunters:

Bianca: Thank you for coming along to see me off, William

Will: Of course. Just wanna make sure you get there safe

Nico: Yeah, you'll get plenty of time looking for a new boy toy.

Bianca: Hey. I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: Yes, ma'am

Will:

Will: Nico, you have a very attractive sister. You need to get used to the fact that even though she's vowed not to be in a relationship, she'll have plenty of suitors who would want to have her as their partner.

Nico: And you need to mind your own business

Will: Wha- I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: You don't tell me what to do

Bianca: Don't you go disrespecting him

Nico: Yes, ma'am.

Bianca, to Will: You'll get there, you just gotta put some zing on it.

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo #incorrect quotes #percy jackson #thalia grace #hazel levesque #leo valdez #will solace #solangelo #tbbt #source: the big bang theory #the big bang theory #source: tbbt #bernadette rostenkowski

[spacebarbarianweird]

Ooh how about a Ranger!Tav who hunts undead (like Vampire Lords 👀) x Astarion?

This is the ultimate monster-hunting duo! Though, Rangers are known to be a bit lame in DnD. If it isn't their favored terrain or favored enemy - they are fucked up.

And Tumblr ate the first rough draft, which caused me some psychic damage.

What if Ranger!Tav is a member of some party of heroes, like "Vox Maquina"? And just can't wait to reunite with their former companions?

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Ranger!Tav

You never had a chance to talk about your future together. It's not like any of you expected to survive and not be turned into Mindflayers.

When Astarion runs away from the sun, you rush to find him but lose track.

Cities aren't your favored terrain.

Astarion returns to the Elfsong Tavern three days later - he looks like a beaten stray cat.

You cuss him. Use all the known slurs.

Why didn't he come back the first day? Why did he disappear?

You thought he'd died! Burnt to ashes!

He is shocked. 

He has never thought his actions could hurt you. He thought you would be better without him.

You drag Astarion to the bathroom, and, while helping him scrub himself, you finally start talking about your own past.

Something you never really mentioned before.

You have home.

Rather a home base but still home

You have a family.

Rather, a group of weirdos who happened to meet each other years ago and call themselves the Brotherhood of Shadows.

Yes, the name was chosen by a Bard. No one had better suggestions, but you know it's stupid.

There is also a Fighter, a Bard, a Cleric, and a Sorcerer. Together you hunt monsters, bad guys, and protect the common people.

You know, eat the rich and distribute their money among the poor.

And you are coming back.

Astarion is hesitant. He isn't ready to share you. And what if those friends of yours won't accept him?

What if years of friendship are a counterweight to this month of passionate love?

They are monster hunters! Monster hunters don't accept monsters at their homes.

What if one of them is in love with you?

But you still ask him to give it a try.

Astarion prays to all the gods to make the journey as long as possible. 

Deep within, he knows he will lose you.

Suddenly, he notices a raven, circling above you.

"Black Death!" you exclaim, stretching out your hand. 

"It's my pet raven, Black Death. Black Death, this is Astarion".

"Death, death, death," repeats the raven, staring at Astarion.

Then the raven soared into the sky and disappeared.

The next day a Half-Orc Sorcerer rushes toward you, yelling "Tav! Tav is that really you?!"

Astarion stands aside, feeling like a fifth wheel, while you and your old friend share news.

"Listen about this man with me…"

"A vampire? So, you've rejected all the men who ever dared to approach you, including myself, and found yourself a vampire?" 

Astarion feels a wave of anger. He already doesn't like your friends.

But the next moment, the Half-Orc stands in front of him, friendly insisting on joining the Brotherhood.

"Besides, I can't believe there have been so many wild bloodsuckers in these woods. It's good to have a vampire of your own to deal with them, am I right?"

Apparently, no one objects to a vampire in their small army of weirdos.

Or maybe they love Tav so much they are ready to accept anyone she brings along.

"Sign me up for the next Mindflayer's attack. I want to get a man, too!" the Cleric jokes.

Astarion sleeps in your room. When the Brotherhood leaves at daylight, Astarion stays to keep an eye on the homebase.

And he talks to possible contractors, demanding to be paid more than they expect.

He is insufferable in the best meaning of this word.

Astarion makes friends.

He often talks about magic and history with the Sorcerer. Or arguing with the Bard ( they have so much in common it pisses them both off)

Astarion feels at home. He has family, he has friends, he has a person to love and hold.

Even Black Death accepts him as his master, though Astarion isn't always capable of communicating with the bird.

Often, you go on night walks together into the woods, an, since you are both horny as nine hells, it often ends not as expected.

You are switches - both hunters and both prey.

Sometimes Astarion "hunts" you - a murderous vampire chasing a helpless Ranger to subdue to his power and hunger.

Then it's your turn - you are a monster hunter, and no vampire has ever escaped you.

Even the Bard calls you freaks when you return at sunset both covered in dirt (and, probably, other fluids under your clothes).

Astarion cares about you deeply - always making sure you are healed before you embark on another adventure.

And he is the one who nurtures you if you are sick or wounded.

He likes being a hero. He likes being a caregiver, both roles he once despised. 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #dnd #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion imagine #astarion x female reader #dnd ranger #oc tav ranger #ranger tav

[disappointmentofthefam]

Love? Love. (part 3)

Andy barber x reader

author's note:im so tired only death can fix me

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

Andy woke up early the next morning.

6:00 a.m.

She smells so good

6:04 a.m.

God the way she looks away when she's all shy and cute

6:10 a.m.

you wore those shorts on purpose yesterday, didnt you?

6:45 a.m.

His hand is stroking his morning wood over the sheet.

it's wrong its wrong it's so so wrong

but it's her.

her. her on her knees.

