#and this post was made the night before the d+ release

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Stay with me || D. Targaryen x Hightower!reader

GIF by @beaconofthehightower DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which you have been forced into marriage with the Rogue Prince by the King. However, it has been well over a year and the two of you yet to see eye to eye, mostly because of Daemon's dislike towards your father. When you find out that you're expecting, things seem to take a drastic turn.

a/n: no way this was sitting in my drafts since i first opened this acc end of last year🥹

“The bath is ready for you, my Lady.” The handmaiden bowed at your direction as you finish taking off your jewellery. “Thank you, you may go,” You bid her off, “But my Lady-“ She protested, “I am quite capable of bathing myself, thank you.” Meeting the maidens eyes through the mirror, you didn’t mean to sound rude and snap at the poor women—your pent up emotions needed releasing, hence why you called for a bath.

Without uttering another word, you watch as she closes the door with a loud thud. Throwing your necklace across the room to release the built up tension, you inhale deeply whilst leaning your hand against the bed post. Tears threatening to escape, you look up towards the ceiling so that they would not fall.

Finding out that you were with child was a rollercoaster of emotions. You were saddened at the thought of bringing a child into this cruel word. How could you try to make your child’s life happy when both of his/her parents were not with each other?

You thought that you could some how find times in your marriage that you would be happy, but you didn’t, the past 12 months were a nightmare. You barely got to see Daemon, and when you did, he’d be drunk and fall asleep without saying a word to you.

And the whispers and talks of people seeing him visit brothels in silk street were unbearable. You tried ignoring the best you could, but how could you when people didn’t even put any effort into quietening down when walking past you?

Brushing your lingering thoughts away, you walk to the bath that was bearably hot. Removing your thin night gown and letting it pile in a corner, you couldn’t help but stare at your still-flat stomach in the mirror. The thought of a babe growing inside was both amazing and terrifying.

Slipping your body in, a sigh leaves your mouth at the sensation of the hot water against your skin. After nearly 30 minutes, the door to your chambers opened.

There was only ever one person to open that door without bothering to knock, and that was your Husband. Eyes closed, you heard his footsteps until it came to a halt, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up, you turn your head to find Daemon watching you from outside the door that led to the bathroom.

“Husband.” You greeted turning your head back and closing them once again. “Wife.” He replied, taking off his clothes and changing. You were surprised he did not sound drunk like he usually did most nights. The two of you not uttering a single word until you got out of the bath.

You flinch once you realised Daemon was sat on a one of the sofas that faced your bath tub, not that the two of you were foreign to seeing each other naked. After drying up, you slip your night gown on once again before making your way to your dresser.

“Ao nektogon aōha ōghar, nyke ūndegon” His voice made you pause your actions, looking at his sat figure through the mirror. “2 two months ago Daemon.” You reply annoyed as you brush through your hair. “But you would know if you saw me more often.” Muttering under your breath, Daemon replied, “ȳdragon plainly.”(You cut your hair, I see) (Speak plainly)

Closing you eyes and taking a sharp inhale, you turn your body towards him, a cup with what you presume was alcohol in his hand. “What I mean, husband, is if you were here more often instead of spending your nights at the brothel, that you would notice the little things!” Your voice escalates in volume. Daemon throws his head back with a loud sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“Where do your loyalties reside, husband? It is most certainly not with me! Whom you swore under the seven Gods that you would be there for me!” You were now standing up as you watch Daemon with an unreadable face.

“Ivestragon mirros!”You yell, “Skoro syt issi ao sir mentioning bisa?” He calmly asked. With furrowed eyebrows, you study his face, his gaze set to candles on the table. “Skoros?”(Say something) (Why are you now mentioning this) (What)

“Don’t act stupid y/n,” He scoffed, finally meeting your eyes, “Emi issare married syt mirri jēda, sir ao decide naejot elēni aōha concerns?” (We have been married for some time, now you decide to voice your concerns)

“Ivestragon nyke, skoro syt?” His deep voice questioned. Searching his eyes, and opening your mouth, no words seemed to come out. (Tell me, why)

“Cat got your tongue, my love?” Daemon smirked as you gulped, tears slowly but surely welling up. You found yourself pathetic, truth being the fact that you couldn’t even tell your own husband you were carrying his child.

Without saying another word, you turned around, blowed out all the candles except for the ones beside Daemon’s side of the bed, and slipped under the covers of your bed.

A loud sigh leaves the Prince’s mouth. Deep down, you wanted him to come to bed and engulf you in a hug. Instead, you hear the sound of the doors opening and closing, he left. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

~

Waking up to a cold and empty bed, you felt it slowly but surely making its way up your throat as you place the back of your hand to your mouth. Luckily, Eva, your closest handmaiden, had walked in just in time as you puked into the bucket.

“Perhaps having breakfast will be good for you, my Lady” She kindly smiles at you as you look up at her with a disgusted face at the thought of food at that moment. “I think not” You grumbled before getting up and getting ready.

“Has my husband returned yet?” Your eyes meet with the handmaidens’ through the mirror as you put earrings on. “No, my Lady” She looks down. “Should I even tell him?” You contemplate, fidgeting with your rings.

Before you could get a response, a loud knock comes from your door as you give a confused look to Eva as she quickly opens the door. “My lady, it’s your father.” She calls out before curtsying and leaving the room.

