#I hate stacking this beer so so much

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[rafecameroninterlude]

Toxic!Rafe and toxic!reader, where they’re fighting because he wants to go out to a strip bar with Topper and Kelce which reader hates (she thinks they encourage his bad behavior) after she told him no. so when reader goes on insta to look at Rafes story and sees he lied and went anyways after seeing a pic of him in the sniffers row at the bar, she gets all crazy and starts responding to the story with full paragraphs 😭 and so when he starts replying she blocks him mid argument, and he goes home and yells at her until they get all lovey dovey again 🥰 (sorry this is long)

warnings: toxic relationship (?), slight humor, cussing, lying, crying, shouting, arguing, mentions of sex, a little plot twist at the end

“..i don’t know about that, man. y/n has a bitch fit everytime i go somewhere without her, i highly doubt she’d be okay with me going there of all places.” you stood outside your bedroom door, rolling your eyes at the sound of topper’s voice. “who cares what she says? she’s not your fuckin’ mommy, bro.” you suppressed a laugh, knowing rafe has called you ‘mommy’ a numerous amount of times. your boyfriend sighed, staying silent for a moment. “look, i’ll ask her alright? if she says no then i ain’t going.” you smiled to yourself, walking into the room with a fresh stack of t-shirts in your hands.

“here she is now, i’ll call you back.” you placed the folded laundry on top of the dresser. “tell the spawn of satan herself we say hello!” kelce shouted in the background. “aww is that dumb and dumber on the phone? hey, guys!” rafe shook his head, a laugh tumbling out of his throat. he hung up the call, getting up to wrap his arms around your waist. you leaned into him, breathing in his cologne as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “listen, uh, topper and kelce are inviting me out tonight, ‘wanted to know if i can join them..” you arched a brow, turning around in his hold.

“and where do y’all plan on going?” rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “well.. you know how the guys are, they always wanna go to some new place..” he trailed off, clearly stalling as much as he could. “just say it, rafe.” he swallowed nervously. “a strip club.” suddenly his hands felt tense on your skin, and he couldn’t hold your stare. “a strip club?” you repeated, pulling away from him. “that’s cute, but no.” rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, immediately taking out his phone.

[4:30 PM] to: topper, kelce: i’m in, pick me up at nine.

“what are you doing?” you eyed him as he brought the phone up to his ear, walking around to the other side of the bed. “m’telling them i can’t go, because you’re gonna be all pissed off if i do.” you scoffed, eyeing him carefully. rafe cursed under his breath, praying to god you couldn’t tell he wasn’t actually calling anyone. “hey, bro. i can’t go, it’s a hard no.” he scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, i know. maybe another time- wait, where?” rafe stopped pacing, nodding along to his own imagination. “pizza and beer? that sounds good. nine o’clock? alright i’ll see y’all then.” he shrugged as he pretended to hang up.

“alright, no strip club, but charlie’s pizza instead, is that alright?” you nodded. “that’s fine, but you better text me.” he jumped up, pulling you into a hug that ended with you two falling in bed. “i mean it rafe, i want pizza pictures and everything!” he showered you with kisses, taking his time when he got to your lips. you two stayed like that for a few minutes, making out softly before you pulled away. “you should start getting ready before i get too horny, ‘cause then i really won’t let you go anywhere.” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he got up. “good call.” he laughed, getting an outfit ready for tonight.

nine o’clock rolled around faster than you wanted it to, and sure enough topper and kelce were outside honking like maniacs once they pulled up. “i love you, baby, i’m gonna text you in a bit.” you smiled, watching him holler all the way down to where topper and kelce practically tackled him. “we promise to have him home no later than one, mommy dearest!” you gave kelce the middle finger, shutting the door once rafe blew you a kiss. now that you had the house to yourself you figured you’d shower and unwind, maybe finish the book you had been reading. all was well until you glanced at the time on your phone. 10:45 PM, and still no word from rafe.

you opened instagram, spotting the green circle around your boyfriend’s profile picture, indicating he had posted on his close friends. you clicked on it, your heart dropping at the video of rafe throwing money at a stripper’s ass. “front row seats, baby!” he cheered. just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next story was a photo of a blonde sitting in rafe’s lap, topless and smiling from ear to ear. “this motherfucker..” you closed the app, deciding you saw enough before opening you and rafe’s text thread on imessage.

[10:55 PM] - i don’t know what’s funnier; the fact that you had a whole conversation with yourself in front of me to make it sound like you were just getting pizza and beer with your dickhead friends, or forgetting to take me off your close friends list when you want to post yourself at some sleazy ass strip club. you’re a fucking joke.

rafe had never sobered up so fast in his life, all the blood draining from his face when he read your message. “fuck!” he cursed at himself, his head resting in his hands.

[11:10 PM] my <333: baby i promise i’ll explain everything, i’m telling the guys to take me home right now.

[11:15 PM] - there’s nothing you could say that’ll ‘explain’ what the fuck you did. you sat there in my face and kissed me and reassured me when you were getting your way all along. can you even comprehend how fucked up that is? you made me look stupid in front of your friends who already don’t like me. AND THE TOPLESS PICTURE???? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE???? if i posted a picture with my tits all in jj’s face, how would you feel? we both know he’s one phone call away if i really wanted him.

rafe’s blood was boiling after he read your message, knowing that you could leave him and have someone as desperate and lovesick as jj replace him in a heartbeat. “bro don’t sweat it, man. she’ll get over it.” topper slurred, entering figure eight again. “shut the fuck up, you don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.” rafe shot back, clenching his fists when the message he tried to send turned green. topper didn’t respond, the rest of the ride home being dead silent.

rafe didn’t even say bye to kelce or topper when they arrived at tanneyhill, instead he rushed inside, eyes immediately falling to you resting on the couch. you were wearing your pink, fluffy robe, rollers adorning your hair while you were typing something on your ipad. “babe-” rafe shut the door, falling to his knees before you. “don’t get near me. you probably smell disgusting.” rafe’s jaw ticked, his patience already running low. “i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have lied to you, baby. i promise i’ll never do that again.” you finally looked at him, his bangs falling in his face.

“i know,” you sighed, “you don’t have to worry about me doing anything either.” you got up, attempting to walk past him before he grabbed your leg. “what are you talking about?” you knew rafe well enough to know when he was getting angry, and the way he was looking at you right now only confirmed your suspicions. “you don’t get to do what you did and think it’s all going to be fine and dandy with an apology, rafe. i’m leaving for my parents tomorrow, and don’t ask me when i’m coming back because i don’t know. i don’t think i can live with a liar.” you shoved him away, only making him grab you again, this time throwing you down on the couch.

“you don’t think you could live with a liar?” he narrowed his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “has it ever occurred to you that i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just not freak the fuck out everytime i want to go out and have fun?” you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “you’re one to talk!” you screamed in his face, making him stand up. you followed suit, refusing to let him make you feel powerless. “you wanna act like you’re trapped here? fine! play the victim, but don’t forget everything you do to keep me from going out too.” you were pacing back and forth now, running your fingers through your hair.

“you literally slashed my friend’s tires to keep me from going to her birthday party, and all for what? because you found out other guys were going to be there?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i paid for the damages, y/n…” he groaned. “so?! it’s the principal! you do the most when it comes to me wanting to go somewhere, but me telling you not to go to a literal strip club is where you draw the line?? fuck you!” you started making your way upstairs, rafe right on your tail as you did so.

“fuck me?! i’m the one who takes care of you! there’s nothing in this world that you want and don’t have! i take you on regular vacations, i take you out damn near everyday, i keep you in all the newest shit, i pay for you and all your friend’s beauty appointments so that y’all could have a girl’s day twice a month, you just have no fucking clue!” he shouted, making you stop in your tracks. you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, breaking his heart in two.

“and what about everything i do for you?” you let out a shaky breath. “i’m what makes this house a home. i wear the clothes you want me to wear, i eat the food you want me to eat, i talk the way you want me to talk. i’m here when all else fails. i’m the one who holds you and comforts you when things get hard for you. i’m the one who makes sure you never feel alone, ‘makes sure you don’t go through anything alone. i do everything you say. on the days you work long and hard, i’m right here waiting for you with my legs open. on the days that you’re particularly tired, i’ll be on my knees, i’ll ride you and do all the work, and i’ll do everything happily because i love you.” rafe was crying with you by the time you finished speaking, both of you standing in the hallway.

“i get up at the ass crack of dawn and doll myself up everyday because i want to look good for you, i want to please you with everything i do. when we go to the country club, i speak of you in the highest regards, and i do it because i want everyone to know that i respect you. i do all of this, and i do it all without the commitment of having a fucking ring on my finger. if that doesn’t speak volumes for you, then i don’t know what does.” you walked inside your shared bedroom, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. he dropped to his knees once again, hugging your waist like you’d disappear if he let go. “we need each other. i need you.” he cried. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him up off the floor.

“i love you, y/n. please, you can’t leave.” you cupped his face. “i haven’t seen my parents in almost six months, rafe. i have to..” he nodded slowly, taking your hand in his. “then we’ll go together. ‘tell them we have a special announcement.” you watched him with a confused expression as he went to grab a small box out the bottom drawer of the bedside table. “rafe!” you gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth. “i’ve had this for a while now, i don’t know what i was waiting for, but i want to do this now.” he opened the box, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen lighting up your eyes.

“i know we have to work on some things, but there’s no one else i’d rather do this with.” you gazed into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “okay, let’s do it.”

[roosterforme]

Alone With All Your Letters | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You had been with Jake for so long, he could barely remember himself without you. But he was ready for more, and he was tired of waiting for you to catch up to him. With a few ugly words, he broke your heart. And with one handwritten letter, you brought him to his knees. 

Warnings: Angst, smut, age gap, fluff, talk of pregnancy, 18+

Length: 3700

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

You had been with Jake for a long time. Almost seven years to be exact. And while he loved you and knew he wanted to be with you, sometimes it was hard for him to come to terms with the fact that you and he were still at slightly different places in your lives. 

He'd met you when you were still in college. College. And he had been... a bit removed from school by that point. He had been new to Top Gun and San Diego when you slammed into his life. You were out celebrating your twenty first birthday at the same bar where he was celebrating his thirty third. You were clearly mortified when you ruined his shoes with a pitcher of spilled beer. But when he laughed, you looked so relieved, he let you buy him a drink.

And then you let him buy you several. And then you let him get you an Uber. And then he joined you in the Uber and spent the rest of the weekend at your apartment.

"Jake?" you asked, holding up two dresses next to your shared closet in his house. "Which one for brunch?"

They were both short and would show off your legs. Jake would get looks from other guys his age when he kissed your neck or wrapped his arm around your waist. He would get the occasional, "Nice going, bro." Or even the, "Daaamn." 

You were young. You were hot. But Jake would much rather spend the day at home relaxing with you instead of heading out to a boozy brunch with your friends. Especially the day before an eight week deployment. 

"The blue one, Honey," he told you with a soft smile. As he watched you get changed, he stood and tried to choose a shirt for himself. But he was tired of helping you pick out outfits and trying to coordinate how his shirts looked with your dresses. It didn't matter. It was exhausting. 

And that was the trade-off for being in love with someone twelve years younger. He was in love with a woman who loved him back with every fiber of her being, but he was also in love with a woman who put off the things he wanted to do. He no longer wanted rowdy beach vacations and dancing all night in clubs. He wanted to go to Europe and visit galleries. He no longer wanted to go out to eat every night. He wanted to stay in with you and make a meal together. 

He always felt the clash. Always felt like he was conceding with what he wanted for what you wanted. And it had never been more obvious than when he asked you a few years ago if you ever wanted to have kids. 

"Sure, Jake," you had told him, kissing his cheek. "I love kids. But not yet. In another year or two."

He hated bringing it up, he really did. But your answer was always the same. In another year or two. But it had been three years, going on four. And nothing you were doing was telling him you were getting close to that point yet. 

But he got dressed for this brunch that he didn't want to go to. And he held the door and talked to your friends and drank a mimosa. But he just wanted to be at home, enjoying the last day before he shipped out on an aircraft carrier. 

Later that night, Jake watched you change into some lacy, light pink lingerie that looked delicious on you. And then you made a big production of avoiding his grasp with a laugh. 

"Wait a second," you told him, pushing him playfully away. "I have to put something in your duffle bag." He unbuttoned his shirt as you rooted around in your nightstand drawer and pulled out a stack of envelopes just like you always did. "Make sure you read them in order," you whispered, bending to tuck them into his bag.

"I always do, Honey. Now come here." 

You treated him to your mouth and your hands and your pussy, letting him have whatever he asked for. And he fell asleep wrapped around your body, listening to you say, "I love you, Jake. I'll miss you so much."

But the next morning, he felt anxious in that way where he knew he needed to say something again. He'd be arriving back in port just before his fortieth birthday. He knew he was getting older. He knew what he wanted. But if there was never going to be a compromise with the timeline, then he needed to be the one to make the decision for both of you.

As you stood before him on the dock, tears in your eyes and your arms around his neck, he couldn't hold the words back. "Honey. I love you, but... I don't know if this is working for me anymore."

He watched your face fall and your lips part into a look of shock. Your voice was only a desperate whisper. "Jake?"

This was miserable, but he had to do it. He swallowed his guilt and said, "I don't know what to do here. I don't know if you're even happy with where we are, but I'm struggling. I'm about to be forty. I'm tired of going out all the time. I'm tired of waiting another year and another year and another year to get serious about kids. I love you, and I want to do that with you, but I can't force you. So if we aren't on the same page any longer, then maybe we need to end things."

Your lips were quivering, and your eyes were welling up with even more tears as you let your arms fall away from his body. You stepped backwards, putting some distance between the two of you. Your gaze started to change from one of sadness to one of anger. And Jake regretted it. He regretted everything he just said, but it was too late to take it back. So he stood there in it and let the disgusting feeling of remorse wash over him. 

"Honey-"

But his name was being called now, and you stepped away again when he reached for you. "Goodbye, Jake," you whispered, your voice rough with unshed tears as you swiped at your eyes. 

He turned and walked toward the long, daunting ramp that would take him to his deployment and away from you. Perhaps forever. Every time he turned back to look at you, there were more tears in your eyes, but you hadn't moved an inch. When he made his way onto the carrier deck, he dropped his bag and pulled out his phone. 

Jake called you over and over, watching you standing on the dock as you ignored his calls before tucking your phone away. He called your name, screamed it over the noise from the crowd of people seeing their loved ones off. He hollered until his voice was hoarse. And then he got his phone out again, waiting with shaking hands until he got your voicemail. 

He was looking right at you, and you were looking back at him as he said, "Honey, please. I'm so sorry. Please. I didn't mean any of it. I love you. I need you. I need you to be there when I get home. Please! Fuck! I'm sorry. Please stop ignoring my calls! I love you."

With shaking hands, he ended the call and redialed your number. Once again he watched you ignore the call, so he left you voicemail after voicemail as the aircraft carrier pulled away from the dock. He apologized as many ways as he could until your inbox was full and you were just a speck in the distance. 

Jake collected himself off of the deck and made his way to his tiny bunk where he sank down onto the unmade bed and cried. What was he thinking? If he had to choose between a life with you or one without you, he wanted to choose you. He fucked up, and now there was no way you were going to listen to him. There was no way you'd be there when he got home. 

He just broke your heart and then his own with a handful of idiotic sentences that he said in place of having an actual conversation with you. If he ever accused you of being less mature than he was, well, he was wrong about that, too. This had to be the dumbest thing he had ever done. 

"Fuck," he groaned as he started unpacking his bag. But your letters to him were right there, and he thought he was going to throw up as he untied the stack and took the top envelope in his hands. 

That would be your revenge in a way. He would spend his deployment opening all of your sweet notes to him. You always did this, and he always loved reading them. But now he'd let them hurt. He would let himself feel pain. 

But he was in no way prepared for what he read in that first letter.

Jake,

I miss you already! I'm probably still on the dock waving and crying, watching you sail away. Eight weeks isn't forever, but I know every day is going to feel impossible without you. And I know you'll feel the same way. So let me send you off with a little bit of hope and a promise. When I told you I had a last minute appointment on Wednesday, I had my IUD removed. And I didn't get another one in its place. I'm ready. When you get back in two months, let's go for it. Let's make you a Daddy.

All my love

He folded the note back up as neatly as you had, and then he tucked it back inside the envelope and sprawled across the bed with his forearm over his eyes. And he didn't move for a long time.

---------------------

Jake was basically useless out of the cockpit. He flew his missions, and completed his training exercises, but he had to force himself to eat and go to the gym. There was no outside communication allowed this time around, so he had no way to talk to you, not that you would have answered your phone for him. 

To make things worse, he'd been rationing your letters to him, spreading out the pain, prolonging the agony. Each one was sweeter than the last, and each one made him ache. But he read that first letter every night before he went to sleep. Because, for the briefest point in time, he'd had everything he wanted. And now he had, well, essentially nothing. And because he had nobody to go home to, the weeks were flying by. He was nearing the end now. Nearing his fortieth birthday, and wishing he could just stay for another deployment. 

Silently, he packed his bag that final morning, but he held onto your letters, wanting to feel their weight in his hand. After nearly seven years of having you standing on the dock waiting for him to arrive home, he was going to have to call himself a cab. He'd go home and process things the best he could without you, but first he would stand there and watch everyone else fall into the arms of their loved ones. 

Jake tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder and wound his way down the ramp. He took a deep breath as his boots hit California soil, and he walked slowly into the crowd of people on the dock. The evening sun was still bright and hot as he was jostled around by all of the bodies. Choruses of 'I missed you!' and 'I love you so much!' rang out around him. When he closed his eyes, he could practically hear your voice, that's how well he remembered every single time you collected him here, took him home, and made love to him. 

But when he opened his eyes, he gasped. You were standing off toward the back of the crowd, face expressionless as the setting sun illuminated your features and your yellow sundress. The color of honey. Why were you here? To have your chance at telling him off? Or perhaps... 

"Honey?" he called out, suddenly shoving his way through the crowd. "Honey!" He rushed to you as quickly as he could, but you didn't move an inch. The only thing that changed was your expression, which was turning more apprehensive as he closed in. 

"Jake," you whispered when he was right in front of you. He hated the look you were giving him. There was an awful sensation in the pit of his stomach, a mix of wanting to reach out to hold you, but terrified of the rejection you were probably about to rightfully hit him with. 

"Honey. I fucked up."

You nodded, and the softest smile found its way to your lips. "You really did, Jake."

He dropped his bag to the ground. "Even if you're only here to slap me in the face, will you listen to me for a minute first?" When you nodded, he said, "I was frustrated. I'm getting older. I'm getting old for my career. I'm getting old to have a kid. And I feel at times like I'm too old for you to be satisfied with me."

"Jake, that's not true," you insisted, eyes bright with tears. When he ran his fingers along your jaw you didn't stop him. 

"Whether it's true or not, it's in my head. And I can't get it out," he whispered. "But I love you. I want to be with you. As soon as I told you otherwise, I regretted every single word, Honey. I didn't have to read any of your letters to know I had just made the worst mistake of my life. I didn't even make it all the way onto the carrier before I was calling you."

"I know," you whispered as one stray tear slid down your cheek. "I know you didn't read the note before you called me. I was watching you the whole time."

Jake brushed the tear away, fighting the urge to press his lips to that spot. "Then why didn't you answer me?" he asked softly. 

"Because I was mad. I'm still kind of mad at you. Either I'm enough, or I'm not. What if I can't even have kids? You were just going to leave me?"

"No," he swore, shaking his head. "The fact that you said you were willing to try with me is more than enough. Okay? You're more than enough, Honey. I love you."

You swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I'd catch up to where you were someday. I never lied to you, Jake. So next time don't try to rush me into something, okay?"

He reached for your hand. "Next time?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Don't fuck up again."

"Does that mean you'll stay with me?" he asked, desperation in his voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

"Yes."

Jake pulled you against him, his lips meeting your forehead as he squeezed you. He let himself cry out all of the pain and hopelessness he had contained the best he could for the past eight weeks as you held him.

-------------------------

Today was his birthday. Forty. Jake was pretty sure he was on the verge of needing reading glasses, and sometimes his shoulder hurt when he got out of bed if he slept funny. But last night he slept funny because you were wrapped around him in bed. So it was worth it.