"look at daddy, sweetheart,look at me while i ruin you," she looks up at me, mascara running down her bambi eyes as she drools around my cock.

"feel good,baby? you like being daddy's little cumslut? like it when he uses your mouth? I bet your little pussy is dripping just by sucking on daddy's big cock"

she. fucking. moans. around. it. FUCK!

Andy's hands speed up, vigorously rubbing his fat, hard cock, beads of precum spilling from the pink head of his cock.

i pull myself from her mouth, "youre such a filthy little girl," I take ahold of my cock and slap the sticky head on her cheeks "no,no baby, tch tch,"

"open your eyes, look at daddy"

FUCK! the image of you looking up at him with those teary eyes while he slaps your cockdrunk face with his meaty head is too much for him. With a few more strokes,he cums all over his hands, stomach and sheets, a blissed out smile on his face as he turns to the bedside clock- 7:25 a.m.

less than 12 hours till he gets to fuck see you.

AND LESS THAN AN HOUR TO HIS COURT HEARING!

He rushes to get ready and leaves the house, thankfully reaching just in time.

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

y/n wakes up and immediately wishes she hadn't.

as if it wasn't bad enough to try to kiss the man who lived literally opposite to you, but she also had to go to his house 5 days a week.

"you're a big girl, y/n" her friend's voice comes through the phone, "so what? you misread the situation and tried to kiss him, no big deal."

"NO BIG DEAL?" y/n screeches into her pillow, "the first time I come onto a man and HE LIVES LITERALLY NEXT DOOR WHAT WAS I THINKING"

The rest of her day, she is plagued by the thoughts of Andy.

9 a.m. Physics class

wait, what if he was trying to kiss me back

11 a.m. Math class

No,he wouldn't.

1 p.m. Lunch

but would he?

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

6 p.m.

All day Andy has been in an unfamiliarly pleasant mood, he even brought flowers as he left his office unusually early.

lillies? no, I think she's more of a tulips girl. But what about sunflowers. And now that I'm already at trader joe's how about condo-

CALM DOWN! fuck fuck fuck! you'll only creep her out.

7:30 p.m.

Andy is fuming.

his gritting teeth, his fingers tapping impatiently on the steering, the low murmurs from his lips, all can be heard despite the clatter of the traffic.

Y/n ,on one hand is relieved

well, one less awkward rejection

on the other hand, her mind is working over time.

what if he is intentionally ignoring me?

what if he thinks I'm a loser-college-freak who kisses and becomes obsessed with any guy who is nice to her.

what if, her breath hitches, what if he has a girlfriend

Jacob notices the sudden stiffness in Y/n's body, "Are you okay y/n?", He asks with his eyebrows pinched with concern.

"Oh! yes, yes I'm alright, all fine".Y/n smiles.

After a few more minutes of studying, Jake suddenly speaks up, "You know, dad was really happy when you came over yesterday,"

y/n's heartbeat quickens,"What do you mean, jake?"

"Well, I don't know,but I've never seen him smile like that."

"Like what?"

"Like...." he pauses for a moment, "Like you know how sometimes as a little kid, you get lost in the grocery store. You can't find your mom and you get scared. But then you see her and she was over there the whole time, picking out your favorite chocolates, and you run upto her,your smile is the biggest ever"

y/n giggles at Jacob's absurd metaphor but then again, he was quite mature for his age.

"so am I the cashier of the grocery store in your little metaphoric world?"

"no ,y/n, I guess what I'm trying to say is that you were the smile on my dad's face"

"Jacob....."

The sound of Andy's car pulling into the driveway catches their attention.

Andy enters the house, 3 bouquets in his hand.

"Dad," Jacob smiles knowingly "who are those for?"

Andy's eyes try to find y/n's but she is looking at the floor, her breath obviously a little heavy, her cheeks flushed.

Andy ushers Jacob out of the room,"Come on, young man,take a break from all that studying."

y/n still isn't looking at him.

Andy settles down on his haunches before y/n and holds her chin between his thumb and he forces her to look him in the eyes.

"hi, angel"

"hey, Andy" The way she slightly shifts in her place on the sofa doesn't go unnoticed by Andy.

He picks up the flowers, "didn't know which ones you liked,so i tried my best three guesses."

The contrast of his dominant presence and the tenderness of his actions makes y/n melt into a puddle as she sheepishly plays with the collar of Andy's crisp white shirt.

"The sunflowers, Andy. I love them."

Andy picks the yellow bouquet and places it on her lap.

"I was correct,sweets," he rasps out, their lips mere inches away.

"well,technically, you were only 33% correct", she laughs.

"Well, I have got to shut your smart little mouth up"

With that Andy pulls her into a fierce kiss.

He rises onto his feet, pulling her with him.

The kiss is a perfect mix of y/n and Andy, teeth and tongue and smiles and small licks.

Their bodies were as close as they could be and it still wasn't close enough.

y/n pulls away first, out of breath and dizzy from being drunk on Andy's lips, only for Andy to chase her lips again.

"If it wasn't for the flowers, I would think you were trying to kill me, hogging practically all of my oxygen", she pants but smiles nevertheless.

"well if it wasn't for tutoring, I would think you came here just for me. did you sweetheart? did you wear this cute little dress just for me? "Andy tuts her again as she tries to hide her face into his chest, "look at me while I'm talking to you, baby."

y/n looks up at him and fuck is it a sight to behold.

Pupils blows out, her lips pouty and her lipstick slightly smudged, her flustered gaze as a small smirk forms on her lips, "are you accusing me of trying to seduce you Mr. Barber?"

"yes"

"well, maybe you're right, I wore this dress just fir you," she pauses as she feels his hands pawing at her tits.