“Father,” You kiss his cheek to greet him. “I think it is best you go to the throne room now” He gives you a blank look. An awkward chuckle leaves your lips, “But why? What’s happening?” Concern spread through your body as Otto doesn’t say anything.

You quickly brush past him and make a beeline to the throne room. Upon entering, you were stopped by a kingsguard. “Who is in there” You question. “I cannot tell you that Lady-“ “I’m only going to ask you once, brother, who is in there?” You send daggers to your younger brother’s way.

“His Grace, Daemon, and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you push past him and open the door. There sat Viserys on the iron throne with Daemon standing e of him, his back to you. What perplexed you even more was the women on her knees beside Daemon. A handmaiden to be precise. Viserys gives you a pitiful look, It was only when both Daemon and the handmaiden look back to you when you realise.

“I-“ You couldn’t even properly speak as you choked back tears. You felt like screaming at that moment. “Y/n-“ You didn’t even let Daemon utter another word before you closed the door—Gwayne giving you a concerned look—and sped off back to your room.

“Pack my things. I am leaving” You order your handmaidens as tears continuously roll down your cheeks. You were shaking, you felt like you were suffocating. “Are you all right my lady?” Eva places ger hand on your shoulder as you breathe heavily. “I-I need to get out of this dress- a-and breathe for gods sake!” You shout angrily as hands were already untying your dress.

You had about enough of Daemon’s behaviour. You needed to leave. After being dressed in something more comfortable, the doors open as your father walks in. “I assume you’re going back to Old town?” Your father places his hands behind his back as he watches you gather your jewelry.

“I am. If you expect me to stay here any longer with that-that horrid man then-“ “I don’t expect you to, daughter. He was caught in bed with her this morning. I assure you, that handmaiden will get what she deserves. Sleeping with her Lady’s husband, what was she thinking” Otto scoffs as tears blur your eyes.

“Have you even told him yet?” His question catches you off-guard. “No. After what I just found out I don’t think I will. He can find out later on after I’ve left” You say through greeted teeth as the last of your things were packed up.

“The carriage is already out there waiting for you, my Lady” Eva mentions as you nod at her. “Goodbye father, I hope you do come visit” You sadly smile before embracing him in a hug, his hands caressing your hair before you pull back and walk off.

It was pouring outside. You held your skirt up so it wouldn’t get dirty. “Y/n!” His voice booms over the rain as you pause. You quicken your pace but before you could even fully step into the carriage, a rough hand pulls you back.

Before you know it, your hand makes contact with his cheek with a loud slap. The few handmaidens gasp before they look down. He rolls his tongue against his cheek before chuckling, “I deserve that, don’t I?” “Oh you deserve so much worse Daemon.” You darkly chuckle at the man.

“I can’t believed you stooped that low- and with one of my handmaidens? How pathetic can you get, Husband. I have done nothing but been patient with you every day but this? That was the final straw. I’m leaving and you cannot stop me” You say the last bit through greeted teeth. “Were you going to tell me?”

You stop dead in your tracks. You breathe out from your nose, “Tell you what exactly?” Your head turns to him. “That you’re carrying my child. Was I ever going to find out? Or was I going to when I’m on my deathbed.” He shouts angrily as you keep your composure.

“And bring him up with a father who can’t even keep his loyalties to his wife? You’re delusional, truly.” A loud scoff emits your mouth. Not a second later, Daemon drops to his knees infront of you. People around whispering to each other at the sight of the Rogue Prince on his knees to his wife. You gulp as he looked so vulnerable. He looks up to you as he takes ahold of your hands. “Stay with me. Please. That is all I ask of you y/n” He pleads.

“Stay with you? I have stayed with you every day Daemon while you fucked your way through the brothels. I’ve had enough of hoping that you would finally see me as your wife!” Tears were once again pouring down your cheeks as you sniffle. “I can’t stay with you.” Your voice cracks before you pull away from Daemon’s touch and enter the carriage without looking back.

The carriage starts to move as you start sobbing harder. Daemon was still there kneeling as he watched his wife leave. He watched his entire future leave.

[rosyblooom]

a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Wow. ]

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[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

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yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

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username AHHH THE 3RD PIC WITH D/N??? I'M CRYING

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1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25

[yourheart-inmyhands]

I got one for you. Reader with long hair. Yan zhongli, Childe and Pantalone adore brushing it out or washing it for you, putting pretty (but not pointy) decorations in it. but you HATE them touching it. So one day, maybe when they slip up and leave smth sharp in your abode you grab it and lop off as much as you can before they come back (or stop you if they’re in the room when you do it). What happens afterwards?

Cannot wait to see what you cook with this, I adore your takes.

ah tysm! sorry it took so long to get to this, i took a little bit of a different twist from my normal writing style and did some headcanons and a short blurb! hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against will, mentions of reader almost being hit, zhongli being a softie, delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Pantalone would be furious, as someone with hair of a decent length himself, he knows the time and dedication it takes to grow it out so long.

He also knows how much maintenance it took, which is why he never fussed about helping you with it, often insisting to do it for you.

He saw it as a bonding moment between the two of you, something to help him wake up in the morning as he did your hair and something to unwind to at night as he’d undo the intricate styles he had done it up in that morning. 