Things had been a little shaky after you picked him up at the end of his deployment a week ago. He'd begged you to stay with him in his house and work through things. You'd been living with him for so long, he honestly couldn't imagine his place without you anymore. You were having open conversations together, and Jake was finally starting to feel like things were getting back to normal. 

But he hadn't asked you once about your IUD, thinking maybe you'd changed your mind when he was deployed, after he word vomited all of his insecurities on you. No, he wasn't going to mention anything about birth control until you brought it up. So quite frankly, he wasn't quite sure if you and he had had sex with or without birth control last night. 

Jake went through his day, hoping that when he got home from work, you'd be there. And that maybe today would be the day you'd make it clear what you wanted now.

"Honey?" he called out after he unlocked his front door. 

"I'm in the bedroom, birthday boy!"

Jake smiled and headed toward your voice, stopping short in the doorway. You were perched on the edge of his desk wearing that light pink lingerie he loved so much. There was a cupcake on a plate next to you, and as he approached, he watched you strike a match and light the candle. Then you pursed your pretty lips to blow out the match, and Jake was right there. He kissed you, raking his fingers along your soft skin, so thankful you were with him. 

"Happy birthday," you managed between kisses.

"You look like my present, wrapped up all pretty."

Your soft laughter filled him up. "I actually got you a watch, but sure, I can be your present." You hopped down from the desk and ran your hands along the front of his uniform before taking his hand. As you led him toward the bed, you looked back at him, your eyes unguarded. "I'm still figuring out my cycles now," you muttered, shrugging nervously, "but I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating today."

"Honey," Jake groaned. "Say it. Please, say it."

But instead of saying anything, you crawled across the bed, letting him see your gorgeous ass. And when you eased yourself down onto your back and spread your legs wide, you asked him, "Don't you want to fuck a baby into me?"

Jake's eyes went wide as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside along with his undershirt. Then he eased himself down onto the bed, grabbing the backs of your thighs and kissing your core through the lace.

"Say it," he begged, watching you bite your lip and press your head back into the bedding. "Honey."

"I'm ready, Jake. I'm ready to make you a daddy."

With those words, Jake drew your legs back together and gently removed your underwear, letting the lace glide along your soft skin. And when he eased your legs apart again, he groaned. "You're perfect. I can't get enough." He pressed his lips and nose to your pussy, inhaling your sweet scent as he stroked your hips and belly with both hands. 

He could already picture you round and pregnant. He'd been imagining how beautiful you would be as a mom for years and years. When he kissed your belly button, you pushed your fingers through his hair. There was nobody else he'd ever wanted to do this with. 

When he met your eyes, there was a smile playing on your lips as you whispered, "Jake, we're going to have to do this all the time now. You know that, right?"

He groaned softly as he unclasped your bra and let his lips settle on your tits. "Yeah, I know," he told you, running his nose along the undersides of your breasts. "I'll fuck you full of my cum, nice and deep. Keep you full for as long as it takes."

"Oh, fuck," you gasped as he sucked on your nipples and unzipped his uniform pants. And then he was thrusting inside you, and the little sounds you made were the filthiest things he'd ever heard. He went harder, deeper, thinking about how he'd make sure you always had his cum inside you. How you'd smell like him. How he'd be on you all the time. 

"You're gonna look perfect carrying my child," he whispered, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Everyone will know what I did to you. Everyone will know how bad I wanted it."

The way you responded to him was too much. Your back was arched, and he could feel you tightening around him. "Everyone will know," you echoed in a moan. "They'll know you fuck me so good, Jake."

His forehead came to rest against yours as he panted. "You ready?" he grunted. "I'll fill you up right now."

"Yes," you whispered, taking his fingers and guiding them to your clit. With a few slow circles, he had you whining and squirming as you started to climax.

"Stay still, Honey," he whispered, his voice rough now. "Keep it all inside."

You were keening from his words and your orgasm as Jake filled you with his cum. "Fuck," you whined, and it was so loud and needy, he rammed his cock deep and held you to him while he pulsed inside you.

"Don't move, don't move," he whispered, kissing and licking your tits as your fingers stroked through his hair. "Don't waste it."

He was in love with you and the feel of your body. You wanted what he wanted. He would make it his mission to get you pregnant. 

"God, Jake." Your voice was raw and harsh as you said, "I'm getting your creampies around the clock now, aren't I?"

He lifted your hips gently off the bed and watched as he slowly withdrew himself from your pretty pussy as you whined softly. And when his cum started to dribble out of you, he gently fucked you with two fingers, pushing it deeper. "Around the clock," he confirmed. "Now let me eat my birthday cupcake and then I'll fill you up again."

You ended up sitting naked on Jake's lap and laughing while you had to pick the melted wax off of the icing. Then you fed him the cupcake, sneaking a bite for yourself as his cum oozed out of you and onto his khaki pants. He'd fuck you full again later. He'd keep doing it as long as it took.

"Happy birthday, Daddy," you whispered.

----------------------

I wrote Jake again? It's becoming a habit now. Thanks for reading this one! And thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[maikissed]

jude bellingham x reader

„Grab me one as well, will you?” your friend called after you when you decided to go find yourself a cold drink.

The sunny weather relenting, yet the higher temperature still palpable even at this hour. A rather rare occurrence, even at this time of the year. It was pleasant, everyone enjoyed themselves this summer. You stepped out of a quite tight group of people to spot a long table full of snacks and mini fridges stacked along. A beer, you pondered? But your face fell in an instant as you noticed two male figures seated right next to the alcoholic beverages and there was a moment when you took a step to turn around but reconsidered, at last. Let’s not be this petty, for once. Huffing under your breath you strode straight at them, flashing a boy named Tanner a smile, pretending not having a reaction at somebody’s curious gaze, glancing over you up and down.

“Hi Tanner, Jude” you murmured eyeing the drinks trying to pick which one you would enjoy. You hesitated. Why was it so hard?

You flexed your hand. A problem with Jude Bellingham was that you hated his guts. An immense example of excessive ego, tormenting self-confidence and raging impudence framed in a pretty face that made your blood boil whenever you did as much as look into his eyes. And the most annoying of things was that you could never expect whatever might come out of his mouth.

A quick glance his way, a mistake, little cocky smirk visible on his lips. A pool was quite close, maybe you would have the chance to push him into it as the night goes by. But now he was seated on a foldable chair, like the fishing chairs one, a choice of beer standing next to his right elbow, his head on the level of your waist.

“May I be of assistance?” he asked, his eyes shining as he looked up at you.

“You can move” you tutted.

It was probably visible, how stiff you stood. Your hands placed on your hips. He looked over his shoulder.

“You can reach ‘em”

“Two Stellas, would you?” you shifted from one foot to the other.

You hated this beer. It was actually the first one you’ve spotted.

He smiled, rather softly, and grabbed the bottles with one hand. You noticed a cola can in his left grip. Of course, he rarely drinks anything of alcohol.

“Nice legs, don’t get to see these quite often” he murmured as you reached to get your bottles, almost prepared to say a polite thank you but there it was again. An unexpected comment that made your left eye twitch. Your skirt suddenly way to short for your liking. And he was seated, enjoying a very good view.

“Have a good look then” you snickered “Might be the last time”

He laughed at your comment, his perfect white teeth showing, and a hot wave flashed under your skin.

“I will, thank you” he nodded before you spun around to find your friends “See you around, angel face!” he shouted at your back and without even thinking about it, you waved a middle finger at him, glad that you were far away right now to breath steadier.

You hated that nickname.

Sally hated the beer you collected as well. But it was quickly forgotten as you turned into a different selection of drinks later that night. Heads lighter, bodies buzzing with warmth even after the temperature dropped a few hours later.

“They’re doing body shots!” Sally gasped and not even a second later you felt her tugging you into a small group of people near the bar.

You laughed at the sight.

“Wanna try?” you tempted her, eyeing a tall girl putting salt on a girls cleavage.

Tequila shot, you thought to yourself. Quite kinky shit for your taste.

“Fun, let’s do it” she jumped and before you could even register the course of events, she forced you down on a tall table.

You resisted, grabbing her forearms to stand up, feeling stressed, but you could already see the smile on the tall girl standing next to you, encouraging you to lay down.

“You bitch” you laughed with your eyes wide as Sally whispered something to Dominic who appeared at her side suddenly.

You’ve never done this before and it stressed you at first but you were already on this goddamned table so you just lied down, your eyes glued to the bartender girl.

“Cleavage or belly?” she asked with a sweet voice and you gasped, lost for words for a second before you nodded at her.

“Belly”

Rising your top a little you relaxed, but she still moved the material even higher on your body. You chuckled to yourself. You felt a bit stupid. At the corner of your eye you could spot Dominic moving around the table, probably to be the one who will take the shot, you thought, so you relaxed even more since it would not be that bad if it would be your friend who’ll take it. The tall girl used an ice cube to moisten your skin a little before putting a short line of salt on it. Just right after, a piece of lemon was placed between your teeth and finally, as she was pouring the liquor into your belly button, you took your eyes off her actions to look to your left. And instantaneously you froze when it was in fact not Dominic standing right at the table but the motherfucking Jude Bellingham himself, his dark eyes boring into yours, sly smirk forming upon his lips as he observed your reaction. You almost protested but the lemon blocked your lips from moving and your limbs turned to stone as you were processing what was actually going on. Your skin buzzed, you breathed hard through your nose, your eyes narrowed angrily as you realised he was absolutely enjoying this. And he was going to enjoy it to the fullest. With his hands clasped behind his back he leaned down, his eyes not leaving yours on the way and you shuddered at the weight of his gaze. You averted your gaze when the tip of his tongue met your skin, slowly collecting the trail of salt from your skin. But the moment his lips sucked gently around your belly button your muscles tensed and you closed your eyes at the hefty, overwhelming feeling that almost paralyzed you down from your waist. Your mind hazy, your breath shallow, you opened your eyes just at the moment when he leaned down to grab the lemon straight from your lips. He looked at it for a short second before he bit it, making sure that his lips made a slight contact with yours. You blinked, absolutely electrified against your will. What the hell just happened?

“Up, baby” the tall brunette sang to you and you flinched a little, hoisting yourself up on the surface.

That infuriating boy stood there still, his hand outstretched for you to take it, with intention to help you get down. Simply accepting it, you placed your fingers in his hand and there was some kind of triumph painting on his features that made many sensations rumble inside you, something trying desperately to get out of you. The simplest way? Through the mouth.

“I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face, Bellingham” you spat, a tad breathless.

But his smile turned wider and he chuckled under his breath. His fingers reached for the material of your top to pull it down to it’s proper state, covering still exposed parts of your body. It surprised you, his flesh on yours creating a wave of goose bumps on it’s track.

“I love seeing you get so riled up when a little provoked”

You gasped. A little provoked? What a pesky ass.

He took a step as if with intention to pass you, yet he lowered his head right next to your ear.

“You have no idea how much I want to put my tongue in different places on your body”

Fucking hell.

-

“You know y/n, I think Jude has a thing for you” Dominic’s point made you frown in question as you seated yourself in the back of his car.

Turned out he was the driver tonight.

“A thing?” Sally snorted, taking her eyes away from the mirror seated on the visor in front of her “He’s trying to fuck her and she’s playing hard to get”

“That’s not true!” you protested angrily “He lives to annoy and torment me”

“Ahh, it’s so fifth grade, you little babies. Wait ‘till he starts pulling on your ponytails” she mocked you, making Dominic laugh out loud.

“Oh, he can do that for sure” Dominic made a visual impression of doggy-style fucking, his hips moving back and forth on the seat, his hand up imitating hair pulling, sounds like groaning coming from his mouth.

“Ay, ay!” you shouted, trying to jam Sally’s loud laughter filling the car “Shut up fuckheads. I’m done with your shit. What are we even waiting for anyway?”

But before you could get your answer the back door opened and you heard voices coming from outside.

“Go in first, babes? I don’t like sitting in the middle” a high female voice reached your ears and you rolled your eyes because of fucking course Dominic agreed to take Jude and his cute little addition on your ride home. You didn’t mind Lyla, she just talked too much to the point of being slightly annoying.

Moving to the left you made space for them, already furious with the fact that you had to deal with this boy still. Sally gave you one last look before turning away and you huffed as one of Jude’s legs collided with yours as he slumped down next to you.

“Must you take all of the space?” you burked as Dominic sped off the driveway.

“Sorry princess, there’s not much of it”

You did not dare to look his way, feeling his heat on the side of your body you focused to keep your composure. His words from earlier still ringing in your ear, making you nervous and edgy. You feared every single sensation that awoke inside of you as you replayed them in your head. Minutes passed by with Dominic’s techno music playing from the speakers, Lyla’s blabbering and Sally’s throw ins every once in a while. You were under the impression that this ride already lasted a lifetime. You’ve been finally able to relax a bit before you felt Jude’s hands sneaking down around your knee, his fingers resting on the inside of your calf. You jumped a little, but his attention was still on Lyla’s talking. Sneaky bastard. Gentle trails he started to draw on your skin made you give his side a hard nudge but it did not discourage him. You readjusted your position and his hand was still there, his head turned to the other direction, acting utterly fascinated by the stories of his companion, so you kicked his ankle as forcefully as you could to bring his attention to you. But to no avail. Actually, his hand moved higher, as much as the position let him to still keep it discreet, and he squeezed the back of your thigh, just above the knee. It was dark but you could see it, his fingers wrapped around your leg and you looked up as you realised Sally with Domenic got involved in some heated discussion about upcoming concerts in your city with Lyla.

“If you won’t take your hand off of me I’ll brake every single bone in your fingers” you hissed in Jude’s ear, your face centimetres from his when he turned your way.

Accepting your words as a dare he shot you a mischievous smile and moved his hand up, visibly placing it on the top and inside of your thigh and you panicked so terribly, quickly grabbing your little sweater to cover his hand placed so high between your legs. You did not want your friends to notice, what he was doing was outrageous and you jumped, pressing your legs together. Tantalizingly, disturbingly the skin on your thigh, your neck and cheeks begun to burn and you took it as an awful sign of the fact that it turned you on so badly, you wanted to move and make more space for his fingers to proceed higher and higher, until…

His face inches from your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“You will have to finish it yourself, angel face. Feel free to call me if you need help”

[neptuneiris]

True Intentions | (One-shot)

Be the only one or be an 'sometimes'?

pairing: modern!aemond (best-friend brother) × fem!reader

summary: even knowing his reputation, you've always had a little secret crush on the most popular boy in school, Aemond Targaryen, until it becomes impossible to hide it when your brother Cregan makes friends with him and you begin to see him more frequently.

word count: 9.0k

I'm very excited about this!

I hope you really like it, I loved writing this even though it took me a while, but here it is finally:) comments and reblogs are appreciated beautiful people, thank you so much for reading!❤

warning's: language, slight angst, mention of alys, sexual content, spanking.

You always hated it when your brother Cregan brought his friends over to your house when your parents were away, whether it was to watch soccer games, play video games or have some fun at the pool.

You especially were never the type of sister to bring friends over, rather you were the type of sister who preferred to go to friends' houses, as you never mentioned your house as an option.

It just wasn't comfortable for you.

And apparently it wasn't enough for your brother and his friends to see each other almost daily at school that they also had to go to your house.

But you couldn't really do anything, he's the older brother and it wouldn't make any difference to accuse him to your parents since logically there's nothing wrong with him inviting his friends over, besides they work almost all the time and probably wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

So you can only lock yourself in your room with food as a provision, put on your AirPods and wait for them to leave.

And that's what you do, all the while Cregan and his friends prowl around your house. But you reach your breaking point when again Cregan plans a pool party.

"Are you serious?" you inquire, clearly annoyed, "I swear to God, Cregan, this is not going to happen again."

"Oh come on," he gives you a tired look, tossing balloons and animal inflatables into the pool, "Live a little, sis."

"No! You always do this, the same old shit!"

You reproach him as you follow him back into the house, where at the kitchen island is a stack of beers that he begins to store in the fridge completely disinterested to your clear dissatisfaction with it all, as he just doesn't care.

"Last time everyone was coming into the house like it was nothing to leave the whole floor wet, they also left a mess all over the kitchen, pool and garden," you remind him annoyed, "Not to mention we had complaints from the neighbors for all the fuss you made."

"Fucking Hell, will you relax? I'll take care of everything," he says looking at you wearily, only increasing your anger more, "The guys won't be long and I needed everything to be ready."

"That's what you always say but I'm the one who ends up cleaning everything up in and I'm the one who deals with the neighbors because of you fucking fault!"

"Fine!" he exclaims in exasperation, looking at you, "You have my word, I'll take care of everything this time, yeah?"

He looks at you seriously to get back to dealing with the beers, but you don't believe half a word he says.

"Now do you want to help me turn on the pool lights? Also lock the upstairs doors, just in case."

You slowly shake your head in his direction with your arms crossed with your completely serious and annoyed look in his direction.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You don't wait for him to say anything back nor do you say anything else, you just annoyingly turn around and walk upstairs to your room, preparing to be another long night confined to your four walls.

And this is what happens every time your parents aren't home, having to put up with the liberties Cregan takes to do whatever he pleases around the house.

During the week he usually doesn't invite anyone over, except for a few times he invites the Velaryon brothers, Jace and Luke, over to play video games after school.

The weekend is when it really bothers you that he throws big parties without your parents knowing.

It's not until one day when you get home from your music lessons at almost seven o'clock that when you open your front door, you hear a lot of voices and laughter.

You close the door hard enough to announce your arrival and look into the living room as you head for the stairs, when then, you see them.

And they see you too.

With handsome faces and infectious smiles, besides their unusually silver hair and blue eyes that steal the breath of every girl in the school, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen, the kings of the whole school and also the most players, are in your living room having a few beers and smoking with Cregan.

And Cregan is the first to react.

"Guys, the lady of the house is here," he says, "So let's take this to the pool, shall we? Before she starts screaming."

You watch him with a completely serious look on your face as you see Aegon let out a small chuckle to himself. And without a word, you avert your gaze and continue on your way to the stairs, feigning disinterest.

However, you don't leave without one last look at him, Aemond Targaryen.

From your single couch and with a cigarette between his long fingers, gives you back an intense and burning look that makes you feel a strange sensation all over your body.

And just like all the other girls at your school, you can't help but feel equally captivated and attracted to him, Aemond.

But it's not something you really go around telling everyone, let alone something you want your brother to know now that he's apparently become friends with him.

However, you should have expected him to notice.

And it happens when Cregan again throws a pool party with all his friends and him too, where you don't confront him much about it like previous times and that's what gets his attention.

"Which of the two is the one you like?"

He asks you suddenly with a curious expression and a hint of suspicion in his voice, making you watch him with confusion on your face.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Targaryens."

He points at you with his gaze, crossing his arms and looking at you again attentively and suspiciously.

"You haven't caused a scene since the two of them have been coming around often and you certainly don't look upset when it used to be a problem with anyone coming around, so you definitely must like one of the two of them, so tell me, which one?"

Your whole body tenses up completely upon hearing your brother's words and you inevitably start to feel terribly nervous, as well as your heart starts to beat too fast, especially because of his suspicious look on you.

But you feign innocence and confusion, only to stare at him with your most incredulous face of all and try to evade him.

"You're talking nonsense."

"Oh, am I?"

"Cregan," you observe him seriously, "Have you ever seen me talk to either of the two of them here or at school?"

"Hmm," he says for a moment, thoughtfully.

Still he doesn't look entirely convinced and analyzes you with a completely intent and penetrating gaze, making you feel more nervous but you control him well.

"Still I find it odd that you don't complain about them when they come."

"Then maybe you should think about the fact that I just got tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again," you persuade the subject, "No matter how many times I complain, you'll still do what you want," you tell him seriously, "Besides, you assume that as if I didn't go to the same school as you and didn't know the Targaryens."

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," he says instantly, just as serious, "Do you think I'd like to see you start dating one of them?"

"And why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" he repeats incredulously, "I'm your brother, of course I care."

"As if I care about the girls you date," you tell him just as incredulously.

"Well, at least I have a good reason here," he insists, "I know them, both," he clarifies, "And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

"Stop being ridiculous," you tell him with your clearly annoyed tone, starting to head to your room, "And even if I will start dating one of them, it's none of your business."

You sentence to finally leave him behind, leaving a tension in the kitchen, while inside, you finally stop feeling tense and nervous, but Cregan continues with his suspicion.