"go on," Andy says with a smug smile.

nuh uh Mr. Barber, I will not go down with out a fight,

"In fact, i did everything for you today. I put on makeup, wore my pretty heels, painted my nails, didn't wear any panties....."

The look on Andy's face is pained and he looks almost on the brink of losing control, "really?

y/n gingerly pulls one of his hands from her chest and slowly traces it up her thigh, "see Andy? why don't you check it yourself."

Andy slowly inches his hands towards her pussy when the sudden sound of the doorbell makes them jump from their places.

Andy pecks and bites y/n's lips, "Give me a sec."

"No,you cant answer the door like that"

"like what?"

y/n shyly eyes the bulge in his pants,"like that."

"shit! sweetheart, could you do it?"

y/n opens the door to a woman.

she looks around her early thirties, aroundAndy's age, she's thin and her brown hair are tied into a ponytail.

The woman gives y/n a pointed look.

"Hi, I'm Laurie, Andy's wife."

#andy barber smut #chris evans smut #andy barber x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #bucky barnes smut #lloyd hansen #chris evans fanfiction #Steve Rogers x reader

[infinityinakiss]

avatrice au fic recommendations:

i don't think there is a single avatrice au fic that i haven't read so here are some my favorites. i tried to find ones that weren't as popular, so hopefully there are couple here you haven't read.

I want to believe by puppybusby @yashastrongarms - x files au - basically 23k of avatrice flirting while being incredibly reckless with alien shit. unfortunately, it is only a one shot that doesn't delve into their relationship, but it is so worth it. and the tension. woof.

Truly a Steadfast Love by StoicLastStand - medieval au - they have a whole series of ficlets, but this is one of my favorites. there's a tournament to win ava's hand in marriage, ava goes undercover to fight for her freedom, but she ends up falling for the very knight who everybody wants to win. i also love their lucifer au, Greater Sacrifices.

a lover, or something of mine by Smokestarrules - reincarnation au - each chapter is a different life with a different story, and i promise you, if you have anything that even resembles a heart, you will cry. i keep going back and rereading chapter 4 because apparently i love to hurt myself. i also love the world is just illusion (trying to change you) by them, it's a road trip au.

i should love you (and i swear i do) by Noteveryonefitsintothebadbitchgenre - harry potter au (fuck jk rowling) - its that trope where they're married and they talk about each other constantly but nobody actually knows they're married. their students all think that professor silva and professor young have a friendly rivalry, but there are a couple of moments that don't add up.

purple by sxftmelody - hitman au - technically, but really it's just sad, i always cry at the end. beatrice helps ava run away after a job, and slowly they open themselves up and start to fall in love. tw: major character death. also love turning page by the same author, mercenary/princess au.

in our corner of the world by definitelynotthere - roommate au - i know, i know, there's a thousand roommate aus, why would i recommend a fic that isn't even finished and will probably never get finished? i don't know, i just really love this one, and if you're like me, you'll go "ooh, two cakes" and read it anyway.

The last hero of Ogygia by jessnope - percy jackson au - specifically calypso au, ava is calypso and beatrice is the flirty hunter that washed up on her shore. it's super cute.

stay there, 'cause i'll be coming over (while our blood's still young) by britishngay - spiderman au - ava's character voice is actually designed to be spiderman, and bea is the perfect doctor lady that patches spidey up when she gets hurt. plus beatrice telling lilith to "shut up and sit down" will never not be iconic.

sunday people (sunday shines for you) by gilligankane @piratekane - another roommates au - jealous ava is back again and out for blood, specifically jenn-with-two-ns blood.

this is my prayer (I'm in love with you) by nyxtyka - my best friend's wedding/spies au - i'll be honest, this fic went to my marked for laters to die. i don't know if it'll ever be finished, but it is one of my favorite aus, i promise it'll be worth the pain.

spellbound by onomofication - witch au - beatrice is the witch in the woods that ava goes to to finally find a way to explore the world like she has always wanted to. but as she gets to know the surprisingly kind, serious, kinda-sorta witch, she discovers that maybe the world was smaller than she had once imagined. i also love another fic by this author, hit me with you best shot, which is basically a cupid au, where ava runs around trying to stop jc, a cupid, from shooting the love of her life, beatrice.

the celestial glow is blinding by understreetlights - firewatch au - did i think ava and beatrice sitting around, looking at trees, and falling love with each other through walkie talkies was going to be interesting? no, but the world loves to prove me wrong.

too cold, it's withdrawal by KatieQgle - captain america au - give this one a chance, even if you don't like marvel. beatrice is hot as fuck as bucky and honestly the winter soldier plot line needed a little sapphic yearning. come on, avatrice in the army in the 1940s, being badass and fighting nazis together? who wouldn't love that?

i have a ton more, reach out if you want them!

#is it clear that i love 15k one shots? #i'm sorry for all the unfinished ones they're just too good #and hey maybe you can manifest them updating #just don't harass the writers #fic writers are like cats stuck under a building #you have to lure them out with gentle words and treats #warrior nun #avatrice #warrior nun fanfic #avatrice fanfic #avatrice fanfiction #avatrice fic #avatrice au #also i'm sorry if i didn't tag everybody on tumblr i just suck at tumblr sometimes #some accounts i just couldn't find #if there's an account that i forgot to tag please let me know

[f4riedimples]

teachers pet

Pairings: katniss Everdeen x fem!reader

warnings: slight age difference(you can determine how much older katniss is than you for now),teacher/student relationship, affairs, talks of past trauma, g*le(1 mention)(no smut in this one sorry!)

summary: it was fucking beautiful, until it went too far.

wc:1603

a/n: I am not promoting anyone to do this irl, don’t let this flop, changed the og summary(I can tag u in the og ss)

This was never how it was supposed to happen.