You cutting off your hair with a letter opener that he’d left in the room by mistake hurts him, upsets him to the point he almost strikes you. To him it’s as if you had cut him, making a statement that you’d rather give up on something you’d dedicated years to, than to allow him the comfort and satisfaction. 

Pantalone can’t even bear to look at you for the next few days, sleeping in another room or in his office. 

“How could you do something so despicable? Do you even care how this made me feel?” The way Pantalone speaks almost makes it seem like you’d given him an impromptu haircut. With the gorgeous hair that used to reach down the length of your back now sitting in choppy piles on the floor, it almost felt like you had in a way. Your hair was uneven, lopped off sporadically in case he tried to interrupt. You’d just taken off the last few locks when he had noticed the absence of his letter-opener, intending to merely pop into your shared bedroom to grab it. Instead he was met with the grueling sight of you, kneeling before the full length mirror, hand clutching the letter opened as your opposite hand released a fist full of hair, letting it float down to the piles that had formed below.

Yandere!Zhongli would be conflicted. Part of him is upset that you’d make such a hasty decision, not even weighing the outcomes and taking away something from not just yourself but from the both of you. 

The other side of him is hurt that you didn’t come to him first. That you didn’t feel comfortable expressing your discomfort with his actions and had taken it to the extreme instead. His heart aches at both thoughts.

You’d managed to pry a sharp piece of stone off the walls of the cave, using it to hastily take off chunks, only for Zhongli to catch you mid way through. His contempt at the situation settles with a sigh as me approaches you, gently prying the rock from your hands before disappearing, leaving you to sit on the floor, half of your hair lopped off just scattered around you.

He returns a short bit later though, bringing with him a large mirror and a sharp pair of scissors. Setting the mirror in front of you, he gently begins correcting your hazardous hack job, carefully trimming off all the missed areas to even it all out.

While his work wasn’t great, it certainly looked a little better than how it had started. Your hair now sitting a few inches above your shoulder, a simple all around cut that was, mostly, even.

Zhongli didn’t say a word as he approached, looking down at you with a blank expression, his calm eyes staring deeply into your wide ones as he gently pried the rock from your hands, leaving you to wallow in a pile of your own hair as he disappears. Upon his return, he places a large, ornate mirror in front of you. It was typically kept in the living room as a decorative piece but he required it’s services here. Pulling from his pocket a pair of sharp scissors, he gently angles your head to be straight before reaching for the areas you hadn’t gotten to yet. Quickly shedding the length of those pieces he gets to work on straightening the rest out, doing an ok job at making it all match up and look decent. “If you wanted me to leave your hair alone you could’ve always asked darling, you know I only want to make you happy in this life of ours.”

Yandere!Childe manages to catch you before the act. You had thought you were sneaky, tiptoeing out of bed early in the morning over to his work clothes that had been hastily shed after his return last night.

You knew he kept a couple different blades on him, having shown you them before. Yet as you checked every pocket, every hidden loop, all the little places he’d shown you that he could be keeping them, you continued to turn up with nothing.

Over and over you checked, an almost pleading in the way your hands silently searched through the crumpled clothing, desperate to find anything even remotely sharp at this point.

You could feel the frustration as well as tears welling up in your eyes, why couldn’t anything ever go your way? First you get stuck with that crazed lunatic, and now that he’s practically taken over your hair you can’t even take some control and rid yourself of it.

As you search, you failed to hear the bed creak, or the soft patter of footsteps behind you. The only two things that tell you he’s awake are his voice whispering in his ear and his hand flaunting the exact thing you’d been looking for.

“I thought you might go looking for this, so I hid it under the pillow. A little cliche but I thought you’d be too stupid to look there, guess I was right~” Childe’s voice comes out in a sing-song tone, almost as if he was bragging about outsmarting you. He could tell from the moment he took an interest in your hair that it made you uncomfortable, just another button of yours to push as he slowly molded you into the perfect spouse for himself. His nimble fingers twirled the simple knife around, flaunting it to you. You could try to grab it, lunge for it even, but it was no use. You wouldn’t be able to get even a strand shortened before Childe would have it back in his possession, especially when the distance between the two of you was so short. Short enough that you could feel his chest pressing against your back, his breath on your neck, and his soft strands of hair brushing against the back of your head.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: In the aftermath of the kiss, Bob and Anna try to process their feelings. Bob works on more of his poetry while Anna hides from her friends, but neither of them can get past their attraction. When another man arrives during a night out, all Bob feels is jealousy.

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

Length: 5100 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!

Taking Anna to Chippy's was a mistake, because Bob was falling harder by the minute. She was cute and smart. Witty and reserved. And the fact that she was a little tipsy after one drink just made her more endearing. Jessica could drink more Sam Adams than anyone he'd ever seen before, and Bradshaw's wife could probably play beer pong professionally, but not Anna. She was giggling and demanding he not download a dating app. She was smiling nonstop and touching him. And he wasn't even allowed to have a chance with her.

She only lived a mile or so from campus, which was a shame, because Bob would have liked to spend more time with her. He played with the radio dials in his old truck as he drove, trying to keep his hands busy. And that's when he swore he heard Anna whisper a line from his poem.

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.