He almost had you, almost.

And after that conversation, automatically the Targaryens come to your house more often, even more than usual.

Even after school, Cregan invites them over, the two of them and also the Velaryon brothers, where they all together invade your house and you start to witness the personality of him that he is mostly known for.

And it happens one day you're making yourself food and you hear them all talking from the living room.

"Oh, this fucker is texting Savannah," you hear Aegon's excited and amused voice.

"What!? Savannah Williams!?"

"Yeah, since yesterday. I saw her name on his phone when she texted him."

"So what do you say, dude?"

"Not much, actually," you hear his voice.

"But haven't you gone out with her before?"

"Yeah, but you know, it was casual," he explains, "Just now she told me her parents aren't home."

"Oh dude, if I were you, I wouldn't waste the opportunity," your brother says excitedly.

"But what happened to that girl at the party last week? What was her name? Emily, I think."

"Ah Emily… yeah, we had a thing but it was casual too. We only met once after that party."

"She was so hot, but Savannah is hot too."

"Yeah, I know," you hear his nonchalant voice.

"So will you go see her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

You hear them continue to talk, but you tune out and sneak off to your room unnoticed.

It's not the first time you've witnessed these conversations, though. It also happens when they are in the pool and you find yourself back in the kitchen preparing food.

But you can't concentrate because through the glass of the huge windows you see Aemond's bare chest marked. This is a distraction but you try to ignore it as much as you can, but to no avail.

When then the movement and sound of him emerging from the water catches your attention and that of Cregan and Aegon.

"Where are you going?"

"To Cerelle's," he announces, with his phone in hand and his towel over his shoulder.

"Yo! Cerelle Lannister!?" exclaims Cregan in surprise.

"She's so sexy," Aegon says, grining.

"She told me she's home alone and wants me to come over," he explains, as you watch him quickly move his fingers across his phone screen.

"Good luck, dude!"

You feel another pang of disappointment when you hear all this and also when you see how he smiles and starts to make his way over here without taking his eyes off his screen.

This immediately makes you react to quickly go to your room so you don't cross paths with him.

Even though you know his reputation and how you are aware of his numerous 'adventures' with other girls, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach and wonder if he might ever be interested in you.

Not in that way, since you really don't want to be another girl on his huge list, but be something more genuine and real to him.

But that's totally ridiculous and impossible.

You tell yourself in disbelief, seeing the reality, as it's clear he's not looking for something serious and you don't want to be a 'one night stand' for him if you'll be ignored, forgotten and to some extent humiliated afterwards.

One day, taking advantage of the fact that Cregan is not at home on the weekend and neither are any of his friends, much less your parents, although that is actually no surprise, you decide to make this day for yourself, relax and enjoy your own company.

You decide to stop paying attention to your phone and with your towel in your arms, you leave your room and go down to the pool.

But just as you finish walking down the stairs and are about to turn down the hallway, the doorbell rings.

You stop with a tired expression as that alone has slightly disturbed the zen zone you now find yourself in, but having no choice, you turn around and head to open the door, thinking it must be Mrs. Arryn to ask you for sugar, as usual.

But when you open the door, it is not Mrs. Arryn, but rather you come face to face with Aemond, taking you by surprise and takes your breath away for a moment.

If he is surprised to see you, he doesn't show it, just raises his eyebrows slightly and you notice how he shamelessly runs his eye up and down you, making you embarrassed and nervous as you remembers your outfit, which is a cute black two-piece bikini.

And you quickly try to cover up a bit with the towel in your hands, although in reality this shouldn't embarrass you, since you're at home and you didn't expect to see him, besides this bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Or so you think.

"Hey."

He says to you dispassionately in greeting mode, with a look that you can't really describe but that makes you feel more nervous and you feel your heart beating too hard.

"Hi," you try not to stutter, "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Aemond watches you with a little mischievous smile barely visible and a spark of amusement in his eye.

"No worries," he tells you in his soft tone.

"Hum…" you place your confused face, "My brother is not here," you let him know, still finding it strange that he doesn't know that.

"Oh," he is silent for a moment, watching you intently, "He's not?"

You shake your head.

"He said he was going to Alysanne's, but he left hours ago," you explain and he hums in understanding, "Did you tell him you were coming today?"

"No, although I should have, I was just passing through and decided to come," he explains to you as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his silk jacket, "I left my wallet here last night," he tells you later, getting your attention more, "That's why."

"Oh," is all you say, not knowing what else to say for a few seconds, "Well, I'm not sure what time Cregan will be back. But if you want to go up and get it, I'll be at the pool."

You allow him passage, as it's not as if he's a complete stranger and it's not as if he doesn't hang around here often either, it's as if he and Aegon live here too, being the brothers Cregan wished he had.

"Okay, thanks," he tells you as you step aside and make room for him to come in.

"Just close the door when you leave," you tell him, still feeling your heart beat too fast against your chest.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you, nodding in your direction.

"All right."

You give him a small smile and without saying anything else to him, you walk past him, hurrying to get out of his sight and urgently needing, now more than anything else, to get your whole body into the warm water of the pool that will make you stop feeling so tense.

And this is why you don't feel Aemond's piercing, burning gaze on you as you pull away, admiring your bare skin and having a perfect idea of your naked body to the imagination.

And with that alone, he feels himself getting hard at the sight of your smooth, long legs, as well as getting a good look at that ass of yours jiggling as you pull away.

He wets his lips and with a little grin, finally makes his way to Cregan's room, thinking about little things since you're here alone…. now with him.

Meanwhile you, wanting to forget that Aemond Targaryen is in your house right now, submerge yourself completely in the water, where you immediately feel a sensation of freshness and relief.

The water caresses you and envelops your body completely, while you let out a small sigh of pleasure and begin to get used to the new temperature, letting the revitalizing sensation envelop you completely.

Then you emerge with a slight jump, remove your wet hair stuck to your face and begin to swim elegantly, where your arms and legs move at a steady pace and the water takes you in all directions.

You submerge again for a moment and watch the horizon, as your house is on a hill and you can see the lights of neighborhoods below, being a beautiful sight when the sun sets and also when the sun goes down.

However, again your zen zone is disturbed when you hear the movement of the kitchen glass doors sliding, so you turn around in confusion and again feel all your nervousness wash over you.

Aemond makes his way over here, but what strikes you more than anything else is how he has clothes in his hand and also one of the many clean towels Cregan has in his bathroom.

You look at him confused face and he looks back at you with his intent gaze.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The words get stuck in your throat, watching him still confused, feeling really very nervous and not understanding what he is doing here since he was supposed to go get his wallet and then leave, while he stands at the edge of the pool, watching you.

"Hum…" you say not really knowing what to say, "Are you going to wait for Cregan?"

He averts his gaze from yours, then drops the towel and clothes on a chair with dispassionate movements, to return his gaze to you.

"Yeah, I can do that too."

You watch him warily and with a slight distrust, but not in a bad way, it's simply nerves.

"And what are you actually here to do?"

He looks at you slightly amused.

"To keep you company, of course. Unless you don't want me to," he hastens to clarify.

And here your dilemma begins.

Being alone here with Aemond, in your house, in your pool, was a scenario you longed for and feared at the same time. You longed for because that's how your mind works when you're attracted to him, but feared since anything could happen.

And knowing his reputation, maybe when the moment happens, if the moment happens at all, you don't know if what will come next will be bad or good.

Also, you don't know if Cregan will arrive at any time or even later, so if he arrives in a couple more minutes and sees you alone here with Aemond, you don't even want to imagine the scandal he will make.

You don't know if Aemond has considered that possibility too but if he has, he doesn't seem to mind.

"So?" he looks at you expectantly.

But you again, can't utter words.

You don't want to look bitter by telling him no, that it will be best for him to leave, but you also can't find another way to politely decline.

And on the other hand… there is that inevitable emotion in your being that begs you to invite him into the pool with you.

You let out a long breath and swallow hard before responding, trying to hide your excitement and nervousness.

"Hum… yeah, sure, if you want," you say acting nonchalant, averting your gaze from him and distracting yourself with the water.

Aemond can't help but put on his smirk again and right in front of you, wanting to give you a show, he takes off his shirt, to which you watch him helplessly out of the corner of your eye and make sure he doesn't catch you admiring the view.

He's wearing that usual silver chain around his neck that makes it stand out against his skin, making him look only even sexier when he doesn't have a shirt on and God, you don't know if you can survive this, thinking it's a bad idea.

Then you watch as he pulls on a pair of Cregan shorts, secures his hair in a low bun and finally steps into the water.

In a nonchalant way you make yourself more towards the shore, unobviously avoiding getting too close to him as he swims towards the center of the pool, making it more impossible for you not to watch him as it's getting dark and the last orange rays of the sun beautifully illuminate his skin that glows slightly from the water and his face.

And then feel his intense gaze on you, while you try to distract yourself with your eyes, trying to focus only on you.

But it is genuinely impossible.

However, he doesn't make any effort to talk and neither do you, which you are grateful for, to continue to feel the calmness and relaxation throughout your body, although it's a little hard for you being here alone with him.

And it's a bit awkward since neither of you are talking, but is there anything to talk about?

He's one of your brother's best friends and you're just the sister, the two of you don't really know each other, so it makes sense. But still you feel the slight tension between the two of you and you don't even know why.

You wonder if he feels the same way too when suddenly his low, amused voice almost makes you startle in your place.

"I've always wondered why you're so quiet when Aegon and I come over."

You look at him with a slightly surprised expression, not expecting that, feeling again how your heart is beating too fast from nerves, for what are you supposed to tell him?

You should tell him that you have a crush on him and that your brother warned you about him?

"I know it's your house and I come with your brother but… you look like you hate me or something."

Oh God.

You think, only making you feel more nervous, especially since it's really impossible not to see a part of his torso and pectorals that looks almost glowing from the water and sunlight, not expecting to hear those words either.

And you force yourself not to turn your back on him anymore to watch him while they talk, adopting a relaxed and confident attitude, just like him, when actually inside you are shaking with nerves.

"You just said yourself, you come with my brother, not me," you say softly.

And while he watches you and listens attentively, he also struggles just like you not to see too much of your breasts confined in that black bikini of yours that makes you look too sexy, especially the way the wet fabric looks and your skin on your chest and collarbone too.

"And I don't hate you," you clarify, slightly amused and absurd, "We just don't talk, that's all."

"Because you haven't given me the chance."

You look at him expectantly.

"I don't remember a single time you ever tried to talk to me."

"That's exactly why," he tells you softly, "Because you run away before I can try."

Now it is you who watches him completely attentively, while you feel your heart beating like crazy and you look away from him for a moment, not knowing what to say or do since he is right, feeling really very nervous, especially when he starts to swim slowly towards you, with a determined look.

And you for insisting, you start to back away, watching his slow and calculated movements with some trepidation, having an idea of what he intends to do and you know it's not a good idea at all.

"See? You're already running away," he points out to you with his amused and satisfied look.

And you don't miss his determined look, how his head is slightly tilted as he continues to slowly advance towards you, with the corners of his lips twisted upwards in a small smile and his blue eye glowing, while his prosthetic eye remains the same as ever.

And you still don't want to agree with him.

"That's not true, I'm not doing anything," you defend yourself in a weak and pathetic attempt.

"Oh no?" he raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

And you start to lose it all when he's already in front of you, cornering you.

"Aemond," you call him in a sigh in warning mode, fully alert, leaving his name in the air as you become very nervous of his intense, dark gaze on you.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?"

You watch him with a slight expression of surprise and even more nervousness, as you press your lips together and try to say the right words.

"No," you reply softly, "But I know you're no good either," you confess.

And he frowns, watching you interestedly.

"What do you mean?" you are silent for a moment, as you give him a sad look, serious and obvious at the same time.

"We both know what," you tell him softly, without much detail.

And at this, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed, immediately noticing how you clench your jaw and look away from yours for a moment, serious and thoughtful.

You know he shouldn't have to be upset with you for implying a truth you both know, especially him, but still you can't help but hold your breath, hoping that maybe you haven't gone too far.

All the while thinking that maybe you've ruined the first chance you've had to talk to him by telling him that he's no good by reputation, since that's not your concern, but at least you make it clear that that's not what you're looking for now.

"And you don't even want to try?" he asks you quietly, turning his gaze back to you, attentive and completely willing.

You stare at him, completely speechless, as you feel your whole body tense and your eyes are slightly wide open, your lips parted, not having the slightest idea what to say at the same time as a million questions invade your mind.

And just at that moment, Cregan's words come back to your mind.

"I know them, both. And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

So you know.

Aemond is not like you and the only thing he wants is to fill his list, no matter with whom, not even if it's the sister of one of his best friends, who are supposed to be 'forbidden', somehow.

And that's why you decide to answer him truthfully, no longer caring if you hurt his feelings, even though you doubt it very much.

"And be just another girl on your list that you never speak to again and suddenly pretend she doesn't exist anymore? No thanks."

Not wanting this to go any further, since you knew all along that letting him stay was a bad idea, you move as fast as your body in the water will let you, walking away, wanting to keep your distance again.

But just as you pass by him, he's faster and you feel his big hand grab your arm and twist you in a demanding motion back towards him, slamming his chest against yours, locking you in his arms, making you gasp in surprise.

His face is above yours, completely close, causing you nerves and you try to free yourself from him, but he doesn't let you, even having that determined, attentive and dark look.

"Do you ever stop running away?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

"What do you think you're doing?" you hiss nervously.

"You're not even letting me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Oh no?" he asks, "Did I say I only wanted you for one night?"

"That's what you do, Aemond, with every girl," you say absurdly, "Am I suddenly going to be the exception? How am I supposed to believe that?"

However, any further protest gets stuck in your throat as Aemond grabs one hand from your cheek and the other places it on your bare waist, pulling you closer against him in a possessive grip.

And you know you're losing the battle when he brings his face closer to yours, where your noses brush lightly and your breathing becomes more rapid, having no idea what's going on.

But Aemond does.

And as he strokes your soft, wet cheek with his thumb, watching you intently and with understanding, his next words make you reconsider the situation completely.

"You won't be just another girl on the list," he murmurs softly to you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

You shudder completely at his words, but also at his touch and closeness, being impossible not to look between his violet eye or his full lips, which Aemond notices, also peering between your eyes and lips hungrily.

And you don't even think or discuss it anymore when he leans his face towards you and kisses you with need, without even giving you time to react.

You moan into his mouth in surprise and he pulls you roughly to him, lowering his hands to your body where he makes you wrap your legs around his torso, then makes room between your lips with his tongue, making you gasp.

You immediately bring your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss further, a passionate kiss, where you barely give each other time to breathe properly before desperately bringing your lips together again.

A slight tingle of desire is felt between your legs as you move your body and legs to hold his torso tighter, where you perfectly feel the hardness of his cock under your ass.

You moan as you feel one of his hands grip your thigh and the other caress the skin of one of your ass cheeks, making you gasp against his mouth, closing your eyes in delight as he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft kisses on your neck.

"I fucking knew it," he murmurs in delight too in his husky voice, running his tongue over your sensitive skin, "I knew you wanted me too."

You squint completely as the hand on your ass reaches lower and nonchalantly rubs his palm over your covered, moist center.

"Aemond," you moan.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, smiling in the middle of your lips as he kisses you again.

But it's there in that moment with his hand caressing you right at your nerve center that your brain for an instant seems to react, realizing what's really going on and you stop kissing him abruptly, watching him in surprise and slight fear as he watches you slightly confused.

"W-we can't," you say in a trembling voice, "We can't do this, t-this is wrong. Cregan—

"We can't do it or we can't do it here?" he inquires expectantly.

You let out a sigh.

"Both," you say with a certain embarrassed tone, "But I'm more worried about Cregan. If he sees us, he'll go crazy."

"Come on, Y/N, you're not a little girl anymore."

"I know but he warned me about you and your brother," you tell him hopelessly, "And you're one of his best friends."

Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you and nothing else, where he is aware and so are you of the hardness in his shorts, while in his thoughts he bets that you too must be spilling your juices between your legs.

Honestly he understands your concern, but he also understands that Cregan is really no one to tell you who you can and can't date, as the decision is totally up to you.

He doesn't want to have problems with him either as he also considers him one of his best friends but you... you simply drove him crazy with seeing you in this black bikini and now he is even more so for you, wanting, needing more of you, no matter the consequences.

"Then we have to be careful and not to say anything to him," he tells you softly, in solution, "Only if you want to," he clarifies, "But if you want to stop now, just tell me and I will, before we take this any further."

But you don't really have to make a decision when you are already here, in his arms, feeling how much he wants you and you also recognizing how much you want to keep touching and kissing him, no matter what.

But he still gives you that option, to make you see that he really doesn't want to hurt you and that he respects your decisions, since you are the one in control of all this and you are the one who puts the stop, at any time.

And when Aemond sees how you are watching him intently, with indecision in your gaze, holding back your true desires, thinking fast, he cocks his head to one side and watches you curiously.

"Or do you really want me as much as I want you, princess?"

Something snaps inside you and not just from hearing that nickname for you, but from having him so fucking close and his lips being a complete invitation to you and in fact all of him.

So you think no more and again crash your lips against his, resuming what you were doing before, to which Aemond responds with the same rudeness and fervor.

And then without stopping kissing you, he carries you to the edge of the pool along with him.

Soon enough, he is sitting on the edge of the pool and you find yourself sitting on top of him, your arms around his neck as you press yourself against the hardness of his shorts.

You move your hips in circles on top of him, rubbing your needy center against his hard cock, while he caresses your thighs, your ass and all the skin he blindly finds without stopping kissing you, feeling his breathing just as ragged as yours.

Then he brings his hands up and starts sliding the strings of your bikini over your shoulders, sending fiery electricity throughout your body.

"What was it you said? That we couldn't do this here?" he murmurs hoarsely against your skin, leaving wet kisses on your collarbone and neck.

You moan, as your bikini top piece is loosened completely by Aemond's fingers and you involuntarily wiggle your hips more intensely.

"You just can't resist, can you?" he asks you amused amidst all the sensuality.

"Shut up," you whine pathetically into his lips.

This time he kisses you again, softly and tenderly, deep, as he with his hand pulls away the piece of your bikini top that covers your breasts, freeing them, causing him to groan at the sight in front of him.

"Fuck," he murmurs, "Such a pretty tits, princess."

He says to you with his eye fully dilated and watching you hungrily, then you moan as he brings his mouth to your hard, wet nipple and begins to caress it with his tongue and lips, sucking on it, while he kneads the other one with his hand.

"Oh yes," you moan, pulling your breasts closer to his face.

You continue to move your hips on top of him, desperate and needy to feel the friction his cock gives you against your swollen clit.

When you least expect it, you begin to approach your limit, as your whole body tenses and his caressing hands only add to the pleasure.

"Mhm," he moans against your hard nipple, then gives the same attention to the other, still kneading them as he pleases.

"Fuck, Aemond, please don't stop," you say under your breath.

But that's exactly what he does, he releases your nipple with a wet sound and captures your lips in a sensual kiss, making you moan and groan at the same time from the attention on your breasts.

And you sigh as he again distributes kisses all over your neck and his teeth grind against your sensitive skin.

You feel the moist heat of his mouth and hands all over your body, as if he wants to mark you with each firm, possessive touch.

You arch your neck and moan, clinging to him completely, needing more of him, driving you completely insane.

"Remember we have to be careful, baby," he suddenly murmurs hoarsely in your ear, feeling his warm breath, "And we don't want your brother to see his innocent little sister getting the fuck of her life if he comes back, do we?"

Despite all the desire you're feeling and you're dripping completely for him, his words reach your brain and scare you a little, so you force yourself to be patient and you both go up to your room.

And soon enough you find yourself lying on your bed, with Aemond on top of you, spreading your legs for him, watching with his dilated eye and gently biting his bottom lip your wet pussy ready for him.

"Seven Hells," he growls, running his fingers all over your entrance, "Look at you, you're dripping, princess."

His cock pulses in pain for release, watching you in complete delight as you moan with every movement of his fingers that collects your juices, spreading them all over your pussy, making you wiggle your hips against his hand.

"Aemond, please," you cry, needing to feel it inside you, now.

"What is it, baby? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy hard?"

He teases you, running his fingertips over your hole, making you moan, sigh and groan.