At first you just came in and it was innocent practice.

How did it become more?

You never thought that this would happen and you felt guilty about it. But you didn't wanna tell anyone because not only did you not wanna rat out Katniss but you still enjoyed everything she did those days and nights as well

Just last week you lied about having to stay longer for "extra practice" to someone. In reality you were doing something you weren't meant to be.

You were sleeping with your teacher.(bow and arrow instructor)The mockingjay.

Katniss Everdeen.

Were you proud of it? Not completely but did it feel good for both you and Katniss? Hell yes.

And shamefully you were starting to feel something deeper for Katniss. But you knew you couldn't express it. She had peeta. And besides. She's older than you.

She would probably just try to dismiss it.

But you'd still go back. Out of love and out of the shameful way you would moan underneath her and twitch as she gave you what you wanted.

That was good enough. For now.

Right now instead of where you both usually practice which is in the woods or at a training center she's told you to come to her house.

Once you knock you know there's no point of even pretending to train. She was gonna take you.

She opens the door with a warm smile that turns into a small smirk once she sees you.

"Hi there Girl Scout. Looking for someone?" She jokes before chuckling. You can't help but giggle before she makes room for you too come inside.

You take a look around the house you've only been too once. Or twice. Or three times If you can remember. It's been a few months since you and Katniss started this but you haven't been able to come over her house that much.

"Hey Kat." You speak before looking down with a certain look in your eye. Katniss can't tell if it's just a soft look or if you want her.

At the end of the day you know you're here to do more than just hang out.

She takes a seat next to you. "Well hi there." You turn your body and look Katniss up and down as if you're asking if she's ready.

She's been through so much because of gale, the capitol, president snow and coin. Maybe she needs a stress relief. Although she's never really brought it up it still makes you think she deserves this.

Especially when she's rough. She needs to get her anger out.

She simply gives you a light kiss on your jaw then cheek before finally giving one on your lips. You moan as she slips her tongue into your mouth and gets a taste of you.

You, of course, immediately kiss back. Why wouldn't you? You both love this after all.

You run your fingers through Katniss' hair as she

puts her hands on your waist to pin you in place. Oh, the ideas that are coming to your pretty little head.

Just before you and Katniss can actually get down you both hear a knock on the door and immediately separate.

You instinctively whisper. "Who the hell is that?"

You ask with wide eyes before she speaks with a non whisper.

"I dunno." She shrugs casually and calmly before getting up with a sigh. She walks to the door but stops midway before turning around and speaking with a lower voice.

"Oh, and just so you remember, I don't think anyone would think anything If they saw me with a younger girl. Even if you're my student." She reminds you casually before turning around and walking back to the door.

She opens it and sees Johanna. "Well hey there brainless."

You see the smile on Johanna's face before she notices you and squints hers eyes slightly. Could she already be suspecting what's going on?

If she did you wouldn't be surprised since Johanna is pretty smart. As they talk you head to the bathroom and when you're out you get a bit of curiosity.

You decide to head to Katniss' room and go inside.

It's of course empty since she's downstairs with Johanna so you take opportunity to be nosy and look around.

You decide not to look on her dresser because that might have some precious things from her family but you do decide to look around and move towards her bed ready to take a seat.

Before you can however, you hear someone open the door and immediately turn around almost scared that it's Johanna or haymitch came over. Even worse:peeta.

Once you turn around to the person ready to explain you see it's just Katniss with a slight smile. "Hey baby. What are you doing in here?" She asks a little confused.

"Oh- I just didn't wanna interrupt what you and Johanna were talking about." You say with a nervous chuckle. Before you can apologize Katniss puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Oh that's no problem. You're always allowed in my room as long as you don't snoop around." She says calmly which you reply with a head nod. "Okay!"

And before you know it Katniss pins you against the wall. She of course had no intent on actually doing anything with you exactly at this moment but she liked seeing you nervous.

"Um- well this seems fun." You reply starting to shake the nerves off. Katniss gives a light hearted chuckle. "That's a good girl." She says before giving you a kiss on the head.

It was gentle and sweet which is something you liked about Katniss. She's didn't make you feel pressured into anything but she also didn't make you feel like a child.

It felt like a normal relationship.

"Now cmon. I think Johanna wants to see you." She says before taking your hand and leading you down

stairs. Once there you both immediately have a seat.

"So how've you been brainless junior?" Johanna quips mockingly. But not seriously at the same time.

It was an insult that she didn't care if you fight like but she also wasn't her intent to make you possibly upset.

You laugh at the nickname usually meant for Katniss. "Doing just well hothead." You spoke the half truth.

This was gonna be an interesting ride.

You and Katniss weren't getting to do anything which internally made you nervous and a little irritated not just for yourself but mostly katniss since you know that's probably the main thing she cares about doing with you.

You could tell by the look in her eyes she was upset especially when Johanna made a comment about inviting haymitch.

You saw the time and realized that your "lessons" were about to end. You get up from where you rested and head towards the door, followed by Katniss.

Katniss turns you around and looks at your face realizing that you're on edge. "What's wrong?" She asks as if she doesn't know.

You whisper trying not to feel any certain way.

"Because what do you think? Why didn't you tell me Johanna was coming over?" You ask trying to keep your composure. It's not like you mind Johanna's presence but this wasn't the time.

Katniss sighs before whispering back. "I didn't know okay? Besides you're acting like I'm upset we didn't have sex. I'm just upset we didn't get to spend a lot of time together." Katniss speaks pretty honestly causing you to sigh in a mix of relief and guilt.

Maybe you should've came quicker. (Something both you and Katniss have said before)

"I just- i thought that was the plan today." You say causing Katniss to roll her eyes at the idea. "Yeah."