"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, and Bob tapped the accelerator when he realized the light was green. He must have been mistaken. There was no way anyone actually read the stuff he posted online, let alone Anna. He just did it for a way to help him release his emotions and thoughts.

But he wanted to make sure. When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"

He was instantly distracted by the way she kept her eyes on his as her chest rose and fell a little faster. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to him along the seat, and he froze as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips found his like it was the most natural thing in the world. When she made a soft sound, he raised his hand up to touch her cheek, something he'd been dying to do for weeks and weeks. Her skin felt silky soft as she nibbled gently on his lip, and then he remembered everything that she'd said to him. He couldn't start down this path just to have her put up another roadblock. 

He forced himself away from her. "Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, praying that by some twist of face, she'd end up in his arms. 

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob." He watched her climb down and grab her tote bag, barely glancing back at him as she slammed the door and ran inside the building. 

He was going to offer to walk her to her door. He wanted to make sure she got inside safely. He wanted to do a lot of things that would hopefully come across in a friendly way. This was decidedly not how he imagined his night would end, staring at the spot where she disappeared inside and wondering if she regretted kissing him. She really ran away from him at top speed without any clarification.

"Damn it, Bob," he whispered as he put his truck in gear. But he didn't know what he could have done differently. He just wished he didn't know how fucking good it felt to have Anna's lips on his, because it would probably never happen again. He wanted to ask her why she kissed him in the first place. Then an even more devastating thought occurred to him. What if she didn't want to be his friend after this?

He really needed Nat to come home from her deployment, because he knew he couldn't mention this to Jessica at D&D. What would he even tell her? That Anna kissed him exactly once and then ran away faster than an olympic sprinter?

Then he parked in front of his house and saw the text that made him shove his phone into his pocket and not look at it again until morning. 

Anna Webber: I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

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

Anna was curled up in her sad bed trying not to cry. Bob would probably never want to talk to her again now. What kind of person told a man they just wanted to be friends and then kissed him like the words meant nothing? Anna, apparently. But it felt so nice. No. Better than that. Kissing Bob felt necessary.

Before she could change her mind, she texted him and then turned off her phone. I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

She rolled onto her back and started to cry. Not for the first time, she thought about calling Kevin and screaming at him for ruining everything. She should feel a sense of freedom by now after finally leaving him in New Jersey with Alyssa, but she just didn't. It wasn't fair that Anna had no control over what Kevin did when he still seemed to dictate what she was allowed to do. But she knew she had to be a better person than him.

When she reached down to the floor, her fingers found the stack of books she was currently reading for work and for entertainment. She picked up the Vonnegut from Bob, because it wasn't even really that late, and she was in a mood now anyway. Then she took the time to find the note from him. Her new bookmark. She read through her tears until they stopped. She didn't dog ear a single page. She used his note to save her spot, and then she fell asleep with the book pressed to her chest. 

She felt awful on Friday at work. When she gave her first lecture, it felt forced instead of insightful, and her notes seemed to blur on the pages in front of her. She didn't have an appetite, which was fine since she had no money for food and forgot to pack a lunch. Instead of going to the weird tree and the nicest women she'd ever met, she sat in her office and cried with her head resting on her folded arms. 

Bob didn't text her back, but she figured he wouldn't. There was really nothing else to say. She already decided she wasn't going to mention the kiss to Advanced Calculus or Advanced Physics, but perhaps she should tell them it would be a good thing after all if Bob went on a dating app. He deserved to be happy. Someone else would make him happy. 

As Anna was packing up everything she would need for the weekend, there was a knock on her office door. It was late, and her stomach was growling loudly, but she called out, "Come in!"

The room was so small, Bradley Bradshaw and his wife barely fit on the opposite side of her desk when standing side by side, and Anna watched him shuffle around so he was standing partially behind her. "What's up, Anna?" he rasped with a grin, and she had no difficulty imagining him ten years younger in a loud fraternity house. 

"Hi," she replied, clasping her hands together. "What are you both doing here? I was just about to catch the bus and go home."

"You never came to lunch today!" her friend complained. "And you didn't text me back. I was starting to get nervous that the creeper from the sociology department got to you or something."

"No," Anna replied with a soft laugh. "I'm fine."

Two pairs of eyes bored into her, and then Bradley and his wife both blurted out, "How was Chippy's?"

"Did Bob make a move?" Bradley asked, his hands caressing his wife through her tweed blazer. 

Anna swallowed a huge lump of guilt. "We're just friends," she managed to say.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with an eye roll. "Sure. But did he? Because I've been being a dick all week about getting him on a dating app even though I know he's not into the idea. Jake and I thought it might help."

"Are you serious right now?" his wife gasped, smacking at his hands while Anna rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I told you not to interfere," she hissed.

"We're just friends," Anna repeated a little louder over the two of them arguing. "Chippy's was great. Amazing peanuts. Sticky floors. Grouchy bartender. It was like being back in undergrad."

Just as Bradley was raising his hand, about to speak again, he took an elbow to the side that seemed to make him think better of it as his wife asked, "Then you won't mind going back on Wednesday? To surprise Jessica for her birthday?"

"It's her birthday?" Anna asked, excited by the idea of being invited to a celebration even though Bob would definitely be there as well.

"Yes. I texted you about it when you skipped out on us at lunchtime."