"Please, just fuck me, fuck me with your cock," you implore him.

"Yesah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please!"

"Only because you asked nicely."

He joins in, leaving you needy and trembling on your bed, spread wide open for him, watching as he removes his wet shorts and boxers, completely freeing his entire erect, heavy, hot, hard cock, just for you.

Your mouth waters at the sight and he proudly holds it in his hand, turning to make his way back to you, thrilling and scaring you at the same time as you've never had a cock like Aemond's inside you before.

"Do you take control pills? I don't have a condom."

"Yes, I take them, don't worry," you assure him instantly and he grins.

"Eager, huh?"

"Aemond," you groan and moan at the same time.

"Someone's acting like a little brat," he croons, starting to rub the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you shudder and moan, needing him inside you, "Behave yourself, princess. I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Stop teasing," you whine between whimpers.

When suddenly Aemond enters you in a single hard, firm movement that makes you release all the air in your lungs, moaning loudly at the rough intuition as he pulls it all out of you again.

"What did I say? Stop being a little brat and behave yourself," he warns you.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

You plead desperately and moan as he slams the tip against your pussy, to again enter you fully in a more careful and slower way, letting you feel all of him, making you moan.

"Oh fuck, Aemond," you moan his name, drunk with pleasure, closing your eyes tight.

"Yeah, just like that, squeezing me so fucking good, baby," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He stops once he's all the way inside you, letting you get used to his size, while you feel him pulsing inside you and all his heat flooding through you.

When he rolls his hips in a grunt and his tip touches exactly your swollen clit in need of release.

He leans fully into you, kissing your hot, sweaty skin, just like him, then slides all the way down to your bottom, where you feel every inch of his long, hard cock, moaning into his mouth, as your whole body trembles.

His hands run along your waist and thighs as he lifts both of your legs and places them around his torso, feeling him sink more easily inside you.

"You're so hot, baby. So fucking perfect," he growls against your lips, closing his eye and rests his forehead with yours as he begins his swaying hips back and forth.

"You're so deep," you moan, clinging to his back, lightly digging your nails into his pale skin.

This makes Aemond grunt and feel more desperation as he begins to penetrate you with more rhythm, all the way in, with hard movements that hit exactly that spot inside you that makes you squirm beneath him.

"Yes Aemond, right there," you moan.

"Yeah? Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, yes."

You both gasp into each other's mouths, where then his dark gaze returns to your features and he watches you intently, never ceasing to slam his hips hard and deep against you.

"You're mine now, you know that, don't you?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

His words only make you clench tighter around him and you feel yourself slowly reaching your limit, each onslaught sending delicious waves all over your core that soothes your needy pussy.

"Say it," he demands forcefully, only this time to plunge your cock back into your wet pussy with a hard onslaught that knocks the air out of you, "Say you're mine."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, Aemond. I am yours," you manage to say it, "I am completely yours."

He smiles complacently and contentedly, never ceasing to move for a moment.

"Yes, you are," he croons, "You. Are. Mine," he rams you hard to the hilt on every accentuation, not giving you time to anticipate it, making you moan loudly in pleasure and pain, "And I don't fucking share."

He brings his lips back to your skin, marking and sucking on your breasts and neck even with his heavy cock inside you, fucking you hard and grunting against your ear telling you how tight you are.

He takes you completely over the edge, where your mind goes blank with each thrust, filling you completely, swelling inside you, as both you and he begin to gasp for breath, but he doesn't slow down or change his pace, continuing to penetrate you and press you against your bed.

Until finally everything inside you explodes, you see stars behind your eyes and Aemond's warm semen fills everything inside you, coming with an almost painful grunt in your ear and with a last strong thrust that leaves you drunk with pleasure and makes you forget everything for a moment.

Things didn't end with Aemond there, not at all.

He was honest with you when he told you that he wouldn't hurt you or make you just another girl on his list, just as he was honest in telling you that you are now his and he doesn't share.

After that day in your room, the little secret affair began.

When Aemond comes to your house along with Aegon, you both behave towards each other as you were before, completely indifferent.

You don't even speak to each other and avoid as much as possible to look each other, where no one suspects the two of you. And at school it's the same, although especially there you have to be more careful.

However, you and especially he are not entirely patient, so once you reach your limit, he secretly intercepts you in one of the empty classrooms or labs and you take advantage of that little moment as much as possible.

Even in the library, you both find a secluded corner between the shelves of books and can't keep your hands off each other, where Aemond makes you come on his fingers and sometimes you also dare to suck his cock, hoping not to be discovered.

As far as you know, he has not been seen with other and his usual girls, since almost all the time the two of you are texting each other and sometimes, when Cregan is not at home, you let him know and he comes as fast as he can, not missing the opportunity.

Already being in the four walls of your room, the two of you can do whatever you want without fear of being discovered, where Aemond fucks you against your mattress in all positions.

And sometimes, when things have not been in favor of either of you, he climbs through your window at midnight and unable to hold back any longer, he fucks you silently, silencing your moans with his mouth, hands or cock, since Cregan's room is at the end of the hallway.

And this lasts for a while, all in secret, where you look for small moments to share intimate moments, hidden caresses and soft whispers in your ear that only you and he can hear.

But of course, the good things can't last forever.

Jason Lannister, a friend of Cregan's, throws a Halloween party at his house and practically the entire school has been invited. So you see this as an opportunity to be able to be with Aemond for a few moments of the party.

Cregan dresses up as a wizard and you choose to dress up as a sexy sailor girl with a skirt that exposes your legs, a simple white blouse, you put on your tie and also your hat, and then you and Cregan head off to the party.

You immediately look for Aemond, but he is nowhere to be seen, even though you meet Aegon and his younger brother, Daeron.

However, not to be obvious, you start pouring yourself drinks and talking to your friends, starting to get into the same mood as everyone else because of the music with twinkling lights and also because of the whole decorated house.

You see Aegon talking to Cassandra Baratheon, dresses up as a vampire and she as an angel, then you see Alysanne talking to your brother, dresses up as a bunny, and then you keep looking around the party, not understanding where Aemond is.

You are about to send him a message, when you look absentmindedly towards the kitchen and then, there he finally is, only he is not alone.

Dresses up as a pirate, Aemond is chatting with his ex-girlfriend, the gorgeous Alys Rivers, dresses up as a witch.

You had been enjoying the party, but your mood inevitably changes and also without being able to help it, you feel a twinge of jealousy all over your insides, watching them intently.

They both talk, she occasionally laughs and places her hand on his chest, playfully smacking it, both of them too close, while you see Aemond's grin on his lips at all times, making the knot of jealousy in your stomach tighter.

And, you mean, you can't even blame him, she's Alys Rivers.

When then at that moment your gaze crosses his casually, who slowly wipes away his smile, but you quickly avert your gaze from him as you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to act nonchalant.

But too late, he's already noticed your annoyed look.

However, you quickly make room with Aegon, Cassandra and Daeron, simply to dissemble in front of them and him as well. Then Cregan and Alysanne join in and of course so does he, but you don't even notice him and continue drinking.

You notice how he wants to approach you slyly on a few occasions, but you don't let him, you continue to laugh with Daeron, ignoring him altogether, not wanting to talk or be with him anymore.

Until the hour starts to get late and taking advantage of the fact that one of your friends is already leaving, you ask her to drop you off at your house and she accepts. You just tell Cregan, who nods and you leave the party with your friend.

And once you get home, you take off your costume, take a shower and get ready to sleep, although you should have expected Aemond to start calling you, but you send it to voicemail.

He calls you a couple of times more where you don't answer and you also get severe messages from him that you don't read, to finally leave your phone on mute and try to sleep.

But you barely last a few minutes with your eyes closed, suddenly you hear some sounds at your window.

You sit up confused in your bed, looking at your window, instantly knowing what it is or rather who it is, since only one person has the habit of doing this and you let out a long resigned breath.

Reluctantly you open your curtains and the window, where the figure of Aemond stands down there, watching you confused and attentive.

"What are you doing?" you reproach him sleepily.

"You're not answering my calls or texts," he tells you with some anger in his tone of voice, "And you ignored me the whole party."

You press your lips together in anger as well.

"It semeed to me like you were too busy," you can't help but say with some bitterness.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"It's not what you thin—

"No matter. Go home. I want to sleep," you cut him off, intending to turn away from your window.

"I swear to God Y/N, I'm not leaving until you listen to me," he warns you.

"It's after midnight!" you reproach him.

"Open the door," he demands.

"No," you say firmly.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"I don't care."

"Y/N," he warns you again.

"Stay there all night, I'm not opening for you."

You sentence and finally move away from the window, close it and close your curtains as well.

Feeling no remorse, you settle back into your bed, ready to sleep again, but only a few seconds pass when you hear noise again.

And that's when you realize you should have locked your windows.

You startle and turn your head to watch how Aemond is entering through your windows with the same agility as always, with a serious and threatening look, jumping into your room and you look at him angrily.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"You don't know what you just got yourself into," he says as he makes his way towards you.

"Fuck you," you spit back at him.

"Oh yeah, I just pretend to do that, princess."

"Alys wasn't available at this time that you decided to come and play with me?"

He lets out a long breath, rolling his eye.

"You're getting it all wrong—

"Oh I am?" you inquire, "She's your fucking ex, Aemond. I'm not stupid."

"In fact yes, you are being stupid right now, " he says, coming towards you.

And just before you can escape, he catches you, instantly grabbing you by both wrists, cornering you between him and your bed, climbing on top of you with a mischievous, menacing grin and his pupil fully dilated.

"Let go of me," you gasp, trying to shake him off.

"Listen to me—

"I mean it, get off me and get the fuck out of my house!"

He cocks his head.

"Where did this bratty attitude come from, hm?"

"Aemond," you plead, "Stop it."

"Oh baby," he croons, bringing his lips to your ear, "Can't you see? Can't you see how fucking crazy I am about you?" he murmurs hoarsely.

You try to fight your own urges, telling yourself that you shouldn't let yourself get carried away by him, that he can talk and fuck whoever he wants, while you are only exclusively for him and these are just empty words to convince you.

"Alys and I ended on good terms, we're just friends, it's nothing to worry about," he says earnestly in your ear, as your breath is cut short when you feel his knee make its way between your legs.

"Aemond," you whine.

"But if you want me to stop talking to her, fine, I will," he murmurs in understanding, only to feel his knee press lightly into your pussy, making you moan.

"Oh, A-aemond-" you try to say, feeling so good.

"Yeah, baby? What's wrong? Does it feel good?"

You can't formulate words, especially when he puts more pressure and makes you gasp more, just that making you feel good, only to then feel him drop almost his weight against you and now positioning himself between your legs, he starts rubbing his hard cock inside his pants against you, making you shudder.

Now he gasps along with you, as he lets go of your wrists and slides one of his hands under your shirt, kneading one of your breasts with ease as you sleep without a bra.

You arch your back against him and bite your bottom lip as he begins to leave soft kisses down your neck, never letting go of your touch and never stopping rubbing against you.

"Please, Aemond, please," you beg him, needing him.

He marks the skin of your neck, sucking and sucking, then brings his lips back to your ear.

"Now do you get it, princess?" he says hoarsely, "You're the only one who can make me play this fucking game of hide and seek with your brother and everyone else."

He says honestly, making you moan as he puts more pressure on his hips.

"But you know what? I've had enough and I don't fucking care if Cregan bothers or not. I don't give a shit."

You bring one of your hands to his face and turn him towards you, kissing him with need and depth where he responds in kind, where you are completely delighted by his caresses and words.

And that night Aemond fucks you from behind, hard and fast, while you hold the sheets tightly under you and avoid shushing your sobs and moans too loudly against the pillow, as every time you do, Aemond gives you a hard spank with his hand on one of your ass cheeks as a way of punishment for your bratty attitude earlier.

And he doesn't give you a chance to silence your moans as he gathers all your hair into a fist and makes your back arch, while his other hand takes it to hold your throat firmly and rests his cheek against yours to fuck you with more accessibility, fast and deep, bringing you to the peak several times.

And when it's all over, you melt into the arms of your perfect, official boyfriend.

thank you so much for reading!❤

[angelkhi]

neighbour!abby headcanons

a little note: hi. my brain is a little fuzzy and i’m trying to figure some stuff out (about myself and life in general) but yeah sorry for going awol, i can’t promise anything consistent for the time being. anyway, here’s some neigbour abby for ya. i love her. goodnight 🩷 (tl;dr mental health is in the bin and i’m pretty sure i’m very gay)

very briefly nsfw towards the end!!

neighbour abby who is kinda closed off when she first moves in. you get the sense that she’s not so much rude as she is quiet and reserved, a woman who likes her own company yet is unsure how to approach others.

neighbour abby who gives you half smiles in the lobby, but she always holds the door for you, or offers to help with any bags.

neighbour abby who you mostly see when you walk by the gym, lifting stacked weights and beating a punch bag to shit it’s definitely not that hot and you’re definitely absolutely not sweating the AC must be broken

neighbour abby who helps you back into your apartment after you get a little too drunk on your birthday, wiping off your smeared makeup and (respectfully) helping you into your pyjamas.

neighbour abby who slowly warms up to you after that night, spending evenings watching shitty movies and drinking even shittier beer with you.

neighbour abby who gets a little too jealous when you talk about how great your new coworker is.

neighbour abby who becomes slightly more reserved when you come home with a hickey on your neck from a random girl at a club.

neighbour abby who watches you getting ready for a date knowing full well she doesn't want you to go.

neigbour abby who storms off before your date (that goes completely horribly) for absolutely no reason whatsoever, there’s no way she has feelings for you… right?

neighbour abby who despite her conflicting feelings comforts you after your shitty date, who won't have you talking down on yourself and shit talks a girl she’s never met just because she’s making you sad. neighbour abby who just ends up blurting out that she's not mad at you, but the thought of you going out with someone else and letting them touch you made her so insanely mad.

abby who kisses you, doesn't care about your pretty red lipstick smearing all over her lips she just needs to taste you. abby who pulls you onto her lap, making out with you sloppily, hating that she's going so fast but not wanting to stop.

abby who can't believe she gets to be the one who takes your dress off after all.

abby who eats you out like a woman starved, practically making out with your pussy as you lay back on her sofa.

abby who kisses you so sweetly afterwards and promises she'll take you on the best date imaginable.

abby who helps you wipe off your makeup and get into your pyjamas only this time, she gets to sleep next to you.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

i just want your love (twisters - boone)

a/n: whatever, you can pry this from my cold dead heads.

summary: You've been a bit busy with the start of your master's program and Boone is feeling just the teeny tiniest bit left out.

warnings: fluff, alcohol mentions, swearing, insecurities, i hate you theory, when i catch you theory, unedited i wrote this in like an hour and a half

word count: 1.8k

Now, despite popular opinion, Boone was actually smart. 

While most people would’ve written him off as an uneducated, thoughtless hillbilly, Boone actually had a decent head on his shoulders. Reckless, yeah, loud and chaotic, sure. But he was the best editor the team had, swiftly cutting through b-roll and different angles, always putting on the best show for their viewers. 

But academia was not and never had been and probably never would be Boone’s strong suit. He hadn’t even finished high school. 

And when you had made the decision to go back to school for your Master’s you had warned him that it would be a huge time commitment on your end, that you wouldn’t be able to put as much effort or attention into your relationship as you had before. 

Your first semester would be the Fall semester, right at the heart of the off-season. He had pledged to you that he would be the best partner to you as you made the adjustment and he had pledged to himself that he would do his very best to stay out of your way. 

And yeah, sure, it was an adjustment for you. The long days were killer on you but he always made sure you had a lunch packed and a decent dinner to come home to (and if Cathy and Tyler were giving him tips and tricks and recipes on the side, no one needed to know). He had made sure to make himself scarce or at the very least quiet on weekends, hanging out more with Javi or Tyler and Kate, putting together more footage for compilation videos, and even picking up a new video game Javi had recommended to him. He was pretty sure even Dani and Lilly were sick of him hanging around their place, always bugging Lilly about Cairo and upgrades they could make, even though none of his friends ever had the heart to tell him to go away.

But this was killing him. He had been doing okay, because you usually spent time with him after dinner on the weekends or made breakfast with him and on Friday nights he could coerce you to curl up on the couch with a beer and takeout and watch a movie before you inevitably fell asleep with a piece of pizza in hand, forty five minutes into the movie. 

But last night, a Saturday, you hadn’t left the office for dinner until an hour and a half after he had finished it and had stood in the kitchen only long enough to scarf down two helpings before disappearing to finish your homework. And dammit, he missed you. He wanted to curl up with you, you tugging your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head on your stomach and you told him about your day. He wanted to be able to finish editing a video and get your feedback on it before sending it over to the rest of the group. He wanted to tell you about the improvements he and Javi and Lilly were making to Cairo to get better footage and data from the drone. 

So today, as you’re blinking yourself awake through your third sip of coffee, Boone declares he’s going to help you with your homework. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, silent question in your look. He chooses to ignore it, silently proud of himself, thinking about all the time you’ll get to share with him if he finds a way to help you. Maybe he can read your readings to you as you take notes, or help you come up with questions for discussion, or edit through your reflection assignments for class. 

A stack of paper lands in front of him and he glances up at you. You gesture to it silently as you take your seat, clearly waiting for him to “help”. 

He gingerly picks up the packet, flipping over to the first page and is instantly overwhelmed by the words “empiricism” and “epistemology” and “temporal” and “postulates” and “discursive constitutions”. 

“What in the fresh hell does any of this mean?” He mutters as he flips through it, confusion and embarrassment blurring the foreign words together in the face of the truth: He couldn’t help you with this. He wasn’t smart enough. 

You snort into your coffee. “You tell me. You’re the one who said you could help.” 

He lets the papers fall to the table, cheeks burning in shame. You falter, setting your cup down before standing up, wrapping your arms around him from behind. One of your hands combs itself through his curls, working out the knots that had formed while he was asleep last night. 

“Baby, if I can’t figure it out, I don’t know how you expect to figure it out.”

“Hey.” He protests weakly, face growing even hotter in shame at the callout, twisting to pull away from you but your grip tightens. 

“Easy, that’s not what I’m saying.” You say with a tug on his hair. “‘M saying it’s hard all-around and I’m familiar with this field. No wonder it don’t make sense to you. And maybe I shouldn’t have given you the theory, that shit’s meant to be hard, but I wanted to make a point.” He sighs, knowing you’re telling the truth. “Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I just-” He sighs, feeling like an idiot for even saying it. “I just miss you.” 

Your hand pauses in his hair. “Boone, we talked about this.” 

And you had. You had made it so clear to him that you would be busy, maybe too busy, and you’d understand if he wanted to break it off. But he hadn’t wanted to lose you and that fear had made him panic, promising things he wasn’t sure he could sustain. 

And Javi and Kate had both warned him separately, the sacrifices grad school required, and even Tyler and Lilly had warned him that the crap he had put up with while they had been in school would be nothing compared to the long work and internship hours, class blocks, and homework loads of grad school. 

But he wanted to be with you more than he cared about a couple of road bumps for a few years while you got a degree that would ultimately, hopefully, let you make a little bit more money to create a better life for the two of you. Not that he thought the life you guys had had before was bad, but if another degree and a bit more money in the bank made you happy, he’d back you in that effort, a hundred and ten percent. 

And yet, he was starting to get the feeling that he was going to get left behind. You had complained to him that there were primarily men in your program, and while he had laughed with you at the idiot comments they’d make in class, he was starting to wonder if it would just take one connection with any of them for you to realize you could be with someone more your speed. Someone smart and someone who understands whatever fancy-pants words this author was using and someone whose schedules matched yours and would just be a better fit all around. 

“Baby, you’re crying.” You whisper and to his horror, he realizes he is, face suddenly wet. 

Before he can even do anything about it, your face swims into view as you sit on his lap. His hands immediately find your waist, the need to have you close persisting past the urge to pretend like nothing is wrong. 

Your thumbs wipe away his tears. “What’s wrong, my love?” You whisper softly, concern etched into the lines of your face. He gives a pitiful shrug. 

“I just think that- that maybe you need to be with someone better. Someone smarter, I guess. Someone who understands what the word postulates means.” 

“I think if anyone who understands theory should legally be considered a psychopath.” Your face falls when he doesn’t laugh at the joke and you sigh. “Baby, you are plenty smart, even if it isn’t with this shit.” 