"I did want sex. But I also wanted to see you just to see you." This wasn't one of the days Katniss just wanted to see you out of horniness which surprises

you.

"Oh..." Katniss softens up a bit. "We don't need to

have sex twenty four seven. Some days I really just wanna spend time with you." She speaks truthfully but you can't help but remember a thought just as

you were gonna smile.

"You have peeta. You don't need some random girl, someone you're training on the side." You whisper almost as if you're really getting upset now.

Katniss doesn't get mad immediately and actually seems a bit concerned and like she's trying to calm you down. Maybe just so Johanna won't hear or her suspicions.

"Listen, I know that. But I wanted you too. Why is that such a problem? We have each other now." Katniss says, developing a bit of attitude.

"So what? This is stupid. I can't keep doing this to myself Katniss. I might never be able to be with you like I want to not only because of my age. But because you're with peeta." You whisper your argument to Katniss. Trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Katniss starts with her feathers a bit ruffled. "It's it fucking stupid. I want you both. That's what I'm gonna get. Because you're perfect. I love you."

Katniss ends soft. She had never said this before.

Maybe she was just as deep as you knew you were.

There might be no going back on your emotions. You look up a bit stunned. "Okay.." you say a bit confused. Could this be true? "I- I love you too."

You spoke then giving Katniss a smile. Then you left.

Too blinded to turn back.

#katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #johanna mason #i already wanna make this a series #it was fucking beautiful until it went too far #teachers pet #dystopia #hunger games #johanna mason x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Confessions

Yandere/G.N Priest Reader blurb

Tw: religious themes, mentions of masturbation mdni 18+

You're nothing if not a figure for your community. With your faith in the higher powers, you extend their generosity to your fellow man both without and not. Some consider you an angel on your own for your unbound kindness towards those cast aside by the world. Long as you walk the chapels halls, its doors remain open for whoever may enter.

No matter what they may be.

-

Sweeping the dust from your robes, you take your seat in the confessional. It isn't long before the adjacent door is blown open - like a force rocked by a strong breeze. Just as the winds would settle, it closes without a sound. You fold your hands in your lap - awaiting its muted call.

"Priest...."

The voice itself is shrouded in sin. A quaken cry in beckoning for its messiah.

You dip your head in conformation. "I am here. I am surprised one of such nature as yours can enter holy grounds - but I am not one to judge who the Lord always into their home."

"You know of my presence?"

"In a sense. I've felt eyes on me in recent times, and know this is not your first time here. You may mask yourself with a different voice, or face - but I will always know what you are."

The voice shutters.

"Forgive me Priest, for I have sinned."

You smile. "And what sins do you wish to confess to?"

"I believe you know of a few as is. I watch you. Breath you. Worship you. My existence thrives by the desire that brew within alone. Even now, by your voice alone, I find the urge to satisfy my bodily needs."

The figure shifts in their booth, back pressed against its solid would. "Please... before my sins are clensed, allow me to take part in another."

"Do as you please."

They grunt. Metal clinks to the floor as their breathes become unsteady. They slowly rise in volume as a hand grips the window's grates. You hear the wet fall on saliva on skin as the intruder chuckles.

"Priest.. You are as foolish as you are merciful. I could tear down these walls and make you my idol before you could draw a single breath."

"But you won't."

A growl dies within the beast's throat; their heavy exhales reaching the skin of your neck as the shifting between fabric grows louder. Whether man or demon, they're reduced to an animalistic state by those three words. A declaration of the power you held over them, even if you hadn't meant it as such. Your calm will as they pleasure themselves in your presence further dictates where you stand against them and all others you face. A god amongst the weak.

"Priest.. for... give me."

"The lord will never turn their back on a member of their flock."

"I don't.. ngh.. I do not require the forgiveness of your false idol. Only yours."

Your answer comes after a moment of painful silence.

"I forgive you."

And with that single phrase, they become undone. The hand locked against the window reaches out as its body presses to the cold wood; praying to feel even an inch of your presence. To know that your mercy is true. You offer it in the form of a kiss to their outstretched fingers; another shutter running through the sinner like burning electricity. Though they cannot see you, they can tell you are listening. Lending ear to their pathetic cries as they meet their end; remaining by their side as they ride out the high that your touch gave them. The aftermath of their worship runs down their thighs as your door opens and your steps echo away from the booth; pausing briefly as you speak.

"Come to me if you ever need aid again. You are always welcome here."

#Priest reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere smut #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #suggestive

[neonghostlights]

Not sure what you’ll think about this but Eddie cuts across a cemetery on his way somewhere in a hurry and bumps into reader who was visiting someone’s grave. They have instant chemistry, but then he never sees her again and can’t find her, come to find out, she was a ghost.

Dear Betty Anon, this is amazing. I love ghosts. I am obsessed with them. If you knew me in real life you would see just how obsessed I am. I also am a lover of cemeteries so this was the perfect request. My mind is swimming with future ideas of these two because I really don't want to just leave it here.

Warnings: None besides mentioning drugs/Eddie being a drug dealer and reader being a ghost.

Wordcount: 2.2k

The Shortcut

The dead grass crunched beneath his boots as he cut through the trees. It was dark out, so late that if anyone spotted him in these woods they would think he was a phantom of some sort, going out on his nightly haunt. 

He didn’t mean to be late for the deal  but the van wouldn’t start when he tried to leave earlier. It was probably just a dead battery, a quick fix that he could easily take care of in the morning, but in the moment it felt like it was the end of the world. He had a reputation to uphold of being the best drug dealer in Hawkins, besides Rick.  He hoped whoever was waiting for him wouldn’t give him a hard time. 

The trees got fuller on this part of the trail, almost completely blocking out the light of the moon. He wished he had brought a flashlight with him when he left, but he had been in such a hurry that he had never even thought about it. 