"Right," she replied, knowing she'd only been checking her phone occasionally on purpose. "I'll be there on Wednesday. Of course I will." She was going to have to suck up her embarrassment over everyone trying to push her and Bob together, but at least they didn't know about the kiss she ran away from. "Anything for Jess."

"And are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight?" her friend asked as her husband's hands crept back into place on her body. 

"I have a lot of work to do. Midterms are just around the corner," she replied lamely. "So, probably not."

With a sigh, her friend nodded once and said, "Please don't skip lunch next week. We missed you."

Bradley said, "I'll make extra hummus," before his wife started pushing him to the door.

The confirmation that the hummus was in fact homemade left Anna feeling slightly jealous. That feeling only grew as she watched her friend take Bradley's chin in her hand and softly say, "Oh, Beer Boy. I don't even want to know what kind of a monstrosity of a dating profile you'd make for Bob."

He smiled and waved at Anna before he looked at his wife and said, "I just want all of my friends to be as happy as I am."

She grabbed him by his khaki belt and said, "Let's stop by the library."

Anna desperately wanted to be that happy, too.

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

"What's your problem, man?" Mickey asked as he drove Bob home from Dungeons & Dragons. "You were weird all night."

"Just tired," Bob replied, and he was being at least partially honest. He'd been staying up later than usual, working on some poetry and reading the books Anna recommended. He enjoyed all of them; she seemed to know exactly how to reach his innermost hidden thoughts and ideas. She somehow understood him, and that was more exciting than he wanted it to be right now. But when he and Anna had to be together in person again, he knew it was going to be a different story. He was almost relieved she didn't show up at the Hard Deck earlier, because he had no idea how to act around her now. 

She knew he had feelings for her, and that kiss had roughed him up a bit. Even a couple days afterwards, he thought he could still feel the pressure of her lips on his and smell her shampoo. 

"Are you still hung up on Anna?"

Mickey's words made Bob laugh. "More than ever before."

"You know what I think you should do?" his friend asked as he zipped along in his sports car.

Bob cradled his forehead and said, "I'd love to hear it," even though he was pretty sure it would annoy him.

"You should tell her that you don't want to be just friends. And then kiss her."

Bob turned and looked at Mickey as the passing street lights illuminated him and then left him in darkness over and over again. "I'm not going to do that. All I can do is hope she changes her mind." He didn't mention the fact that they had already kissed; he was sure she was too embarrassed by it to want it to become public knowledge. 

As Mickey pulled up to Bob's house, he said, "Well whatever you're doing right now, it's not working."

Bob sighed and said, "Thanks. That's really helpful. See you on Monday. Oh, and don't forget about the surprise party thing on Wednesday."

"Yeah, I won't forget. Hard Deck at seven o'clock."

"Chippy's!" Bob called out as he pulled away. Sometimes he felt like the most organized one out of all of his friends, and it was honestly amazing that Mickey even managed to get to work on time. At least Suzanne's lights were off as Bob walked up to his porch and let himself inside. He didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else tonight. 

He stripped down to his underwear and got ready for bed, but he took his computer with him. He was ridiculous for doing it, but he looked at the notes he'd typed up last night and started writing. It was never as beautiful or eloquent as the things he read from others, but posting his poetry online felt like he was at least taking ownership of something he created. This poem, however, he didn't know if he'd be able to post it at all. He found himself writing about red hair when he realized it would warrant a mature rating label if he ever did decide to post it. Then he started to think about all the things he wanted to do with Anna and her red hair. 

Bob grunted and set his computer aside. She was giving him mixed signals, and he wasn't sure she'd ever change her mind about being with him, but that didn't stop his body from responding as he imagined her beautiful hair spread out on his pillow. He'd take fistfuls of it and press his nose to it. He'd tug gently on it and tell her that she was beautiful. He would press kisses to the coppery strands and then guide her lower on his body as he grasped a little harder.

"Shit," Bob panted, kicking off his covers and pulling himself free from his gray boxer briefs. He jerked off to the idea of Anna and him together. She'd kiss his hips and thighs and laugh softly before licking along his length. His name would sound like the most beautiful poetry on her lips. Her freckles would stand out in the soft lamplight. He'd guide her along with his fingers wrapped around her hair as she teased him.

He stroked himself with his eyes closed, panting softly and whispering some of his own poetry, and he wasn't even surprised when he came all over his flat abs. When he adjusted his glasses with his clean hand, he thought he'd much prefer to see Anna in his bed with him.

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

Anna was starved for conversation with another human being by the time Monday morning arrived. Forcing herself to be a recluse as a means to distract herself from her plethora of issues was clearly not the answer. Not when she'd actually managed to make some friends in San Diego. She arrived on campus early and stopped in the lounge for a donut only to find nobody else from her department was really around. Then when she gave her first lecture, half of her students looked like they were still asleep. She tucked her new bookmark of sorts into Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and counted down the hours until she could meet her friends for lunch.

Jessica seemed none the wiser about her upcoming surprise party, but that was the whole point of the thing. Anna started bracing herself to spend some more time around Bob, hoping her kiss was so forgettable that he'd already moved on. Honestly, that was a pretty good possibility. She hadn't really considered that before, but it made a lot of sense. She was boring. After another day or two, he'd have probably forgotten all about it.