“But what if you meet someone better there? Someone who can understand you?” 

You give a sad smile. “Baby, you do understand me. And all those men are old or married or gay or extremely annoying. Or E, all of the above. I don’t want them.” 

“But you want me?” 

It doesn’t make sense to him. It has never made sense to him, but it especially doesn’t make sense to him now. 

“Booney, of course I want you. How could I not?” 

And well, he could think of one or two reasons. Or twenty. 

“Booney, this has been one of the hardest adjustments in my life. But you’ve been so great through it, always making sure I eat and go to bed at a decent hour and do all my homework so I’m not waking up at odd hours of the night, stressed out of my mind. And it’s been really fucking lonely, being at a school where I can’t along with any of my classmates and I don’t know anyone else, but you’re always making sure I’m seeing the Wranglers for barbecue at least once a week, or catching up with Kate over coffee or going riding with Tyler. You’re making sure my head stays on, making sure I’m taking care of myself. And I’m sorry I haven’t been taking care of you in return. 

“No,” He protests. “No, this is dumb shit, it ain’t-”

“It ain’t dumb shit, it’s your feelings, and I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention. I’m gonna make more of an effort to try.” Once he nods, and you see the confirmation you’re looking for, you sigh, hands leaving his face. “Listen, I only got one chapter to read today, so let me finish eating and go do that, and then I’m yours the rest of the day. You can have me all day, although I should maybe shower at some point, cause I can’t remember the last time I took one.” 

He offers you a watery smile. “You mean it? I’m not gonna be a major distraction? If you got shit to do, I- I understand. I can go over to T’s or something.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I mean it.” 

“Can we just- just stay in bed the whole day? Watch movies or something?” He asks shyly. You nod, a grin growing. 

“Sounds heavenly baby.” 

He lets you go, maybe a bit reluctantly, as you finish your eggs before disappearing into the office, and then to the shower an hour later. He can’t help but join you, almost too pleased to have your undivided attention. 

Later that night, as both of your phones are set on the nightstand on do not disturb, takeout containers strewn across the room, the Harry Potter films flickering on a forgotten screen, he nudges your cheek with his nose. “I fucking love you baby.” He whispers. “You’re- the whole world to me.” 

You hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, baby. I ain’t going nowhere, nowhere in the whole world I’d wanna be then right here.”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I'm Here, I'm Here

Request: Could you do a fic with either Roy or Jamie x reader and the reader is having a hard time with grief after losing their dad?

Jamie Tartt x Reader 0.7k words Warnings: Grief, mentions of a deceased dad, established relationship

A/N: Ahh my first Jamie Tartt fic! I hope it came out well ❤️

“Babe? Where are you?”

Jamie’s pretty face appeared in the doorway. His eyes softened when he saw you standing over the sink, sponge in hand. You’d said you were going to the kitchen to do the dishes from dinner. However, it was clear from the plates still stacked in the sink that you hadn’t even begun the task. Instead, you were staring out the window, not quite seeing the fading sunlight that lit the garden in that soft way you usually liked.

With a tiny sigh, Jamie approached and gently wrapped his arms around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into his familiar touch, dropping the sponge and closing your eyes. For the past month, he kept walking on scenes like this: laundry on your lap, unfolded; dinner ingredients on the countertop, unopened; television in front of you, unwatched. Just you, frozen, lost somewhere in your own thoughts.

It would get easier, everyone assured you. Day by day, things would start to feel better. But you’d begun to doubt that. It seemed that no matter how much time passed between your dad’s funeral and now, your entire body still felt the loss just as heavily. You were a statue, frozen and made of stone.

The only person not telling you that things would get better was Jamie. Your boyfriend of about three years didn’t say too much about the situation, but he held you. He’d held you through the days of endless crying, listening to you attempt to bargain with a god neither of you were quite sure was listening, and now he held you through the endless silence.

His arms were so familiar after three years together: firm, tender, strong, gentle. He gripped you tight and pressed your back against his chest so you could feel his beating heart. I’m here, it said over and over. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

He leaned his cheek against the top of your head, simply engulfing you in his warmth, as if he were trying to thaw you out. Never able to stay still, he eventually began to sway back and forth aimlessly, creating an uneven rhythm that clashed with the steady one his heart created.

“I’m sad,” you finally croaked out. You wrapped a tentative hand around his forearm, afraid that if you moved to suddenly, he too would disappear forever.

Instead, he kissed the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured. He sighed, a heavy sound that you could feel in your whole body. “I miss him too, babe.”

That lump in your throat that never seemed to go away hardened. Jamie had loved your dad; with his own father being what he was, and his mother and Simon back in Manchester, Jamie clung to your family like a life preserver. He and your dad had become best friends quickly, always chatting at family dinners or going out for a pint. He made sure your dad and his mates always had tickets for any match they wanted, and all of Nelson Road knew to treat Jamie’s girlfriend’s dad like royalty. It made your dad happy to be so doted on by a famous footballer, and it made him even happier to see you so in love with such a kind young man.

Jamie didn’t say it- probably because he didn’t want to take away from your grief- but he was heartbroken. He, too, had moments of silence where the loss hit him like a punch to the gut and he had no choice but to simply freeze. He’d find things around the house that made him think of your dad- a photo of your family, the book he’d suggested Jamie would like, a bottle of his favorite beer, the kind Jamie actually hated but always made sure to have on hand just for your dad- and would become as still as a statue.

The sorrow hit even harder when he saw you like this, looking like a lost child. He wished he had the words to make everything better, but he knew they didn’t exist. And even if they did, he was pretty sure he’d say them all wrong and somehow make you feel worse; Jamie Tartt wasn’t the most eloquent speaker, and he knew it. So instead, he loved you the best way he knew how.

He folded the unfolded laundry. He made the unmade dinners. He put a movie on the unwatched telly. And now, he walked you to the kitchen table and let you sit down before turning back to the sink to handle the unwashed dishes.

And after that, he would lead you to your bed, where he’d simply hold you and let his heartbeat tell you over and over again, I’m here.

[urhoneycombwitch]

shelter thee to me

foreword: apparently I just love putting Steve in Situations™️ since this is the second back-to-back sick fic I’ve written for him. Hmm. Cheers to all u other hurt/comfort lovers this one’s 4 u <3 this piece was finished thanks to the inspo I got from Syl @thecreelhouse - she has a GREAT fic called Accident Prone that you totally should check out if you’re interested in this type of subject matter! ❤️‍🩹

cw: descriptions of a migraine, Steve is a bit of a depressed mess, there is comfort tho I promise, alcohol consumption, Steve actively does things to worsen his pain (but it does get addressed), gender neutral reader

wc: 4k

___

It’s the first warm spring day of 1987, and the Munson Bar-B-Q Bash is in full-swing.

Wayne flips burgers and rotates hot dogs dutifully on the grill, cigarette perched at his lips wiggling as he talks to El. Her doey eyes are wide with rapturous attention, like she’s never seen someone cooking outdoors before (highly likely; the world holds so much newness and wonders yet-unseen for a kid who’s been recently liberated from her windowless underground existence).

A few of the other Party kids are playing a raucous and complicated game of multi-player checkers, Dustin and Lucas kneeling in the grass while Mike and Will oppose, pressed in close around the small board. Max (inexplicably and suddenly) declares her piece as “knighted”, the chorus of boyish complaints quickly silenced the moment her hand flexes around the handle of the black cane at her side (in every possible alternate universe, you hope Max Mayfield always has a cool weapon to defend herself with).

The adults of the group are in various forms of relax around Forest Hills park- Joyce stacks paper plates at a nearby picnic table while Hopper is close behind, muttering things that make her laugh, earning playful little swats from her free hand; Jon, Argyle, and Eddie gave the classic “taking a walk” excuse to Mrs. Byers about twenty minutes back, the heady smell of weed drifting from the sparse forest nearly imperceptible over the smell of cooking meat.

Robin’s at your feet, the length of your legs supporting her torso as your fingers work to tie off the neat braid you’ve just finished on the left side of her hair. She’s been letting it grow, since the shitshow of last year- tawny brown locks swing just past her upper shoulders now.

“And I really mean it, this time- Keith’s out to get me,” Robin is saying, wiggling despite your instruction to “Sit still, or your right braid’s gonna be all fucked up,” gripping the strands of her hair a bit tighter in warning. She complies, then huffs out- “Steve, are you even listening back there?”

Steve hums. He’s by your side on the bench, a spot that you’d snagged early on for the both of you- under the comforting shade of a big willow tree, slightly on the outskirts of all the activity. Heat and direct sunlight can sometimes mess with Steve’s vision, loud noise has the potential to fuck with his hearing- facts of life he hasn’t so much told you rather than the result of many quiet observations about your partner over the course of a year.

Steve doesn’t like to talk about it. He’s not interested in rehashing the past, tunes out Eddie’s dramatics whenever the curly-haired boy’s story-telling nature arises; the only thing Steve hates more than remembering is being remembered- by Joyce, tearfully thanking him for being brave and saving her boys; by Hopper, with a firm pat to the shoulder and a stilted speech of unsung heroics; even by Robin, who gets in on the recollections in defiance of Steve’s glare, her hands arcing through the air to recreate the whoosh of his wooden oar.

Alcohol also tends to affect Steve differently, in this post-fight world that you all now live- but he’s taking sips from a cooler-chilled can of beer, thick-framed glasses resolutely off and buried in that nest of hair. You’d given him a look, earlier, when he’d walked back to give Robin a soda, hands still wet from digging around in the ice- but if Steve noticed your worry he didn’t respond to it, instead pressing a freezing can of Coke to the bare skin of Robin’s leg, backing down with a laugh when she squealed and got one good smack in against his arm.

“I’m listening, Robs,” Steve says, leaning forward to rest elbows on knees, condensation dripping off the can of Coors Light between his hands. “Keith’s been on one lately. I’ll fight him for you, if y’want.”

Robin snorts. You fit another elastic around her second braid, just as she brings her fist up to bump against Steve’s. “We’ll tag team him. Out back by the dumpsters. Great place to hide a body.”

“Jesus, Robin,” Steve chides, over the sound of your giggle.

She pushes herself up from off the ground, smoothing hands over her fresh braids as she thanks you, then turns to walk towards the huddled group of teens, winking over her shoulder- “Gotta show the kiddies what a real Checker Champ looks like.”

There’s a din of excitement as Robin joins, cheering and clapping echoing across the lawn- beside you, Steve stiffens, just slightly.

You pretend not to notice, instead scooching over until your shorts-covered thigh is pressing against his leg. Steve makes a happy noise in the back of his throat, wraps the arm not impeded by a beer can around your shoulders, tucking his nose to the top of your head.

“Feeling okay?” You try to keep your tone light, neutral, plucking a stray thread from Steve’s jeans absentmindedly.

He nods into your hair, squeezing your opposite shoulder- “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

Ignoring his immediate deflection in the form of a question, you spread your hand flat over his thigh, thumb running up the side seam of denim, a bit more earnest in your questioning- “It’s just- are you okay? You’d tell me if you wanted to go home, right? You know I’m always happy to make some excu-”

“I don’t want to go home. I’m fine.”

Steve rarely ever interrupts you, even more rare that he speaks to you with any sort of anger, which is why the sharpness of those short sentences is enough to have you pulling back to look at him, incredulous and a little wounded (though you do your best not to show it).

He seems to realize his mistake as soon the words are out of his mouth; Steve winces, palm still warm over your shoulder blade, comforting squeeze as he cuts in, quickly- “Honey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just- I’m good, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”

Your eyes roam over his face: the deep-set apology in those amber eyes, the soft lock of hair flopping over his forehead, the twist at the corner of his mouth. You fit your thumb to it, and the shape changes, your heart lurching as he smiles against your touch. “Steve-”

“Steve!”

The moment you say his name softly there’s a louder, more piercing version being yelled from a few yards away, Dustin waving frantically amidst Robin’s triumphant cackles- “Steve! Stop making out and come help, Robin’s whipping our asses!”

Steve blinks, and you can pinpoint the exact second he gives in, shuttering those walls back up with a straightened spine. One tender kiss to your palm, then he rises, leaving the beer in his empty seat- “Duty calls.”

After a robust round of Crazy Checkers surrounded by shrieking children, Steve’s energy is waning, you can tell- there’s this certain way he holds himself, little indicators of pain and discomfort that you’ve learned to pick up on; his finger taps mindlessly on the rim of his plastic water cup, the space between his neck and shoulders is one tight line, and his silence has been absorbed by the miasma of noise all around.

No one else seems to have noticed, too absorbed in eating and joking with mouthfuls of food, everyone crammed around two shoved-together picnic tables.

Robin jostles into your side reaching for the ketchup, which in turn makes you bump into Steve on your right; when you hear the sharp intake of his breath, you lean in, careful to keep up appearances, making it seem like you’re whispering a sweet nothing, hand cupped around his ear to dampen all the other sounds.

“Will you let me take you home?”

Should’ve known that wasn’t gonna work. Steve squeezes your leg under the table, his hand wracked with tiny tremors, smile tight and not reaching his eyes as he turns to whisper back, “Quit asking. Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

So goddamn stubborn. Well, so be it, Harrington. You scoff, as if he’s just told a joke timed to the beat of overlapping conversations, and peel yourself off of his side.

Cool air seeps up your bare arm where it had been kept warm in the crook of Steve’s own arm. It feels strange, to not have some sort of constant contact- but if Steve is playing the obstinate game, count you in.

Twenty minutes later, lunch and its accompanying mess has been cleared away, many hands making light work, and Eddie has brought out his stereo system to try and goad the anti-dancers of the group to join a makeshift dance floor.

Jonathan’s playing at being too post-meal sleepy to move off the bench, while Will and Eddie tussle and pull at him, and everyone’s laughing but you can’t focus on anything other than Steve- silent and stiff at your side, doing the bare minimum of human interaction to fly under the radar of suspicion.

Your radar, however, is finely tuned, and you know he’s minutes away from needing to be horizontal; it’s physically painful to keep your hands to yourself as they long to soothe, hugging arms-crossed around your own middle to keep from reaching for him.

Jonathan joins the dance circle with shambling reluctance, and when everyone cheers, Steve’s voice is at your ear, faint and sounding like a shadow of himself- “Gonna use the bathroom. Save me a piece of pie.” And with a final squeeze to your shoulder, he starts back down the path to the Munson’s new trailer.

Two minutes is a rather generous amount of time, in your opinion, to stay seated- until Robin splits from the jumping, dancing fray, light sheen of sweat on her forehead as she bends towards your seated form- “If you wanna go check on Dingus, I’ll make up a good excuse for you both.”

Overwhelmed with gratefulness and anxiety, you pull Robin into a quick hug, then make a smooth break for the winding gravel path.

The noises of the party fade as you walk through the door of the trailer, wiping your feet on the Welcome mat but keeping them on in case you need to make a quick exit with a sick partner in tow.

“Steve?” You keep your calling quiet, rounding the corner of the sun-warmed trailer walls towards the sliding bathroom door, then pull up short- Steve’s sitting against the closed door, on the outside of it, shoes planted on the rug, hands in fists at his side.

His head is tipped forward, resting on bent knees; his glasses are tucked by one arm into the neck of his collared tee, bellows of his breath coming shallow and quick.

Sinking to your knees beside him, you press a hand to the back of his neck, firm pressure against the taut muscle, attempting to bring some relief; Steve makes a choked, whimpery noise, and it almost breaks you.

A wave of helplessness washes through your veins; in defiance of the feeling, you suck in a steadying breath, grasping at adrenaline-fueled resolve as you run through the mental checklist of warning signs.

Thanks to Doc Owens (and the one-and-only appointment you forced Steve into last year, when you found him passed out on your kitchen floor from overheating in the summer sun), you know what to look for, and it gives purpose to your movements.

Steve’s breathing is rapid but not emergency-levels; he’s sweating, but not entirely through his shirt, yet; you get him to lift his head with murmured encouragement- thick lashes rimmed with tears, flushed cheeks reflecting heat back into your palms, and you find what you’re looking for- the black of his pupils equally dilated, twin moons almost eclipsing the almond-brown of his irises.

Last time Steve got a migraine, it lasted for hours, a whole sweltering afternoon of him pale and in pain on your couch, arm draped over his eyes while you kept a rotating supply of fresh ice packs to his temples and top of his spine.

The worst part of all, besides seeing Steve in pain, is the fact that he so resolutely denies himself the help that he would give others, in a heartbeat. Years of putting himself on a back burner, of making sure his nearest and dearest are taken care of before he even thinks about his own needs, have stuck firm.

Steve doesn’t have any heels left to dig in, now, as you feel the slide-grind of his teeth beneath your hands; you let your thumbs brush down his cheeks, a small movement to say I’m here, I’m not leaving you, and his eyes flutter shut.

“Gonna take you home,” you say, soft as your hands that drop to the broad width of his shoulders, “And this time I’m not asking.”

“Okay,” Steve manages, voice thin and strained, and you hate how much that single word is soaked in defeat.

Moving slow, you manage to get Steve on his feet- he leans heavy against you, waving off your offer to get Robin or Eddie to help with a simple and devastatingly earnest “Please, don’t, just want you-”; at a snail’s pace down the hall, in tandem down the front steps, Steve’s eyes slamming shut to block out the waning light of the sunset as you guide him to the Beemer, thankfully out of sight from the party.

You get him settled in the passenger seat, pocketing his glasses and sliding the seatbelt into place across his chest with a click; while you don’t want to make Steve feel any more childlike than he already probably feels, you can’t stop from pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling away, adding in a voice that you hope is quiet enough-

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it in the glovebox, okay? This is my boyfriend’s car, and I can’t have him knowing I’m taking strays home. Especially since you’re so handsome.”

Steve smiles weakly at your joke- his eyes are still closed but he catches your hand wrapped around the seatbelt, brings your knuckles up to his lips- “Sure thing, honey.”

There are footsteps crunching up the gravel, and you straighten in the tight space of the partially open car door to find Robin approaching.

She stops a few feet away, hands planted on her hips with a shake of her head. “Jesus, Harrington, you look like shit.”

Steve, eyes still closed and leaning back on the headrest, says to you in an obvious, scratchy stage-whisper- “Maybe if we stay reaaaal still, she won’t know we’re here.”

“If you didn’t look ready to keel over at any moment, I’d punch you for that,” Robin snipes, rocking heel to toe in her converse, locking eyes with you- “Need a good excuse?”

Relief washes out any remaining traces of helplessness. You breathe a sigh. “Yes. Please and thank you, Robs.”

“I got you covered. Emergency at the office, sink sprung a leak, a goldfish death in the family- got ‘em locked and loaded.” She shoots you two exuberant thumbs up, then sobers a bit, expression dropping. “Just. Take care of him, okay?”

You shut the car door with the least amount of noise you can manage, bumping your hip into the handle so the inner latch catches, then squeeze Robin’s hand on your way to the driver’s seat. “I will, Robin. I’ll call your landline later, let you know if he’s up for visitors.”

With a final salute, the ends of Robin’s hair fan out as she jogs back to the party, outdoor sounds disappearing as you duck into the car.

The ride home is mostly silent as you listen for Steve’s breathing, taking each stop sign and turn in the road with measured slowness. Brake, check for signs of life, and creep onwards.

You’re less than three blocks from Loch Nora when Steve leans into the sling of his belt, one hand flat against the dash, the other to his stomach, and you’re quick to swallow down panic, asking in what you hope is a calm voice, “Are you gonna throw up?”

“No,” Steve says, chin dropping to his chest, huffing- then, quietly, “Maybe.”

You’ve already pulled off the main road, throwing the gear shift into park before unbuckling and scrambling around in the seat pocket behind you, plastic grocery bag you’d stashed months ago for occasions such as this crinkling in your fist.

Steve’s fingers on the dash curl into a fist. There’s a spike of alarm you claw at, capture, and shove back, unable to quell the rush of murmured comfort as you lean across the middle console- “Here, baby. ‘S okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe…”

Steve doesn’t take the bag that you press into his left hand, still in a fist at his abdomen; his eyes are squeezed shut under slanted dark brows, and tears begin leaking out, coursing in rivulets down cheeks gone pallid. His voice is barely more than a croak when he speaks.

“I just want to be normal.”

And then, Steve’s crying in earnest: short breathy sobs and strung-out whimpers, like the only thing that hurts more than the act of crying itself would be to hold it all in.