These woods were creepy enough during the day, but at night the creepiness got turned all the way up. The trees here were nearly bare from the autumn weather, full of sharp angles that reminded Eddie of skeletons. Each branch casted a shadow on the ground that looked like arms reaching out of the darkness at him. The sleeves of his jacket got caught on his jacket, the woods seemingly trying to pull him deeper inside. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood, he couldn’t tell from what though, either the chill or the fear. He fought the urge to turn around constantly to make sure there was nothing trailing him. He reasoned that if there was something scary behind him then he’d just rather not know. 

His foot caught on a thick root cutting across the trail, sending him flying towards the ground. He felt like one of the girls that faceplant in a horror movie and then refuse to get up in time to continue running from the slow walking killer. He pushed himself up with an annoyed groan, the dirt and sticks cutting into his palms and making them sting. 

At this point he wanted to turn around and give up. He knew if he did then Rick would have his ass for it, and if the people he was meeting with were sketchy enough he’d rather not have them coming after him too. People get pissed off when it comes to their drugs. 

That’s why Eddie thought he was good at this job. He looked scary enough most of the time for people not to want to mess with him. They see leather jackets, long hair, and chains and decide they shouldn’t mess with him. 

On the outside he was tough, on the inside he simply was a man that was about to piss himself from how scary these woods were.

Wayne had always warned him away from these woods, especially at night. His uncle had spouted some stories: saying he had proof that Hawkins was a cursed place. Eddie usually took his warnings for granted, blaming the man’s old Appalachian superstitions that he never grew out of once he moved to Hawkins years ago.  He was surely wishing he had listened tonight though. 

The trees finally broke to the back of the old side of the Hawkins Cemetery. He groaned internally, he had completely forgotten that the trail would take him here. The graves in this part were more aged than the other side, less cared for and not as fancy. It sent an ache through his chest to see how abandoned these graves were, long forgotten by those who still lived. 

The fog rolled by his feet, reminding him of a horror movie with a cheap fog machine. The air in the cemetery had an electric feel to it, probably due to the comically large full moon that seemed to take up half the sky. 

He hadn’t been here in so long; hadn’t visited his mom’s grave in years. This place always made him feel like he was being watched, like there were eyes behind these headstones watching his every move. 

Eddie pushed forward along the trail, weaving throughout the rows of headstones. He silently hoped no one happened to drive by and spot him and call the cops on him for trespassing, especially with his supply on him.

All he needed to do was follow the trail and make it to the big iron gates that protected the dead from the living. Eddie thought it was kind of stupid for the gates to be there when there was a trail that led directly inside but he guessed that not many people knew about the back entrance. 

He was halfway down the path, about to go down another curve when movement out the corner of his eye had him pausing. Eddie froze, head snapping in that direction. All the stories that Wayne had told him raced through his mind, every possible monster he had ever heard of suddenly becoming a real life possibility. 

Instead of a monster, he saw you. You sat on your knees in front of a gravestone, legs bent and head dropped low. Your face was shielded by the night time shadows. Eddie thought it was strange to see you there, alone in the middle of the night. He heard you let out a sniffle, the unmistakable sound of you crying. 

He thought that maybe he should just ignore you and go on his way, pretending that he never saw you here. 

But it was late, and dark. And you were obviously distressed and alone in a cemetery. Eddie didn’t think of himself as much of a hero, but he didn’t feel right just leaving you all alone without checking on you first. 

“Hey! You okay?” He called out, still keeping his distance. 

You jumped, head slowly lifting up to look at him. His breath caught in his throat when he took in your face. You were so beautiful. Your face changed from sadness to surprise as you stared at Eddie with wide eyes. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, walking closer to you like a moth drawn to a flame. Each foot moved automatically in front of the other to bring him closer to you. “I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He stood behind the stone you sat at now, switching his weight between both feet while he waited for you to answer. You gave him a strange look that he couldn’t decipher, like you were completely in shock that he was talking to you. 

Up close, you were even more beautiful. Eddie would even dare to describe your beauty as haunting. The moon lit your skin in an unnatural way, making you the brightest thing in this dark place. You wore a white dress and polished heels. Your choice in clothing made Eddie concerned. It was definitely too cold to be out in that. 

“I’m fine,” you said slowly, mouth forming the words in an odd way. You stood gracefully to face him. 

“What are you doing out here alone? Aren’t you cold?” He asked, about to strip off his leather jacket to hand over to you. Eddie was shivering under his jacket, the temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees. 

You put a single hand up, stopping his movements. “I’m not cold.” 

“Are you sure?” Eddie checked with a raised brow and pursed lips. 

You just nodded silently at him, eyes looking him up and down. You seemed skittish, like you wanted to run.

“You’re just dressed a little funny for the cold,” Eddie commented and then immediately regretted it. Because of course he would meet a pretty girl and then blow it by telling her she’s dressed funny. 

Instead of getting mad, you smiled a wide smile at him. “I think my dress is funny too. Definitely not my favorite.”

Eddie laughed, wondering why you were wearing it then but he didn’t ask. 

“Uh, sorry for your loss,” he said, pointing down at the headstone you stood in front of. 

You shrugged a shrug of indifference. “Thank you.” 

“You, uh, come out to the cemetery in the middle of the night often?” Eddie asked awkwardly. 

You laughed, looking surprised at yourself for it. “Unfortunately.” 

Eddie knew he wasn’t doing a very good job at flirting but he made you laugh and that had to be a good thing. Maybe you would think his clumsy flirting was charming.  

“I’m Eddie Munson,” he introduced himself, sticking his hand over the headstone to shake yours. 