This helped Anna push herself through the week. On Wednesday, she took the bus home to change, and she knew she'd never make it to Chippy's on time in her sundress and denim jacket unless she took an Uber to the bar. So she gritted her teeth and paid for the ride, wishing for so many reasons that she hadn't kissed Bob so that she could have asked him to pick her up. But when she got to Chippy's, Bob wasn't even there. And Anna was met with a different issue in the form of a very attractive man with dark hair and dark eyes.

She felt his gaze on her as soon as she arrived, surprised he was looking at her of all people. But in her rush to get to Chippy's on time, all she really got to do was say hi to Jake and Bradley before they got her into position for the surprise. It looked like the bar had been reserved just for Jessica tonight, and that made Anna inexplicably happy and sad at the same time. Even that old bartender looked excited to celebrate. Even Dr. Rosenthal showed up. 

Then Bob rushed in wearing jeans, a snug fitting tee shirt and a worried expression. His hair looked damp, and he was straightening out his glasses as he glanced around and asked, "Did I make it in time?" Anna felt like someone knocked the wind out of her as he got closer.

"Barely," Bradley replied, checking his watch. "Sugar and Jess should be here any minute. Where the fuck were you?"

Bob's cheeks turned a little pink as he muttered, "I had to help Suzanne with her car. She had a flat tire. And then she insisted I come inside for a few minutes so she could thank me properly. I lost track of time."

Anna crossed her arms and pressed her lips together as Bob came to stand right next to her. When he softly said hello, she just nodded and tried to give him a smile, but she was too overwhelmed with too many different feelings. He smelled like soap, and she knew his body was warm without him even touching her. She didn't know who Suzanne was, but she was automatically a little jealous, which was ridiculous. But now she felt like that kiss last week was as forgettable as she both hoped and feared. 

Anna wanted to cry, but even her tears had to take a backseat at the moment as the door to Chippy's opened up and both of her friends walked inside. "Happy birthday!" everyone shouted, and Anna tried her best to look enthusiastic for the occasion. 

"No!" Jessica called out, shoving at the other woman's arm as she realized it was her birthday party. "You're sneaky! You lied to me about getting just one birthday beer!" Then she rushed forward in her adorable suit and high heels, heading straight for Jake's arms. But the second person she reached out to hug was Anna.

"Happy birthday, Advanced Physics," she said with a stifled laugh.

"I'm so happy you're here," Jessica gushed, and Anna felt a lot better as she returned the hug.

But all too soon, she was left on her own. At least all of the tables were covered in dishes of peanuts. Jake was paying for Sam Adams for everyone, but Anna knew she shouldn't drink. Not again. Not after she got tipsy with Bob. 

She could still feel those dark eyes on her as she broke open a peanut and enjoyed the perfectly salty taste. Who was that guy? His arms were wrapped around Jessica's waist, and Jake looked like he was about to go through the roof as his girlfriend laughed. Then he made his way over to Bradshaw's wife and gave her the same treatment. But Bradley looked completely unfazed when she kissed the other man on the cheek and smiled. They whispered something back and forth, and he met Anna's eyes with a wink. She quickly looked away, hoping to avoid a conversation. Bob was sipping a beer and smashing open his own peanuts, and she knew if she couldn't be with him, she didn't want to be with anyone else either. 

Too late. "Hi, are you Anna?" came an unfamiliar voice followed by the spicy scent of too much cologne.

"I am," she answered, looking down at the extended hand of this handsome stranger. "Are you a friend of Jessica's?"

He laughed as their hands met. "Sure," he replied smoothly. "But it's really Bradshaw and I that go way back. I'm Dev. Dev Borah."

"Oh," she said, still shaking his hand and trying to make sense of things. Why was she so awkward? She finally released him and said, "It's... nice to meet you. Um, how do you know Bradley?"

"Virginia. Undergrad. I graduated with the two of them, actually. Nearly died of shock last year when I heard they were both out in San Diego and getting married. Can I get you a drink, Beautiful? Something other than Sam Adams?"

"Oh," Anna gasped as she looked up at him in surprise. "Um... I don't really drink much."

Dev moaned and gripped at his chest dramatically. "You're killing me. I own a brewery!"

Anna could barely tell one type of beer from another, but she wasn't about to tell him that. And quite honestly, talking about making beer sounded interesting enough; she loved learning about new things. But he just called her beautiful. She was flustered and too hot, and then she saw Bob standing off to the side with Mickey, and his expression was one of great displeasure. 

"A brewery?" she asked, trying to force her attention back to Dev.

"Beta Brewing," he said proudly. "We're currently working on a two million dollar expansion project. It's kind of a construction zone, but if you ever want to come up to sample the goods, I'd love to have you."

Anna's eyes went wide. That sounded like an innuendo, but Dev's face was calm as he sipped his pint. Anna figured he must be okay if he was friends with all of these people, but she was never going to go there without the girls. "Maybe if everyone else wanted to go, I could tag along?"

Dev laughed and said, "Bradshaw makes the drive frequently enough. I'm sure we'll see each other again. But just to be sure... I could give you my personal number."

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

Bob was seething. He'd met Dev Borah exactly one time before, and while he'd had pretty neutral feelings about him prior to tonight, now he hated the sight of him. He'd persuaded Anna to have a beer even though Bob heard her say she didn't really want one, and now he was typing something into Anna's phone. He was giving her his number, just like Bob had done so many weeks ago.