The plastic bag gets shoved to the side as you pull Steve in, hands soothing down the shuddering planes of his back, your voice soothing and breaking in equal measure- “I know, baby, I know, I’m so sorry…”

Hot tears drip down your neck as his forehead rolls against your shoulder. Steve’s hands ball into fists, fabric of your shirt caught in his desperate grounding attempt, fighting through the wreck to speak broken secrets against your bare skin-

“Jus’ wanna be normal. Just want to drink a fucking beer without getting a goddamn headache afterwards. I wanted to stay at the party, wanted to…”

Breath catching, a fresh jolt of pain, and Steve’s whimpering like a child against your chest, unspooling a release that’s been building for over a year- Steve never affords himself time for a breakdown, and it’s all coming to a head now.

“It’s not fair,” Steve grits out. He’s doing his best to ride the wave but it’s threatening to pull him under; you can tell by the sinking weight of his head at your collarbone, the way his hands loosen and go lax at your sides, sobs giving way to gritting teeth and steel-tight jaw as Steve battles back the slicing pain in his head.

You know this is a purging, of sorts, and you’re grateful that your boy feels safe enough around you to let go and feel, but you also know that him getting worked up is just going to prolong an already-bad migraine.

So you let your hands drift up again, take his face between your palms, let his forehead rest against yours, speaking low, stripped raw with honesty.

“You’re right, honey. It’s not fair.” Your thumbs smooth gentle against his cheeks, under the dark lashes that flutter into your touch. “I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, and you’re allowed to be upset- but right now, I need you to just breathe, okay, Stevie? Can you do that for me?”

It gives Steve something to focus on, instead of spiraling out- he’s obedient, clutching at your shirt again, eyes shut in concentration, trying to match his too-fast breathing to your steadied tempo. Your fingers wind into the longer pieces of hair at the base of his skull, notching against the pressure points Doc Owens instructed you on ages ago.

Steve shivers. Lets out a dry, choking laugh that sounds nothing like him. “Couldn’t even last one full afternoon.”

He sounds so disappointed in himself. It makes your heart ache, tears stinging at your own eyes as you respond, still gentle despite your first instinct to bite back against his self-loathing. “Steve, give yourself some credit. You’re doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances.”

Steve scoffs, makes to lean back and away but your hands stop him in his tracks, nose to nose with you now as you insist, “When you had to drive Max home because her leg was hurting during Will’s birthday party, you didn’t judge her, right? Didn’t question why she needed a ride home?”

With this proximity, you can see the light dusting of freckles spanning the width of his cheeks, color returning slow but sure. He doesn’t try to pull away again so you keep speaking. “And all those times you’ve taken care of me during a nightmare, or had to come home early ‘cuz I just couldn’t stand an empty room. Remember?

“You were there for me. Always have been, just like I’m gonna be here for you. Better or worse, Harrington. You’re stuck with me.”

There’s a puff of warm air against your lips, a half-laugh but you’ll take it, pulling him in by the elbows, nuzzling against the side of Steve’s tear-lined face for a close hug as you whisper, “I’m really glad you’re alive.”

Your nose follows the slope of his neck down, brushes at the rippled line of scarring, tissue healed but still lightly raised in a ring at the base of his throat.

“Really glad,” you whisper, fiercely.

___

Steve lets you take him home. Even lets you baby him, a bit; though you make a solid effort to not infantilize him, there lives in you a deep desire to swaddle Steve in a blanket and keep him there. Safe from all the swirling noise and light and too-bright colors of the harsh world.

You compromise. Get Steve stretched out on the couch, take his shoes off with a calculated swoop-tug, lay his favorite green knitted blanket over the length of his body.

There’s a pill bottle on the kitchen counter that you pocket, leaving his glasses folded in its place. Blue ice pack burning-cold until you wrap a thin dishcloth around it to take out the sting, you bring it to Steve’s side along with a glass of water.

He takes the pills you offer with a wince- sitting up causes the blood to pound at his temples so you help him back down, sliding the ice pack into place at the top of his spine where the pain is blooming.

From your place on the floor, you monitor Steve, one hand stroking soft at his chest to lull his breaths to normal. After a few minutes, his brows smooth out; a few more, and he’s taking careful blinks in the low-lit room.

“C’mere,” he says, voice still scratchy, doe-brown eyes pleading, catching your hand on the upstroke and giving a small tug. When you start to protest, he whines, sounding more and more like himself by the minute- “Come here, baby. Please.”

Another compromise. Keeping the jostling to a minimum, you settle into Steve’s side, ear pressed over the thumping beat of his heart, arms fit around his waist.

Steve holds you. Breathes. Says, “Thanks. ‘M sorry we had to leave so early.”

Nose tilting up, you kiss against his scar again. “It’s okay. I really didn’t want to dance, and Eddie was about to drag my ass out there against my will so really, you did us all a favor.”

Under your head, Steve’s chest dips and rises with a laugh. His lips press into the crown of your head, and you can feel his smile as he says, “You’re dancin’ with me next time. I wanna see some ass shaking at our next family barbecue.”

You exhale a laugh, too, kiss his jaw, his cheek. “Okay, Swayze. Next time.”

Eventually, you both fall asleep, winding down sleepy and safe in each other’s arms, Steve’s pain eased to near-extinction with the care you’ve given him.

Later you’ll call Robin, give her an update for her peace of mind, cuddle up to Steve some more and listen to a record.

But for now, you’ve got a boy in your arms and the warmth of his body as your anchor into the dreaming.

[engeorged]

Aster's Maze

Follow up to Obi's Place and Santa’s Otto

Art by @badoobers

Words by @engeorged

I know it’s been over a year since I posted, but it’s been quite a journey for me. One I’m not even sure if I’m ready to talk about. The encounter with Obi changed me somehow and I’m not the same person I was. I can’t quite seem to settle anywhere for very long any more. I feel restless, and to be blunt, like I’m not quite fully present wherever I am.  My mind is always in a different place?

Let me go right back. By now, you’ve probably read about my encounter at Obi’s place. I’m not gonna lie, I was a wreck for a few days. It was like a hangover meets a sausage casing? The amount of food he’d packed in me took days to digest. I was swollen for 72 hours, not really able to do anything but sleep and go to the toilet. (I’ll spare you the details although I’m aware a few of you out there will want them you dirty bastards!!) I didn’t check my messages the whole time but after my last post, a lot of you had reached out to me. Turns out there’s quite a few of these guys around and they don’t fuck about! The pictures you all sent me were quite eye opening! (That's maybe for another post!)

The whole thing felt like a dream, but on reflection I realised it was a pretty good dream. I hate to admit it, but being able to eat that much food was quite a turn on. I tried for months to find him again and ask what he did to me. I’ve not been able to repeat it by myself, and trust me, I’ve tried. I can’t really even eat half of what he put into me. Every few weeks I would sit down in a restaurant or a buffet place and just block the afternoon out and eat as much as I could to see what would happen. Now I’m a big guy (and getting bigger!) and I could probably out eat most people if it came down to it but there’s just no way I can get as full as I did that morning. My belly is definitely increasing in size and capacity but still, without whatever magic he was using I can’t do it again. 

To cut a long story short, I ended up travelling. The few stories you sent me (that weren’t totally nuts) were fascinating, but from all over the world. I’ve been searching for trolls in Norway, piscies in the UK, dragons in china, tikoloshes in Africa. Nothing! Not a single bite. I was starting to believe that maybe it was a hallucination from being so over tired. Maybe the stripes on the road had hypnotised me as I drove or something. 

I’m currently living in Greece for a bit. I’ve pretty much run out and so I found a casual labour job on a building site in Greece. It’s a bit of a shit show to be honest,  but all I have to do is turn up and lay bricks for a few hours in the afternoon and I get paid! The extra bit of timber I’d put on means I break a sweat the second I get up, as even though it’s early autumn, here it’s still 24 degrees by midday! 

It was coming up to lunch time on the site when I started feeling a bit faint. I realised I’d not had anything to drink for a few hours and I was super dehydrated. I grabbed my water bottle and when lifted to my lips, only a few drips came out, so I had a scan of the area and saw a guy with a cart selling gyros and beers. Usually the street food was pretty good around here so I headed over, still wearing my tight high viz vest. As I got close to the stand I started to realise how hot the guy was selling them, now I’m newly ‘out’ and so I don’t still fully know what my type is but I can tell you reader, this guy was everyone’s type. He was stacked, his arms were like ripe watermelons and as I got close I realised how huge he was. I’ve told you I’m 6’5, but this guy towered over me. He must have been 7 feet easily. His hair was everywhere and he had this crazy medallion around his neck with a symbol on it I recognised from somewhere. 

Now, I know my story has ended up on some niche websites and blogs, so I know what you pervs are all waiting for. So here it is. His gut was potentially the hottest thing I have ever seen. It was huge. He was so tall it was practically oval. Firm and round and pushing against the buttons in his shirt. It was like he wasn’t even tempted to hide it. In fact, as I approached, he lifted his arms above his head to stretch which meant that there was a good three or four inches of furry dome poking out from underneath. He looked as stuffed as I was at Obi’s. As I got nearer I started to regret my decision to go over. I must have looked like an absolute state. I was wearing my battered work jeans and fluorescent jacket, covered in brick dust and sweat and I absolutely stank. A 280 lbs slab of man like me working in 30 degree heat is a recipe for funk, and I was dripping with it. He looked up and saw me so there was no going back, I committed and walked up trying to look cool. Something about him made me want to melt into a puddle. I said ‘Yasass’ in my best Greek accent and he replied with a bass filled ‘Hello, how can I help you’ in perfect English. His accent was vaguely British with a hint of Greek overlayed. The rumble of his voice made something shift inside me. I think I was in love. 

I ordered two beers and paid him. Lifting it to my lips, thirst took over and downed one on the spot. I didn’t really want to leave, I wanted to try and get his number or something. I downed the second beer and I could see it must have impressed him as he leant forward in his cart and offered me another. I ordered two and offered him one which he took. We stood chatting about the weather and what I was up to and as we chatted he started putting together a huge gyro full of amazing smelling meat. There was a hint of salad at the bottom but the thing was packed as tight as his shirt. He wrapped it up with his strong hands and offered it to me. I took it immediately and took a big bite, within minutes the thing had gone. It was the best tasting thing I’d ever had. When I finished I realised he’d just been watching me eat it, not saying anything. His dark eyes focussed on me making me feel very seen. He had very keen eyes that looked deep into my soul. (I know how pretentious that sounds, don't worry, but you’ll see I’m right in a minute!)

I jokingly said I could eat another one and before I’d finished my sentence he had one there in his large paw! I won’t bore you with the details because there will be a lot more later but suffice to say I ate 3 of his huge gyros. I was substantially full, my own belly was beginning to push out against my work clothes and I’m pretty sure I lost a button  I offered to pay but he wouldn’t take it. He just said he’d see me again. I went back to work on the site very full and very horny!

I stopped by for lunch every day for the next week and a half. In the evenings I discovered he owned a small but very cool restaurant bar selling the same food but with the addition of a whole selection of spirits and cocktails. It was a full two weeks before I plucked up the courage to ask him out. There was just something about him that drew me in. Reflecting back I don’t know if we actually spoke about much. Even now I know very little about him. All I remember is his huge belly, round and tight, every day staring at me. Perfection in a fursuit. I remember that he had a few piercings. The medallion round his neck had chains coming off it connecting to nipple piercings. He also had a heavy gold nose ring, which, if I wasn’t thinking with my dick, might have been a bit of a clue. I was looking out for whatever Obi was, not whatever he was. And is, I guess? 

On reflection, and with what I know now, he was strategically increasing my already substantial belly capacity for the game. (More on that later) Every meal, he would give me a little bit more food. A bag of stuffed vine leaves here, some baklava there, extra meat in the wrap, a special sauce, larger wraps. Before I knew it I was eating 6 of his gyros twice a day with whatever accompaniments he palmed off on me that day. Every evening I would spend bloated and swollen, nursing my aching stomach whilst thinking of Aster. (Oh I forgot, one thing I did get out of him was his name) I guess I should add that I didn’t twig what was happening in case that’s not obvious. I was bewitched by everything about him to the point where I didn’t realise he was testing me out for something much bigger. 

A few weeks in I had a penny drop moment, I’d just finished my 6th evening gyro and he was making me one more to finish me off. My belly was huge, packed with the supply of food he’d been encouraging me to eat. I was wearing a now painted-on shirt and I was standing in the street at 5pm obediently stuffing myself silly with his street food. I’d gone past full a few gyros ago and it was now simply pushing and stretching my stomach more and more. The feeling of the stretch (as some of you probably know) is exquisite. I’d experienced it fully with Obi and I’d been chasing that feeling all over the world to get to that place of total engorged capacity and it dawned on me suddenly I was there again. Something about that day made me realise I'd met another one of these creatures. Aster wasn’t human. 

I swallowed down my last bite and took the next one from his massive hairy hand. I looked at him properly for maybe the first time. Looking past my own lust and attraction and I saw that he wasn’t quite ‘right’. His hair was shaped in such a way that hair didn’t really grow. His side burns were much more than a side beard and that ring in his nose was huge because his nose was so large and flat. And his belly! No human belly would ever be that size and rounded shape when it was that big. It would be sagging down over his belt, not sitting proudly on top of it defying gravity. I started eating the food he’d made me and asked him outright. ‘Who are you?’ He looked me in the eye and said with a slightly crooked grin ‘Obi said you could eat.’ 

I stood back aghast. He was one of them. I had so many questions. But before I could ask any of them he started packing up his cart. I found myself rooted to the spot while he packed away. I literally couldn’t move. As he grabbed the handles he turned to me and put his large hand on top of my distended stomach and winked. And that’s when I saw it. The little purple twinkle in his eye. With that, he was gone and I was finally able to move. The fullness I was not noticing yet hit me and I nearly sat down on the pavement where I stood but I managed to pull myself together and make it back to the site where I did very little work. He’d fed me as much as Obi had done but without me noticing. And I let him! 

I could hardly wait for opening time at the restaurant that evening.  Still full from lunch,  I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to ask him out or just demand some answers. When I saw him behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a tea towel I knew what I wanted. I marched right up to the counter but before I had a chance to speak he pulled out a single purple rose which he handed me. As I looked at him in the low light, I realised all his confidence had fallen away and he was genuinely a little nervous. Turns out he’d fallen for me too. He ended up asking me on a date. Who knew a 7 foot tall Minotaur would be such a hopeless romantic. (Yeah I just dropped that in. I didn’t know how else to say it really! It is what it is?) He told me that he finished around midnight but that he had somewhere he wanted to take me and would that be alright. I agreed, obviously! And parked myself on a table by the window to wait for him. 

Even though the restaurant was pretty busy, he found time to be quite attentive. Every hour he brought me another rose and a plate of something to eat. By the time it was midnight I had a vase full of flowers and a belly full of Greek food! Bear in mind I was stuffed from lunch and I arrived at the restaurant at 6. So do the math to work out how full I currently am. That’s important for the rest of the story! As the final customers left I watched as he whipped round the place lifting the chairs and sweeping up as fast as he could. It was kind of cute to see how keen he was. When it was all done he explained to me that he wanted to take me somewhere that was special to him, somewhere he thought I would enjoy. He looked a little sheepish but I agreed. We walked through town (slowly I might add, I was basically round at this point) as he held my hand. Not many people can make me feel small but walking around holding this giant's hand was quite humbling. At this point I think my belly was bigger than his but he was still over half a foot taller than me. Being near him calmed my stomach too. It was like I was just pleasantly full when I was near him, not dangerously packed to bursting. We chatted a little bit but we mainly walked in silence, happy in each other's company.

We arrived at a sort of park on the edge of town. There were a few ruins we walked past but we ended up at the edge of what looked like a small cave. In any other setting I would have run a mile but he has been so tender with me I just felt super safe. In the moonlight, at the edge of the cave we stood looking into each other's eyes. He slowly leant in to kiss me and I let him. As he leant back I felt myself rooted to the spot again unable to move. He started walking backwards into the cave and as the dark consumed him he winked again and beckoned me to follow him. After a minute the effects of whatever it was wore off and I was able to slowly walk into the cave. After a few steps I discovered that  it was lit all along by torches and it started to become more of a corridor. There was no sign of Aster but I carried on into the maze. As I walked I felt a little rumble in my stomach. I brushed it off as just digestion starting and kept going. After a few turns it saw a few petals in the ground. The massive softie had left me a trail to follow. 

Eventually, I came across a small recess in the wall with a little table set into it and a candle. I sat down on one of the chairs and Aster emerged from out of the darkness with two heavy cloched plates. He sat down and put the plates in front of us. He pulled the cloches off to reveal a sizeable plate of oysters. I smiled and he smiled back. I found myself inexplicably hungry and went to take my first one, but he leant over and stopped me. He picked up a large oyster and lifted it to my lips. I smiled and opened my mouth and titled my head back. If I’m totally honest I’ve never eaten oysters before but I’d seen it in films. I knew I was supposed to swallow them whole so fortunately I didn’t make a tit of myself. I don’t know if you’ve had them before but I’m not gonna lie, they taste good but they are like swallowing snot! Being fed them was hot though! Knowing I had the full attention of this slab of man was really doing it for me! He fed me a few and then sat back and I did the same for him! Watching his heavy Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed was a surprising new kink I discovered in that cave! 

Suffice to say, it was like time worked differently in that cave. We’d only been there a few minutes and there were a fair few oysters on each of our plates. Maybe 3 dozen each? They didn’t really take long to eat but it felt like we were there for hours. I wasn’t counting the oysters but by the time we’d cleared the plates, my belly had advanced quite a way. Like way more than a few dozen oysters would have done. It was still tight and round but it was a lot bigger and heavier. It appeared that my tank top had ripped at the edges and so I just took it off. Even though we were underground it wasn’t cold so I was happy in just my jeans. 

I looked at Aster and he had the biggest grin on his face. His own belly was beginning to blow out from our oyster binge. I could see even more of his substantial furry belly pushing out from his shirt. I wasn’t sure if he looked taller at that point? Everything about him was larger in some way and he was meatier and hairier too. (Yes every part of him was bigger. I won’t say more than that!) He was absentmindedly rubbing the underneath of his belly curve as he watched me readjust to my new bloated mass. His eyes were both kind and predatory at the same time. We stood there for a little while admiring one another until he winked and shimmered like Obi used to. With that he was gone and the chase was back on. I lumbered on further into the maze of tunnels, my swollen midsection slowing me down considerably. The path twisted and turned as I was led deeper in. 

I couldn’t tell you how long it was until I found him. At first, I began to hear running water and so, for want of any other clues, I followed the noise. The walls of the maze were beginning to look less constructed by human hands and more cave-like, I guess? Stone bricks giving way to actual stone. I even thought I saw a few flashes of gemstones here and there but I was more interested in my next meal. Even though I must have eaten a week's worth of food so far, I was still inexplicably hungry. I don’t know if I can describe how it felt. My insides felt packed full. Like totally solid. There was very little give to my belly. And yet I knew I wanted more. Actually I needed more. The stretched feeling I have when I’m around these guys is something I’ve never experienced before. 

Eventually, the water got louder and louder until I walked through a stone archway and found myself in a cavernous expanse. The sound of water turned out to be an underground waterfall, the water cascading down into a piercing blue lagoon. The ceiling was lit with some sort of glowing insects which were making a melodic rhythmic chirping sound. I searched around the expanse until I found him. He was sitting with his legs in the water next to a fire where he seemed to be grilling fish. It was the first time I’d seen his legs and they were indeed as you would imagine them to be. Covered in thick black hair. I couldn’t see his feet as they were in the water but I am guessing he didn’t have five toes at this point. It seemed that he was becoming more of his true self the closer we got to the centre. I made my way round and joined him sitting by the water. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been. We sat there for a few moments in silence. Enjoying the beauty. I realised after a while that he was holding my hand.  He turned his attention to the fire and pulled out a perfectly grilled fish which he placed next to himself and he began to break off pieces of the succulent meat and began feeding it to me. The fish melted in my mouth. It was so succulent and tender. I ate the whole thing quickly and he brought a second fish over and put his hands back on the floor as a signal for me to feed him. I obliged, tenderly placing it into his mouth. We did this for a while until all the fish he was cooking had gone. He leant forward and I thought he was going to kiss me again but instead he plunged his hand into the water and pulled out more fish. I’m no expert but I know one of them was a Salmon, and a pretty big one at that. And I think there was a rainbow trout and something else sort of blue? We carried on eating and cooking and eating and cooking for hours. The time weirdness means I have no idea how long we were there or how many I ate at this point, but looking at the both of us we were both much bigger. I don’t know if it’s part of the atmosphere or I genuinely ate that much but there it was.  My own belly was enormous. Way bigger than I had been in the diner. His gut was spectacular. Round and hairy and now totally free from his shirt. Bear in mind he was nearly 8 feet at this point.