You just stared at his hand with a sheepish smile, making no move to shake it. You did tell him your first and last name as well though. Eddie dropped his hand and shoved it into his pocket, embarrassed. 

“Are you from around here? I’ve never seen you before.” He would definitely remember you. 

“Lived here my whole life. How about you?”

Hawkins was a small town, where everyone basically knew everyone else in some way and he didn’t recognize you at all. Your last name seemed familiar but he couldn’t place it off the top of his head. You looked to be the same age as him but maybe you were homeschooled. Why would you lie about growing up here? 

“I moved to Hawkins when I was twelve. I live with my uncle down at the trailer park.” 

“Oh, Hawkins has a trailer park?” 

Eddie looked at you confused. Of course Hawkins had a trailer park. It had been there forever. Everyone knew about it since it was the butt of many jokes around town. 

You noted the confused expression on Eddie’s face. “Sorry. I don’t get out much,” you explained shyly, tucking your face to your chest. 

So, you were definitely homeschooled or something, Eddie thought. 

“Shit,” Eddie hissed, looking down at his watch. “I’m late for something I’ve got to go. Do you wanna walk out with me?” 

“I think I’ll stay here a little longer,” you said with a sad smile. “It was nice to meet you, Eddie Munson. Thanks for talking with me.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?” Eddie asked as he backed away, careful not to trip over a headstone and embarrass himself even more in front of you. 

“Maybe,” you said, watching as he left. 

Eddie turned, making his way to the tall cemetery gates. He turned to cast one last glance at you but didn’t see you anymore. He figured that maybe you were hidden behind a stone and he couldn’t see you from this angle. 

The gates were locked with a chain and padlock, making Eddie have to jump over the fence. It was almost too tall and he barely made it over, nearly ripping his pants on a metal spike. It made him wonder how you even got in in the first place. There was no way you could have made that jump without hurting yourself in a dress and heels. Eddie thought that maybe you walked down the same path he did, but that path started in the trailer park that you didn’t seem to know about. 

There had to be another way then. 

Eddie made it to his deal super late but ended up calling Rick from a pay phone and catching a ride with him so he wouldn’t have to walk back through those damn creepy woods. 

A week later, Eddie found himself thinking about you a lot. 

You were kind of weird, but in a good way. He felt bad for leaving you in that cemetery alone, he should have stayed with you to make sure you were safe. He wished he would have asked for your number or something so he could check on you to make sure you made it home alright. 

He had even mentioned you to Steve and Robin but neither of them had heard your name before. They also thought it was weird that you had been out there alone in the middle of the night but the conversation changed as quickly as it started to something else with the topic of you long forgotten. 

Eddie found himself walking through the same trail, heading back to the cemetery. You said you went there a lot and he was hoping to catch you again, hopefully get to know you more. You seemed a little scared last time he was there, he wished you’d want to talk to him again. 

He practically ran through the woods, narrowly avoiding the same root he tripped over last time. 

When he reached the cemetery he headed straight to the grave stone you were at last time. Disappointment filled him when he realized that you weren’t there that night and that he had walked through the creepy woods for nothing. 

The stone looked old, with dirt and moss covering most of it. He shined his flashlight on it, noting the crack that ran through the top of it. Dead weeds surrounded the base of the stone, clearly allowed to overgrow in the warm months.

This one had been here for a while and looked to be long abandoned. There were no flowers, or pretty decorations like the other graves. He wondered how old it was, illuminating the year listed on it. 

 Eddie was about to give up and make the journey home when he happened to glance down at the name and froze, disbelief sinking in when he read your name on the headstone. 

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson request

[gingiesworld]

Family Ties (4/?)

Natasha Romanoff x Werewolf Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @natashasilverfox @the-ox-fan20 @upsidedowndanvers @purpleturtletragedy

18+ MINORS DNI

Nat was nervous from the moment she had stepped in the car with Clint, deciding to use his truck since Tony never had any tech within the electricals. Not wanting to give him any means to stop their search.

"So, Y/N is settling in?" Clint asked as the two drove down the back roads.

"Yeah, she has Wanda, Steve and Vision with her." She told him.

"Why do we have to keep all of this hidden from Tony?" He asked her as she looked at him.

"Tony was the one who wanted her locked up again." She told him. "Saying that she is not to be trusted."

"You have seen what has happened to those agents Nat, those animals had ripped them to shreds." Clint reasoned.

"Y/N has been with us for over a week." Nat told him. "If she was going to turn on any of us, she would have done it already."

"I'm just being realistic, Nat." He told her as they approached the first stop on the search. "We don't know what could happen, even while you aren't there."

"I trust her." She told him firmly.

"You're being naive." He told her as she just moved forward, searching for any sign of the Selene clan. It felt like hours of walking in the woods, finding nothing until they saw a child, only around 12 years old, run away. "Put that away." She told Clint who had his bow ready to fire, before she followed the child. Soon stopping as she stood before a man, who towered over her.

"Who are you?" He boomed as Nat gave a small smile.

"I am Natasha Romanoff. I work with the Avengers." She told them. "We are searching for my friend, Y/N's family."

"Y/N?" The woman who stood beside him whispered.

"Who do you think we are?" He asked her as Nat sighed.

"I was hoping you were Y/N's family." She told them honestly. "We recently rescued her from a Hydra base, she had been there for over a decade and she wants to be reunited with her family."

"What is her family name?" He questioned.

"Her name is Y/N Selene." Nat told them confidently. His eyes softened as he heard her confirm the feeling he had, he felt that his daughter was still alive.

"She's alive. After all of this time." He whispered.

"She is, we can bring you to her." Nat told him as he shook his head no.

"We can't trust you." He told her. "Maybe you could bring her here to us."