"Stop torturing yourself, man," Mickey said, handing Bob some more peanuts.

"You think she likes him?" Bob asked, voice tight as he grabbed the bowl in his shaky hand.

Mickey shrugged next to him. "What's not to like?"

Bob tossed the bowl onto one of the tables. "You're not helping." He walked away to find someone else, anyone else, to talk to. He should have kissed Anna for as long as he could when he had the chance, because it was all he could think about now. It was all he wanted. She kept looking at him; if she was going to talk to Dev all night and say that kissing Bob was a mistake, then why was she looking at him?

He needed to get out of here and go home, but he knew his friends would be disappointed. Even Suzanne would shake her head. Honestly, he'd be annoyed with himself, too. But his mood was something so unfamiliar, he was ready to force himself to talk to the woman standing next to Anna who he thought was from the science department just so he wouldn't feel like a joke. 

"You know," Bradley said as he slung his arm around Bob's shoulders, "I had no idea Dev liked redheads so much. But then again, he never was too discerning back in the day."

"What do you want, Rooster?" he asked with a grunt.

"I just wanted to make sure you're having fun at Jess's little shindig."

Bob let Bradley slap him obnoxiously on the back as he asked, "Did you invite Dev? Is he going to give Anna a hard time or anything?" His eyes trailed back over to where Dev was still talking her ear off.

Bradley chuckled. "I invited him to get Jake riled up, but I had no idea you'd be collateral damage." He finally released Bob as he said, "And nah, Dev's harmless."

What Bob wouldn't give to have Natasha back. He missed her terribly, and all the guys seemed to be better behaved when she was around. But she'd take one look at Anna and probably embarrass him in front of her even more.

"I think I'm actually going to head home," came Anna's voice filtering over to Bob as she finally cut Dev off. "It was nice to meet you."

"Let me drive you," he replied immediately, and Bob could already picture him getting Anna settled into his Mercedes-Benz, his fingers grazing her bare thigh.

"No, that's okay," she told Dev as she backed away from him. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Jessica, and then I'll get an Uber."

She made her escape to the table next to where Bob stood, and Jessica gave her a big hug. "Happy birthday," Anna told her once again, followed softly by, "I'm glad we're friends."

Jessica squealed and hugged her tighter. "Me too."

"I'm going to call an Uber and head out," Anna was saying, but Jessica was already looking around. 

"No way. It's dark out, and someone here can drive you home. Hey, Bob? Can you drive Anna home?"

He knew he was going to say yes even though part of him didn't want to. And there was another part of him that assumed she'd just say Dev offered to take her. But when Anna looked up at him, he nodded and immediately said, "Of course."

To his surprise, Anna looked a little relieved as she took a step closer. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked him with a little wince.

"Not one bit. I was planning on heading home, and it's on the way."

Bob accepted a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Jessica who was well on her way to being drunk. Then he dug his keys from his pocket and nodded toward the door. Anna followed closely next to him, but unlike the last time they were at Chippy's, he didn't touch her. When Bob held the door open, he looked back over his shoulder at Dev who raised his pint glass with a smile of defeat, but he didn't really care about anyone except Anna.

"Thanks," she muttered, walking out into the cool, night air.

"Did you have a good time?" Bob asked, putting a little more space between them as he pointed up the block toward his truck.

Anna laughed, but the sound was tight and forced. "It was okay. I think Jessica was having fun, which is the most important thing, you know?"

"Yeah," he agreed, squeezing his key in his hand as all of the images of their kisses returned. Everything he thought about when he wrote new poetry and touched himself to completion. He swallowed hard; even being around Anna was a lot for his senses. He couldn't blame Dev for trying, but their interactions made him jealous. "Did you get Dev's number?"

Anna stumbled a bit on the sidewalk as she looked up at him, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "I didn't ask for it. He just kind of gave it to me," she said softly. "He invited me up to his brewery to try some beers. When I told him I'm not much of a beer drinker, he said he'd really enjoy teaching me about the process."

"I'm sure he would," Bob muttered, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

When he reached his truck, he wrenched the passenger door open for Anna, and she glowed softly in the dim, orange interior lighting. "He's a bit much," she said, looking up at him.

Bob nodded once, but she didn't make a move to climb in. "I don't know him very well, but I know he likes to hear himself talk." When she still didn't move, Bob asked, "Are you going to call him? Give him the opportunity?"

"I already told you..." she said firmly. "I can't be in a relationship right now, so I wouldn't want to encourage Dev. And I'm really, really sorry about last week, Bob." She fidgeted with her hands and added, "But if I were in a place where I wanted to start something, I wouldn't pick him."

"Really?" Bob asked as his heart pounded. The most depraved part of him wanted to hear her say she liked him more than Dev. More than anyone.

"Really," she whispered, placing her hand on the seat. "I like old trucks better than fancy sports cars."

That was enough confirmation for Bob. His skin was tingling with anticipation he knew he couldn't quench, but he didn't mind as much now as he did ten minutes ago. "Yeah... you could do way better than a multi millionaire anyway."