He reached over and tenderly began to massage my own swollen stomach. His hands, surprisingly gentle, but firm. I closed my eyes and relaxed and basically let him do what he wanted to me. All of my senses seemed to be heightened, every little touch was like a wave of ecstasy flowing across my skin. His smell was heady, strong and potent and filling my nostrils. Eventually, I realised he’d gone but I stayed there for a little while longer. Partly because it was so beautiful but also partly because I could hardly move. 

I pulled myself to my feet, hauling my cantilevered belly up. It was still self supporting and jutting straight out from me into the air. I wished there was a mirror somewhere so I could have seen it properly. I saw an opening in the wall near the waterfall so I followed it through into a darker and more narrow part of the maze. The walls were closer than before and there were a few parts where I was worried I might not get through with my newly ballooned gut. After a while I started to smell the aromatic smell of cooking pork which made me instantly hungry again. I followed the smell and found three doors with a riddle written above it. I can’t remember the riddle but it was something about liars and guessing the way. You can probably guess that I’m not the smartest guy, I’m not dumb, but when it comes to stuff like riddles I’m out. My belly was rumbling loud at this point too so I was distracted. I decided to just listen at each of the doors. Door one I could hear a whistling noise which I reckoned was some sort of drop. Door two was a distinct growling snore. Although Aster was super stuffed I was pretty sure it wasn’t him asleep, and having met some of these guys I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a cute teddy bear behind there! I approached door three and had a listen. I could just about hear a sizzling sound and with the smell of pork I couldn’t handle it so I threw the door open. I wasn’t disappointed! 

The room was a small stone cell with a fire pit sunk in the bottom. On top of it was a decently sized pig on a spit. I couldn’t see Aster so I stepped in gingerly. The door closed behind me and as I turned it dissolved into the wall. There was no way out. I stepped into the room and looked into the shadows at the edges.  And there he was, taller than ever. As he stepped out into the light of the fire I could see he’d changed more. The first thing I noticed were the horns that had now sprouted from the top of his head. They weren’t massive but they were slightly curved and protruding from his thicker hair. The hair wasn’t just thicker on his head either. He’d now taken off his shirt and I could see the extent of it. He was pretty much covered in thick black hair all over his arms and sides. Virtually the only skin visible was across his bloated sphere of a belly. And that had a decent covering all along the bottom of the curve stretching up to a thick happy trail that snaked up to his hairy pierced pecs. The thick gold chain connects to his medallion. 

He spoke with a deep gravelly voice that I could literally feel in my feet. He told me under no circumstances was there to be any pork left before we left this place. Under any other situation I would have laughed. The pig had to be 200 lbs of meat. That would literally have taken any normal person a few weeks to eat. But here, with him, I knew right there that we would do it. I was apprehensive to think about how much my stomach would distend after that but I knew that whatever this place was it would be ok. I walked up to him and put my hands firmly on the sides of his thick belly and looked up. He looked down at me and bent his head to kiss me on the lips again. I smiled and sighed with contentment. Something special was about to happen. 

He pulled back and handed me a sharp knife, and took out one of his own and cut a slab of meat. The juices were rubbing down his arm. He pulled off the crackling and greedily began to eat it, crunching and swallowing it down. He offered me the meat and I eagerly opened my mouth to receive it. It tasted even better than it smelt and within minutes the whole slab had disappeared into me. We continued to feed one another the pork for a while, taking it in turns to slice off large chunks of flesh and sharing the delicious meat. We were soon covered in the stuff, our bellies continuing their rapid expansions. As we progressed, instead of slowing down we began to speed up. We even abandoned the knives and took to simply ripping off our next portions and guzzling down our haul. He fed me and I fed him and we ate ourselves. The boundaries of reality slipped away as we gorged on the meal together. (Yes I know that sounded a bit twatty but that’s how it felt. How many pigs have you shared with a fucking Minotaur?)

We didn’t take any breaks in our gluttony, the pig simply ended up inside both of us. I’d guess Aster ate more, simply because he is a good few feet taller than me but I didn’t notice him actually eating more. By the time the pig was reduced to bones we were both insanely swollen. My own gut was packed so big I couldn’t see anything else when I looked down. The skin tightly stretched over the vast quality of food it held inside itself. If I thought for a second about how much food I contained I’m not sure my brain could handle it. I looked like someone had slipped an air compressor up my arse and turned it on for a good half an hour. Physics had to be different in there because there was no way I’d have been able to stand up without some supernatural help. Looking at Aster, he was the same. Comically swollen, his huge abdomen surrounded by a sea of hair. The only difference between us is that you could still see some of his muscle definition.  The power and strength he contained was tangible when you looked at his animal-like frame. 

Covered in grease and bits of food we sat back admiring each other's new size. I wanna keep the story a touch modest, but he was clearly aroused by our efforts. I won’t go into details because I never kiss and tell, but fuck me he was a big boy! I’m glad there was magic in the site because after what we did next I could have ended up in hospital! 

After we had, erm, cuddled, we lay back with our heads next to one another. Our engorged stomachs stuck high into the air, solid and packed with food, unyielding in their size and volume. We stayed for a period of time and chatted about our lives. Aster clearly wasn’t wanting this to be a one off encounter. He was surprisingly affectionate and romantic for a half man half bull. He wanted to know all about me and my life and what my plans for the future were. It was such a tender moment I could have stayed there forever but Aster had one more plan up his sleeve. He pulled himself up easily and offered me a hand to help me up. I just about managed to get to my feet, helped by his superhuman strength I assume! Kissing me again he led me by the hand into the shadows where we found a new door. Fortunately, it was a double door as neither of us would have fit through anything smaller at this stage. We walked into a vast cavernous space. I didn’t think it was possible but it was even more beautiful than the underwater lagoon where we ate the fish. The glowing insects were back and this time other glowing creatures joined them. Small colourful lizards darted from rock to rock making patterns in the water that filled half the floor. Several smaller waterfalls fed this one, each framed by cascades of glowing plants with brightly shining flowers falling down.  Alongside the water was a long banqueting table covered with food. There were golden bowls and plates full of oversized fruits and bread. Huge slabs of roasted meats and wheels of cheese. At the end there appeared a large ornately decorated cornucopia which seemed to be the source of the food. Aster led me to the table and sat us both down in large oversized thrones. We’d made it to the centre of the labyrinth!

As we sat down, our swollen bellies resting on our legs I realised he had plans to carry on eating. Whatever magic was present meant I definitely felt hungry but there was no way I could physically move to get the food. I was practically pinned down underneath the sheer ridiculous size of my own belly. I was about to say this to Aster when I heard something move in the water. I looked across to see six men emerge from the water. I say men, we both know they weren’t that. If I had to guess I would say they were some sort of water nymphs? They had a pale bluey green tinge to their skin which had a faint shimmer to it as well. They were lithe and incredibly beautiful, their muscles and sinews visible underneath their skin. Their tight shorts left very little to the imagination and their eyes looked as hungry as I felt. They were here to feed us. 

I don’t know whether we were there for a few days or weeks or months. The food from the cornucopia kept coming and we kept eating. Non stop gorging, all enabled by the blue dudes. Their dexterous long fingers feeding us food and massaging our swelling bellies. We both ended up the size of trucks, our inhumanly swollen bellies stretching way past what was physically or morally possible. 

At some point we were done and we were pushed or rolled to the edge of the water. I slipped in and sank heavily to the bottom. Whether I was magically able to breathe underwater or whether I somehow didn’t need to breathe, I’m not sure, but Aster and I were able to move freely under the water. We swam for a while through caverns and caves, snaking away from the maze. When we surfaced we found ourselves on a small island just off the coast of the town. Away from the magical influence of the labyrinth, Aster was back to his more human form and his belly was vastly reduced but still clearly swollen. I was the same, my belly was huge, but it at least was obeying the laws of physics. Again, I don’t want to make the story any more r-rated than it needs to be so let’s say we spent some time with each other there. We needed some time to digest and recover as well. 

Friends, I don’t know whether what happened was a dream or some sort of vision, but I do know I’ve gained 50lbs in a few days. I have a very definite and prominent ball belly now, which I’m not unhappy about. I also have a new boyfriend. Unlike Obi, Aster was happy to stick around, so I do know that something happened. I don’t really want to ask too many questions from Aster because I don’t really mind if it was real or not. I know he’s here and I know we ate a shit ton of food and I know he’s not going anywhere

For the rest of my stories click here

[knightyoomyoui]

[COMMISSION] LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT  | TWICE x Male Reader  | CHAPTER : -PROLOGUE-

Welcome to another brand new TWICE fic series of mine! This story will serve both as an adaptation and a soft reboot of the TWICE horror-comedy book titled “Living With Vampires” written by SaiDaChae29 published in 2020 which was sadly left discontinued until now. For this one, it scrapped some of the parts from the original while others were kept and applied changes which will lead to its direct continuation. Special mention also to @nchris00 who ordered a commission and entrusted me to recreate this interesting story as his request. Hope this one won’t disappoint! Thank you so much again!

Now, let’s get this one started shall we? “LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT” By knightyoomyoui Commissioned by: @nchris00 Part: PROLOGUE Word Count: 1,681

PRESENT TIME

I tucked the maknaes on their bedsheets after I delivered the rest of the girls into their bedroom except for Jihyo and Jeongyeon who are the most sober ones. Mina didn’t drink though since she’s allergic to alcohol, but she still passed out from exhaustion because of how fun we have went on this special day.

“Jeonghoon, are you sure this is on you now?” Jihyo asked me concerned, she was yawning already and it showed me more that my unnies are also tired now too.

“Yeah, I can handle this Jihyo noona. You can both go to sleep now.” I nodded as I looked around at our living room that is cluttered with empty beer cans, chips and plates.

“You sure? Well, don’t forget to rest after this okay?” Jihyo told me.

“Yes, noona.”

“As much as I would love to help Jeonghoon but I’ll leave this one to you now okay? I’ll get back from you tomorrow.” Jeongyeon turned to speak.

“No worries, noona.”

“Goodnight, Jeonghoon.”

“Goodnight noonas.”

They all went upstairs now and I heard them closing the door. I also released my own yawn but I’m not that much sleepy yet unlike them so I decided to volunteer cleaning the room. Also, I wanted to sleep on the couch for tonight anyways since it’s more cold and fresh here.

I started to drag the trash can and some extra garbage bag with me so that I can easily dump the mess we all created around here. I started with the cans, then I tied the used bags before replacing it with a new one then I went outside the dorm to take this out on the nearest garbage station in this building’s storey.

Going back to the dorm, I then proceeded on collecting the used plates, stacking them up and placed them on the sink. I’m the type of guy who hates seeing stacked plates on the sink and kinda not a fan of washing dishes so I immediately cleaned it off rather than letting it become an eyesore when the girls or me woke up tomorrow.

After putting them on the drying rack, I changed my outfit to my pajamas and slumped my body back on the couch. I breathe deeply to feel its softness while I blink rapidly as I stare on the wall, thinking of something to do before I go the sleep since I still don’t feel like resting yet.

Then something crossed my mind.

We just watched some vlogs that the girls recommended from their favorite YouTube channels, so I thought of an idea that what if I make my own vlog tonight.

Well, not exactly a vlog where I go record not only myself, but the people and the place around wherever I go that will require a much more editing process, I just felt like recording myself.

I was thinking of what should I say on the video, until another thing gave me an idea on what should I do with it.

I grabbed my phone that I’m confident enough of its camera’s quality, using it as I start to record myself. I set it up on our table and grabbed the mini-vase as its support before I prepare myself on the couch and press the record button.

As the timer starts rolling, I began to speak to the camera.

“Hi, Min Jeonghoon here. Right now its already 12:30 AM and it’s very late but I’m not sleepy yet so… I just wanted to do something interesting that will probably drain the remaining energy I have left in my body haha, and I thought of recording this video talking about…

how I met these nine ladies who turns out to be also… vampires.

I get it, saying it as if it is real would make me look like I’m crazy. Well, not like the others out there. Some would say I just tell a silly joke, but some might… be as crazy as me. Because this isn’t just a fiction. I’m just a type of guy who knows how right or wrong people are. And right now, believe me when I tell you that I’m sorry but… vampires do exist.

But before, I get to introduce them to you all, let me clarify some cliches and stuffs that turns out to be myths for people to believe in and pass it in every generations for others to learn. I want to educate others based from my own experience, with what I’ve learned about them during the entire 2 years of living with them.

First off, they are not immortals. They’re almost like us humans BUT like I said, almost because the little part of it that them still differs from us is that they age but way too slowly. I think its because of their DNA that works 10 times slowers that the normal one, so imagine that a vampire looks like 20 years old, well guess it already that its age might actually be in 200 years or something.

Oh and also, speaking of blood, they do have a very active cells of immune system, so it is true that their wounds or injuries heal a lot faster.

Next off, does vampires need blood to survive? Yes. That’s probably like the most common thing that we see in the movies right? Everyone also would even have it as their primary guess about what do they think about vampires, but at the same time they wanted to also confirm it if it does yet sadly they think it’s just a fantasy. But here I am now, telling you from what my own eyes have seen that they do indeed need blood.

Additional clarification, they drink animal blood though, not humans… even if its more healthy than animals. But they have to, because I’ve known these girls already that they cannot bear to kill a person because they are better than that. So, they found an alternative which is actually pig blood, mostly similar to humans which was proven by some scientists through what we call a “xenotransfusion”, some type of blood transfusion to humans. 

What’s also interesting about them is that they do behave having it as their most crucial need. Just like humans, if us cannot standing drinking water or eating food for more than 3 days, well it’s the same thing that can be applied to them, only that the blood involves with it too. They starve and get thirsty much worse than humans, so I’m telling you that you really must be careful at the other vampires that you may encounter in the public that is suffering from this, because it won’t hesitate for a single second to kill you and help that vampire satisfy its needs.

Third one would be… hmm oh yeah, this is also quite commonly asked about vampires. Do they actually have fangs? Yes, and it ‘s retractable. It only extends when they’re about to feast something… or somebody. It grows definitely way sharper and longer than both humans and animals combined, but it’s almost unrecognizable unless you pay attention to it.

Well… I remember it happened on the first time seeing it on the first day I met them… yeah. Kinda scary, but I got trained to get used by it. It’s just that this one specific girl just loves to make fun of me with it.

Fourth of the most frequently asked questions would be about vampires hating the sunlight. Yup, they’re are not comfortable with it at all. Just imagine a skin getting poured by a muriatic acid, that’s how their sensitive skin react to the rays. However, they don’t die easily. I think it’s their eyes that are much sensitive than their skin, because their eyes are mostly made for darkness, explaining why they are also considered as creatures who prefer to remain in the dark.

About the eyes though, I debunk some rumors that their pupils enlarge and turns to be almost black whenever they feel anger, hunger or something like that. It remains the same, however… don’t stare at them for too long, you may not know… you’re already acting unusual under their command. You’re probably gonna be enchanted about their eyes because their irises tends to possess some various special colors like either red, sky blue, etc.

To quickly insert some other informations that needs to be corrected or be proven, vampires don’t turn like a bat just like Dracula and Mavis from Hotel Transylvania, they are stronger and faster than our physical abilities, they also don’t hate garlic -actually one of the girls loves it on her food- or can’t see their reflection in the mirror. My girls do make-ups and loves fashion a lot so… that’s why.

Lastly would be yes, they can turn a human into a vampire once they bit them. But the transformation process is slow and painful once they inject that some sort of a venom into some human’s blood which would alter the DNA. They gotta endure it because if i’m not mistaken, there’s no cure yet for these.

I also remember when one of my friends here said that half-vampires also exists. It is rare actually, because mostly vampires doesn’t get attracted or involve in some sort of a relationship with humans. One thing I know that they would differ from a full blooded vampires is that they can actually go free around outside without getting burned or they don’t need that much blood to survive.

Well, that’s enough information for today’s video. Now let’s move on to these nine girls that I’m talking about. The vampires that took me in, thought that they would become a danger after I learned about their true identity, and yet here I am, ending up as their so called little brother figure and… the second family I now treat in my life.

Nayeon. Jeongyeon. Momo. Sana. Jihyo. Mina. Dahyun. Chaeyoung. Tzuyu. That’s the names of my friends... my sisters... and the people I already consider as the second family I cherish the most, no matter who they actually are.

And this is how my story went with them…

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.

Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.

She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 

"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 

She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. 

Your whispers call out in the darkest shadows, My heart answers like a flame, Igniting this shared space with every breath I take, Giving you a love that will never find the end. It binds me to you, pulsing through my veins, Emotions like I've never known before. I've doubted that I could reach this place, But I feel endlessly sure here now.

Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 

"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 

It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.

When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 

"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 

At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.

Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 

"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.

The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 

"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"

"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 

"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.

Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 

"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."

"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"

Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."

She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.

"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 

"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"

"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"

Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."

Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."

Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.

"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."

"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 

There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."

Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."

Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"

--------------------------

"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."

Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 

"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 

"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."

His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.

I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.

This is Anna, by the way.

I should have started with that information.

Wow. This is already embarrassing.

Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."

"Good night, Robert."

Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 

I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.

He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.

Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)

Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.

The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.

That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 

Did I miss anything?

He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.

Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?

Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.

Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.

Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.

He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 

Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.

--------------------

Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.

She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 

"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 

When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 

"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 

Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 

Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 

Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.

I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 

When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.

Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.

Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 

"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.

Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.

She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.

Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.

"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.

--------------------------

Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"

"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"

He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."

She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."

"Too late."

She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."

Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.

Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"

He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."

"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."

"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."

When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."

"You keep saying 'next time'."

Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."

"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."

She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 

"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 

He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."

Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."

"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 

"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.

Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."

"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."

Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.

"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."

When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.

------------------------

When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 

She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.

She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Within minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 

"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 

She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 

The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.

-------------------------

Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@thedroneranger

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[m4sonn]

The Gang During Quarantine (the outsiders)

What the gang would’ve been doing during quarantine

(Thanks to my friend @peachyponyboyy whom I collaborated with with for this and the projects like it)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺ ᴳ : Ponyboy

• scared as hell of getting the vid.

• refuses to go outside.

• hoards hugeee stacks of books, he stole darrys old dvd’s from when he was a kid.

• reads every single book he can get his sticky little hands on.

• shut in his room most of the time bc “everyone else is a ‘distraction’ to his peace…”

• Went through the E-Boy 2021 phase.. Got a nose ring out of spite, Darry got piiiiissed but oh well, it kinda suited him.

• bought a bunch of strawberry cow shit and now hides them in his closet out of shame, he’s still relentlessly teased by everyone but especially Sodapop

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sodapop

• tbh? He doesn’t really do much

• Just invites steve over and they get on everyone’s ass

• Sometimes when he’s really bored he’ll try on the clothes he doesn't wear much that sit in the abyss he calls his closet and pose in front of his mirror (Did I serve or did I serve?)

• Totally learned tiktok dances (still knows the renegade, even after 4 years..)

• Became one of the POV tiktokers like skyyjade but stopped in early 2023

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Darry

• cooks sooo much more than usual

• he’ll literally take out cookbooks from like 3 generations back.

• Does the “aesthetic” workouts if he’s bored

• grocery shopping a lot because he’s the only one who responsibly does it, he likes when Ponyboy goes with him but he barely does since Ponyboy is terrified of getting sick now.

• Got a pair of airpods during quarantine and loves listening to music through them, they're glued to darry now.

• He is a god at baking.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dally

• Ngl he didn't change at all

• sneaks out a lot though.

• darry knows but does not have any shits left to give.

• hates cops even more than he did before

• Would definitely go to the protests with a gun locked and loaded.

• Surprisingly he keeps a tidy space.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Johnny

• watches a lot of tv

• and listens to music a lot

• scared as hell of getting the ‘vid

• Locks himself in his room

• Probably had a slight depressive episode, i feel like his brain needs to stay stimulated or else he just crumbles.