"I can do that." She told him as he stepped towards her. "What's that?" She asked as he moved towards her with a bracelet.

"This is the family crest." He told her. "It warms up when it is in the presence of a Selene, because we have to move around a lot, it may help you locate us. It burns hotter when there is more than one of us."

"I don't think that's wise." Clint told Nat who shook her head.

"It's not painful." Aaron told him. "If it were, she would be in pain right now."

"He's right Clint." Nat told him. "It's kind of a pleasant feeling." He just nodded as Nat turned back to Aaron. "We will see you soon sir."

"Thank you." He told her with a smile before Nat and Clint walked the way they had come.

"How can you trust them?" Clint questioned.

"They are just trying to survive Clint. They have hope of seeing Y/N again and I want to make sure that she has her family." She told him. "But you haven't had to see what it is like to leave your family involuntarily, or not know if they are alive or dead." He just looked around, anywhere but her because he knew she had a point. He made sure that no one knew of their existence with the help of Fury, their existence even remained off of the SHIELD database.

"Come on Y/N." Steve begged her. "Just one match."

"No." Y/N told him as she took a break from the punching bag.

"I am a super soldier." He told her as she shook her head.

"Super soldier or not, I am a deadly being and." She started as he gave her an understanding nod. "I just can't lose control. Not here. Not now." She looked at her hands. "They made me do things. Agents who never followed orders, I was the punishment, the wolf me anyway. I would rip them to shreds, from the moment they would attack me and try to leave my cell. I just can't do that. Not any more."

"That's ok Y/N." He told her softly. "We can just stick to training with weights and jogging."

"Yeah." She nodded as he patted her shoulder.

"You're a good kid." He told her as they moved to the kitchen together. "After everything you have been through, you are still compassionate." Y/N nodded before she headed into Nat's room, getting ready to use the shower as Wanda burst in.

"Oh shit." Wanda squealed before she covered her eyes.

"What's up Wanda?" Y/N asked as she turned to Wanda.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to help me cook dinner for everyone." She asked her shyly. "It's ok if you don't."

"It's not that, it's just I don't know how to cook." She told her honestly. "Being held captive for over a decade stops you from learning basic skills."

"I can teach you." Wanda told her excitedly. "I was going to cook chicken paprikash, it was a dish my mama always cooked when I was little."

"I'll be done soon." Y/N told her. "I can meet you in the kitchen." Wanda nodded with a smile before leaving the room, leaving Y/N to shower before joining her.

"So you're just going to tell Y/N." Clint asked Nat as she drove back to the compound.

"Yes." She told him.

"What if she leaves permanently?" He asked her. "What will you do?"

"I will be fine Clint." She told him. "I barely know her and she will be with her family where she belongs."

"Nat, I know there is more." He told her as she shook her head.

"Just drop it Clint." She snapped. "I know what you're insinuating, and I can't bring myself to be attached to her like that."

"It's ok to love her Nat." He told her. "I can see the way you look at her, how protective you are when you're around her."

"Just leave it." She snarled as he just nodded. She knew he was right but she just couldn't bring herself to think of the feelings she has right. She knows that Y/N wants to be with her family, regardless if it hurts her.

Wanda and Y/N stood side by side as she instructed Y/N on what she needed to do. Vision sat nearby listening to the two laugh together as they cooked.

"So now we just let it simmer." Wanda told her.

"That's it?" Y/N asked as Wanda nodded. "So what do we do now? Watch it?"

"No." Wanda laughed. "We can do whatever or clean up whatever mess we made. But we will have to stir it occasionally so it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan."

"Ok." Y/N moved to start cleaning as Tony walked into the kitchen, he scoffed as he saw Y/N at the sink.

"You have the mutt cleaning for us now?" He asked Wanda and Vision who soon stood up from his seat.

"I am not a mutt." Y/N murmured as she kept her eyes on the dishes in the sink.

"Sure you're not." He sneered as Wanda moved closer to Y/N.

"Leave now Tony." She told him.

"Wanda." Vision tried to calm Wanda down as she approached Tony.

"Leave now or I will throw you through the wall." She snarled as Tony just laughed.

"Do it, you will just end up in a cell next to her." He smirked as Wanda's eyes started to glow.

"Tony, go home." Steve ordered from behind him. "Go and see Pepper, have a break from the tower."

"Seriously?" He scoffed as he turned to Steve. "You're protecting the mutt?"

"Tony, I suggest you walk out of here before I break your legs myself." Steve told him as Tony just shook his head, mumbling under his breath as he soon disappeared.

Wanda turned to Y/N who was mumbling that she wasn't a mutt, repeating as her eyes were closed.

"It's ok Y/N." Wanda spoke softly. "You're safe Y/N."

"Take her to Nat's room Wanda." Vision told her. "I'll finish dinner." Wanda nodded as Steve and Vision finished with the dinner. Wanda helped Y/N to Nat's room, sitting her on the edge of the bed.

"You're safe Y/N." Wanda told her, taking her hand in hers as she made sure that Y/N knew she wasn't alone.

"I'm not a mutt." She spoke barely above a whisper with tears in her eyes.

"You're not a mutt Y/N." Wanda told her firmly. "You are a strong woman and Tony doesn't have a clue what he's talking about."

"Thank you." Y/N whispered as she wiped her tears. "Do you think that I could stay here if they can't find my family?"

"Of course." Wanda told her. "You will always have a home here, whenever you need it." Wanda shuffled to the pillows, grabbing the remote as Y/N followed suit. "Now, let's watch a movie and we can get Vision to bring dinner and snacks up to us." Y/N smiled as Wanda put on She's the Man, enjoying watching a teen comedy just to forget about her troubles. Not realising that Nat and Clint were on their way back with the news she wanted to hear so badly.

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