• Had a gacha phase during quarantine and had a semi-famous YouTube channel (also gacha), he never EVER told ANYONE. Not even ponyboy

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Two-bit

• very ecstatic because he can actually just watch mickey mouse clubhouse the whole day

• sneaks out sometimes to get beer and cancer sticks.

• if mickey isn’t on he’ll watch lilo and stitch

• eats like a goddamn pig, but everyone does so who tf cares

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Steve

• He tries to be helpful because he knows darry isn’t just gonna keep baking all the sweets he makes.

• so he tries to learn how to bake

• Bad idea (almost burned everyone alive)

• apart from that he just fucks around with soda

• That's when they found resident evil…and all the leon kennedy edits…they have gotten into arguments over this man.

[afewproblems]

Steve always falls first, falls fastest.

It happened three years ago with Nancy, it happened with Robin back before the bathroom confession cemented their platonic soulmate status. It happened with Lauren MacNeal in Steve's freshman year, and Cindy Carlile back when he was eight years old.

He knows himself and knows the beginning stages. It's always quick and never painless, and seems to hurt more with every passing year. A dull ache in his chest that throbs and whispers darkly, 'remember Harrington, you'll always be bullshit'.

And when he finds himself falling for one Eddie Munson, he knows exactly when it starts.

Movie nights became a regular thing shortly after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. Robin, Steve, and Eddie all pile into the Harrington living room or the Munson trailer every other week, it's too hard to be apart.

Really, it becomes a way to keep a late night conversation going with Eddie while the credits roll, Robin dozes on the beanbag in the corner and Steve can't help but stare.

Eddie is so animated when he talks about something he loves, his brown eyes light up with his thousand watt smile and the dimples come out in full force, Steve almost has to squint with the amount of natural sunshine this man emanates when he talks about his passions.

He says as much to Robin during their next shift and she can't help but roll her eyes and gag, "Steven Remington Harrington-"

"Not my name," Steve cuts in with a laugh as he stuffs their second copy of the Shining into the machine to rewind.

"Don't interrupt dingus," Robin continues imperiously, "I get it, you have heart-eyes for the guy, but you gotta stop gushing about him to me and tell him".

Steve rolls his eyes and ignores the way his stomach swoops at the thought of telling Eddie how he feels, and the realization that it's happening again.

"I-I mean, it's not like I'm in love with the guy Robin, he stutters out eventually, "it'll go away, or he'll find someone else to talk to, they always do eventually".

He focuses on picking up the stack of freshly rewound tapes and walking them into the shelves, avoiding Robin's silent sad look that bores into the back of his head as he hides in the stacks.

Weeks turn into months and Steve absorbs nearly everything he can about Eddie.

He wears a size 10 shoe, but the 'shit-kicking' steel toes always look a smidge bigger - the inch or two it adds to Eddies height doesn't hurt either as Steve finds he has to tilt his head up to meet Eddie's gaze when he's decked out in his metal gear for a show...

He got his first guitar when he went to live with Wayne, it was a simple acoustic that he learned his chords on and practiced CCR on to his uncles delight.

He hates orange juice and loves coffee.

He loves cats and is scared to death of birds.

Every detail draws Steve in, but that small voice in the back of his mind reminds him again and again, 'they always leave Steve, don't get too comfortable'.

But how could he not?

Eddie is comfortable, he's nice and funny, and seems to enjoy hanging out with Steve almost as much as Steve enjoys being with Eddie. There is a softness to him when they're alone that makes Steve feel safe.

So what if he doesn't feel the same, Steve isn't about to give this up.

Not yet.

Steve takes to dropping by the Corroded Coffin band practice every weekend, a six pack in one hand and a small wary smile on his face - he's still not entirely accepted by Gareth and Jeff but the beer helps and Eddie vouches for him every time.

The atmosphere is still somewhat stilted, but it isnt as icy as it had been. Now Gareth even sits with him after practice while Eddie and Jeff go over their solos just outside the door as they share a joint, blowing smoke rings into the evening air.

"You know," Gareth says one night to Steve as he plops down beside him onto the sunken couch in the garage, "If someone had told me in high school I'd be sitting here with King-Steve and sharing a beer after practice, I'd laugh in their face".

Steve fights down a wince at the mention of the old nickname, and nods once. Who was he kidding, 'King-Steve' was not something he'd ever be able to outrun.

"So," Gareth continues, tapping his hands against the neck of the bottle, "how's the crush going?"

Steve chokes on his beer and swings his hand up to pound his fist into his chest to loosen up the liquid, Gareth claps him on the back with an alarmed expression on his face.

"Jesus Harrington, y'alright?" Gareth says as Steve tries to catch his breath.

Steve nods and breathes deeply through his nose, his eyes flick to the open garage door to see if Eddie or Jeff are on their way back inside, "I-I don't think I heard you right," he manages with a rasp.

Gareth snorts and shakes his head, leaning back against the couch. He's quiet for a moment, eyes trained on Steve's face.

Steve, for his part, stares resolutely at the floor hoping his gaze is strong enough to burn a hole into the concrete he can jump into.

"Look," Gareth says after a beat, "I guess its not really any of my business Harrington," his eyes travel over to the open door before flicking back to Steve, "and I don't mean to sound like a prick when I say this, but you're not really his type man".

Something in Steve's throat pulls tight, bullshit echoes in the hollow cavity of his chest as he nods and swallows the last dreggs of his beer.

"Right," Steve mumbles, he puts his hands on his knees and stands up from the couch, "Right, yeah, I mean, makes sense...".

He crosses to the door and manages to toss the now empty can into an open bin they'd officially commandeered for empties.

"Dude," Gareth says softly standing as well, he makes no move to walk towards Steve though.

Steve waves a hand and drops the other to his back pocket to hide the sudden trembling. Gareth is right, it doesn't make sense. Why would someone like Eddie ever want to be with someone like Steve? How would that even work?

Always fast but never painless, right on time.

"You guys were uh, great as usual, I'll see you around man," Steve says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he hasn't had to pull out the 'King Steve' smile in a few years but it still fits, still manages to hide a few things.

He turns away from Gareth and walks out through the open garage door.

The sun is nearly below the horizon and the stars have begun to migrate, the inky blue of night begins to steep into the last vestiges of light, if he's careful he can slip past Eddie and Jeff without either of them noticing.

He makes it to the beemer before Eddie turns towards him.

Eddie's brown eyes widen before narrowing in a questioning stare, he opens his mouth but Steve opens the car door and quickly slides into the driver's seat.

He stares straight ahead as he backs out of the driveway and pulls out onto the road.

Steve can feel those brown eyes follow him as he makes the long drive back to his empty house.

Part Two Now Up!

[writersblockedx]

The End of What Could Have Been

Pairing - Jaskier x Fem!Reader Summary - Jaskier finally gives in at trying to flirt with his favourite barmaid - something that only makes her fall harder for him. Warnings - alcohol, mention of a brothel? Words - 2.1K

A/n - Hi, I’m back! I know I’ve been gone for a little while; writers block has been killing me. But I’m back at it again, hopefully back at posting regularly again.

Masterlist

It had become the cycle of the night. As the stragglers of the Inn began to make their way back to their own beds - or hay stacks for some of them - he would appear. Far too wide-eyed for this time in the night, lute strapped over his shoulder and a glistening smile most female bar keeps had never been able to resist. Well, most expect for yourself.

Jaskier was sweet, that was true, but he was equally greedy. And the whole town knew of it. The stories of his lewd behaviour with his several different partners were laced throughout his lyrics, right alongside the fantastical story of the Witcher and the many creatures the two fought off together. Though, with that very bard in front of you now, you struggled to believe he had the same strength of a Witcher.

"Same as always, Y/n." His elbows leaned against the wooden bar as he slid a couple of coins across for you. Always a couple extra for your own pocket.

You simply nodded your head in an act to show your acknowledgement of him before turning to gather a pint of beer for the bard. "Not in the mood for conversation tonight?" He questioned while you had your back turned.

You only said anything when the cup that was brimming with frothy ale was in your hand. "Not with you. Not tonight." Ever so bluntly, that snap in your tone slipped from your tongue as you placed the drink down in front of him with a thud.

He flashed his puppy eyes; he had gotten good at doing that. "And whys that?"

Your expression never faulted. You didn't dare. You had told yourself for almost a month while Jaskier had been playing at this pub that you wouldn't be one of the many to fall prey to his sweet smile and his even sweeter words. "Because the only conversation you want to have is one where it ends with you getting into my pants." You said it so sternly. So casual. Without a lick of embarrassment as if it were a passing comment, lacking any source of meaning.

But Jaskier's response had proved different. He stiffened and struggled to swallow the ale that lingered on his tongue. "Can't blame a man for trying." His response came a second too late - attempting to get over the initial shock that had stunned him too much to speak straight away.

"I can when, despite getting your answer, you're still trying." You didn't break. With every word, you lean slightly closer, till there were only inches between you.

"Well," He sighed lightly and leaned back, "I still haven't heard you tell me to stop."

You couldn't help but laugh, "I know you're a bard, but you're not stupid, surely."

"You didn't have to go there."  He quipped. "I personally don't think you want...this to stop." His words were as cautious as one in a sword fight. One wrong move and he was frightened you were about to stab him in the back.

For the first time, you became hesitant. You were uncertain. Of course, you could admit Jaskier did have that sweet smile and the charm to accompany such. He also was easy on the eyes, had a slick manner and was, as much as you hated to admit it, the type of bachelor you could see yourself spending the night with - or several. But he was infamous for such behaviour. He travelled from town to town, bed to bed, and you were not about to the 90th woman on his list. That of such, was what you refused.

So you shifted, and slipped back into your stern facade as if nothing had ever happened, like there had never been a blink of uncertainty. "This," You pointed between the two of you, "Never even started." Words so sharp they cut through Jaskier's heart like a knife to butter. While the man was fine to break others' hearts, his was too just as fragile and sensitive. And to hear such from a woman he had grown to admire over the weeks shook his core. With the words written out in front of him, he knew he could no longer ignore them.

And so you straightened your back and stared at the boy you were forced to resist. "You finish your ale, I'll close up." You announced, without any input from him. Normally, he would last at least another three drinks. But tonight, neither of you wanted the company of the other. The air between you had become tense and rigid. Air of which you were not in the mood to breathe.

So you took it upon yourself to make that decision. You started stacking the chairs around the pub, cleaning the sticky tables and making sure everything was as it should be. The only thing left was Jaskier. He took his final sip. He placed the cup back on the bar and let out a deep breath; he knew this was the end. This was the point in which you had drawn the line, you had told him no once and for all. And you had given him no choice but to listen.

There as he stood, he turned to you. At first, he looked you up and down, taking in the last of what remained—this night marked the end of what could have been. He locked eyes with you. Neither of you moved. Neither of you said a word. After that moment of acceptance passed, he provided a nod. With that, he left the Inn without a trace. That night, in your lonely bed, you struggled to sleep, plagued by the ever-yawning question of if you just made a mistake.

By the next morning, you came to face the consequences of your own actions. You strolled in for your shift as you always did to find the Inn relatively empty. In fact, more empty than it ever had been in the past month. The only ones to occupy the Inn were the same stragglers which never seemed to leave. It didn't take you long to figure out why; the lack of strumming music in the Inn was likely the culprit. And, after that conclusion, you came to assume that it was partly the fault of yourself and a certain encounter from the night before.

"No bard today?" You queried your boss, the Innkeeper, as he stood cleaning the wooden bar.

"No bard anymore." He answered. A part of your brain was tugged with curiosity, the other knew that you shouldn't want to know. You cut the ties. You were at fault. You should leave things as they were. "Get used to how things used to be. Just the regulars again." That was one, if the only, good thing about Jaskier: the customers he brought. You could never deny his lyrical beauty and the lull of his lute. So brilliant, in fact, it almost brought you a pay rise.

Your head dropped in thought. No matter how much you wanted to accept this, a part of you wondered if this decision came from a reaction of the night prior. "Where is he staying?" You spat the words out before you could stop yourself. "The bard?" You added, suddenly aware of how strange that question may sound to your boss.

To be expected, the man raised a brow, "I'm not sure," He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "That cheap Inn up the road probably. Or a bench." With that, the grumpy old Inn keeper turned his back to you, going back to sort out the several types of ales.

For a moment, you stared. But the thought nagged you too much; Why not? He was leaving, what else was there to lose? He was sweet, admirable and you couldn't help yourself. You had only wished you had realised such fact the night before. Without thinking twice, you left. You took off without another word and headed to that cheap Inn your boss had pointed to.

By the time you arrived, you came to realise it was perfect timing. Jaskier was getting ready to depart. He had a couple of bags hung over his shoulder as he slung them over a horse. His expression was, until you came into his sights, set into a stern hold. And then, a glint of wonder reached his face, and the very corners of his lips twisted upright just slightly. He wouldn't admit it yet, but he was happy to see you had come back to him.

"And the barmaid returns." He gleamed, trying to not let that smile on his face grow any more than it already had done.

You tilted his head at him, "You didn't tell me you were leaving last night." You stated, choosing it best to ignore his greeting.

"You think that would have changed how things went?" There. You caught it right as it happened; that flirtatious speck in his pupils that never seemed to leave him - sometimes, no matter who he was talking to. When he received only a stern expression in return, he sighed and changed his tone as if he had never made that comment. "I didn't know I would be leaving until after I left." He answered, honestly.

A moment of silence passed as you settled in the realisation. You only needed confirmation: "Was it what I said?"

Another grin graced his face. But not flirtatious or cheeky, rather bittersweet. "I know you're just a bard maid,  but you're not stupid." He reiterated your own words from last night.

For that, you swallowed the lump which had suddenly grown in your throat. Then, with a breath, you replied, "You don't have to leave, the money's good here, no?" You knew your boss must have been paying him a decent paycheck.

He shifted on his feet, "I don't like staying in the same place for too long." The boy admitted.

"Then why did last night change your mind?"

He took a moment and fought himself so as not to repeat what he had said prior. "Most of the time, I can find anyone to entertain myself with, no matter where I am. But," He paused, thought on his words as if they were of utter importance, "But just the way when I walked into your Inn-"

You cut him off, "You mean when I told you to piss off because we didn't like silly lute music being played?" Saying that now was laughable.

And Jaskier had let out a chuckle, "Yes, then. I thought you were a shell I wanted to break and I found myself not bothered with anyone else. Not even with the mistresses at the Brothal. I wanted to get to know you and, I don't know, I looked forward to every night when I'd finish my set and it would be just the two of us in the bar." He explained, him too going off the idea of what else was there to lose now? "You didn't want me and it made it all the more enticing. To fight with the idea of hatred boarding on love was something intoxicating and it only made me want you more."

And, honestly, you were at a loss for words. It wasn't often many people spoke to you in such a poetic way, with such romance trickled into their words as it rolled right off the tongue like smooth butter. Most of the time, you were only met with drunk stragglers, boarding their words on sexual harassment. So this was only a breast of fresh air and you were indulging in it like it was some sort of drug.

When you looked back to Jaskier, you were at a loss for words. You weren't quite the lyricist he was. "I think-" You took a breath as if it were giving you the courage needed in that very moment. "I think I did want you. Oh, I know I did. But a bard who, as you said is always on the move, wasn't something I could get involved in." Like that, a weight slipped from your shoulders like melting ice.

Jaskier took a step forward, cautious in his action. When you showed no sign of disregard, he settled. "You've no idea what I would change just so you would get involved with me." There, his flirtatious smile return. And, this time, you couldn't resist it.

He started leaning in and rather than stopping it, so did you until your lips met in a soft embrace. It was long overdue and you could see how addicted you could get to that feeling if you weren't too careful. But a part of you had started to put trust into Jaskier - you just preyed the bard would never break it. As now, this was the start of something. Something neither of you wanted to ever end.

[diejager]

Joyce, can we have headcanons regarding that sicko bastard known as Jeffrey Hawk aka The Clown? I ADORED that thing u said about him having a dad bod ❤️❤️

*Hands you an ordinary Ultra Ball as a gift*

Oddballer, you’re asking a lot from me, aren’t ya?? That man is just so big and filthy that I’m sure he smells.

The Clown NSFW Headcanon

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, drinking, blood, gore, amputation, clown stuff, manhandling, gas/hazing??, tell me if I missed any.

Once a young and athletic kid, building his body to fit a certain way to help him ease through all the hard labour he did, now it his under a warm layer of fat, thick and heavy, bulging over his belt and breast round and soft. He might’ve had some difficulty to run, ambling or striding across the fields with a slow and taunting skip to his step, menacing while he hit the cork of his bottles and shook his special concoction. It made him all the more terrifying, slow and comfortable in his walk, strategic and strangely familiar with every type of hunt, ears keenly aware of the screams and pants of survivors, hungry for the dopamine those pained sounds gave him —especially yours. 

His special bird, the first he’d every wanted to keep, locked away from the other killers and survivors alike, chained to his carney’s caravan by the ankle, bloody and filthy just to his liking. It brought back memories, favourable ones, his first successful hunt, catching a little robin in his hand, the soft and pretty red plumage picked and broken, but you weren’t something he wanted broken.

He liked the fire in your eyes, the fearful and spiteful glare you sent him when he cornered you in the chosen realm, snarling at him like a feral creature. While he hated doing unnecessary work, abhorred the thought of you losing the flare in your being, taming such a wild cat was rewarding by itself. If he could tame you enough to be able to hold and touch you without too much fight, but keep your temper, it was a win-win in his mind. There was nothing more he hated than a husk, a shell of a broken man to keep as a pet. 

He took brave and foolish alike, young or old, nothing was off the table for him, all he needed was the true part of them, a finger to remember his exploits and victory, throwing away the part he deemed trash —fake. He could smell it from their bodies and figured that the hands - fingers - were the truth, a part that showed the person’s life, deeming it a satisfactory boon for him conquest, but you, all parts of you sang a different story to good ol’ Jeffrey Hawk. A true treasure to keep intact. 

While he would love to keep you to himself, a little bird that would sing to him every day with snapping teeth and kicking feet, he wasn’t as favoured by her as other killers were, almost forgotten to his dirty little corner of the forest in his bloodied and smelly caravan, fingers littering every flat surface and beer bottles stacked or rolling across the floor. If he had such a favour, he would keep you in a comfortable corner, placed over a sullied mattress with blankets stacked over it, keeping you warm while he dressed you in his shirts, all browned and smelling of metallic blood and his musk. 

It was thick and heady, mixing with a scent of alcohol and iron, age-old sweat and dirt. You’d complained about his stink, gagging and choking on the many times he cornered you, pressing himself against you to feel and smell you under his grasp. Nose buried in your hair and arms pulling you to his front, your back arching by the neck against the solid mass of his stomach, soft and pudgy if it wasn’t for his rough clothes scratching your tender skin.

It brought tears to your eyes. Be it from the stench of him and his intoxicating tonics, or his wandering hands, slipping under your shirt until it rode up, removing a piece of protection from his hungry eyes, he loved watching you cry. Call it a recreational hazard from his job, tears and wails were just a part of his duty under The Entity’s guidance, but he simply adored your pretty tears, pearly things rolling down your cheeks and your cute sobs filling his lecherous ears.

You don’t know how much it affected him, the pout when you bit your lower lip in frustration while you struggled against him, the squirming that riled him when he had you in his arms, and your spitfire-like tongue, hurling every insults under the sun at him. It stirred something deep in his guts, a dark pleasure bubbling from his loins, fattening the growing hardness between his leg. He easily got worked up by you, the solitude of his lifestyle and the starvation for any kind of touch led his to drool and hunger for it. 

Your skin against his, soft and beautiful, bending easily under his kneading hands, his rough and bloodied glove as forced you on his lap, seated still to let him lap and suck at your small fingers. His tongue curling around your index, thick and lithe, and suckled in his warm and wet mouth while his tongue felt around, drool running down your wrist. He lost himself in these moments, aroused out of his mind and huffing hot breath against your disgusted face.

He liked your reaction —he liked any reaction you gifted him. He savoured each and every one, your gleeful ones, your sorrowful ones, your frustrated one, and your painful ones. He drank it all up like the drugs and alcohol he found pleasure in, gorging on you like an addict would. You were his new addiction, his new drug and dependence. And he hungered.