Anna's laughter in response was so genuine, Bob laughed, too. The drive to her place was quiet but not as strained as he was afraid it would be, and when he was about a block away, she took her phone out and started messing around with it. "Thanks, Bob," she said as he pulled up to the curb.

He cleared his throat. "You know how you told me you didn't think I should use the dating app? Because I didn't need it?"

"Yeah?" she asked, reaching for the door handle but looking at him. 

He squeezed the steering wheel tight in both hands and said, "Well, I don't think you need Dev's phone number." He watched her jump down and turn to glance his way, and then she smiled.

"I already deleted it. Thanks again for the ride. Maybe I'll see you this weekend?"

He nodded once before she closed the door. As she walked inside, he said, "I hope so."

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

Oh. Oh, okay. She prefers you, Bob! Now get ready for action. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls. And thanks @attapullman for all the underwear discussions.

PART 7

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[zorlok-if]

♦ 08.11.2023 ♦

Hello everyone! :)

I hope that you're having a good day. Mine was really productive and I (finally) had a night off so I thought, "Why not update people on some of what I've been doing?" Because, there's a lot.

I'll keep this short, let's get to the stuff that matters.

♦ Progress ♦

Prologue Word Count: 120,087 (currently, I'll return to writing after posting this)

Episode One Word Count: 46,055 (see above)

♦ Changes & Updates ♦

Hells, there's a lot of these. Okay...

Changed timeline. The game now starts on Friday, June 13th (a couple days before Tommy leaves for summer camp...)

Added several scenes (most of which are optional) and more choices to the original prologue

Added a skip feature to the beginning of the game (see image below cut)

Made it easier to change character genders at the beginning of the game (see below the cut)

Started switching direct D&D references to Mythmaker and worked on writing some of the rulebook for that (see this poll for context)

And a lot more. I honestly can't even think to list it all (and you'll see the rest of it soon enough)

♦ Goals ♦

HOPEFULLY, release the updated prologue and first scene of episode one by the end of 2023

HOPEFULLY, release the next update within the first quarter of 2024 (we'll see where we go from there)

Continuing writing, in general

Begin streaming again, as early as this long weekend (Nov. 10th-12th)

PLAY ZORLOK | CAST | FAQ | NAV | PLAYLIST | DISCORD | AUTHOR | KO-FI

More new features, changes, and previews under the cut. [Beware of minor spoilers]

Prologue skip feature:

Cast gender confirmation screen:

Players can now go back and forth between text blurbs in these screens, that way you can go back to a previous phrase without having to restart the entire sequence:

The prologue now contains an optional flashback featuring a certain detective...

Tommy and Clara don't know each other as well anymore and he can now decide whether or not he's comfortable opening up to her.

Also... if you make some specific choices, Tommy can be a little bit suave now...

But don't worry if you prefer a Friends -> Rivals or Enemies -> Lovers arc, there's plenty of Jin content too...

And much, much more, but that's all I'll share for now. Hope you're having a good day/evening! :)

[vmpiires]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex. what else could it possibly be?? stoner!choso. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 364

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; siiiiiiigh. okay imma make this quick cuz i got a request to do 😭 ANYWAY I HOPE YA ENJOYYYY. REBLOG TO SUPPORT MEEEE AND IF YOU WANT MORE :D

“are you sure this is okay?”

you and choso were at your place while your parents were asleep in the next room. it was hard to have choso around because you knew that your parents didn’t approve of him or his actions, scared that you’d end up getting corrupted. choso could care less.

he could crush them if he wanted to.

but he would never. he didn’t wanna make you sad or even make you hate him. the thought of losing you kept him up at night.

“it’ll be okay, just be quiet.” choso whispered to you as he took a drag from his blunt. you were riding him like your life depended on it. your velvety walls clenched around him while you had your hands pressed down onto his chest.

choso groaned quietly, putting his head back a bit against the pillow. a grey cloud crept from the male’s lips and slipped out of the window beside your bed. his free hand gripped onto your waist. you were almost positive that it would leave a mark.

his hips thrusted into yours, practically begging for more. his eyes went lazy because of the pleasure you were giving him and the effects of the THC in his weed was getting to him. you bite your lips trying to keep quiet but it was just getting harder and harder by the second.

you were about to slow down but choso slapped your ass lightly. “keep going, princess. don’t even worry about being too loud.”

this continued on until you could feel your legs getting weak and you were getting closer to your release. choso was on the edge of his release also. he put his arm onto your nightstand, letting his blunt slide down into the ashtray before he put that same arm around you, forcing your weight down onto his pelvis before he’d cream pie you. you weren’t expecting it at first but you were fine with it.

the thought of your parents finding you in your room half naked with your boyfriend and getting scolded for it didn’t even cross your mind. you were just happy that you got to spend time with choso.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[heartsteel-heartbeats]

fellow kayn appreciator hi!!!! love how you write him :D could i please request platonic headcanons or like. general thoughts on how kayn would be as a friend to a gn!reader? whether they're also a performer or not is up to you but specifically they'd have met before kayn joined heartsteel. thank you and i hope life treats you kindly!! 💕

Platonic Kayn HCs

Reader is a performer, Pre-Heartsteel

(( I don’t think you guys actually know what you do to me whenever you compliment the way I write Kayn it has me doing the Markiplier “yippee! wahoo!! yeeee!!” )) ~ OBBY 💗

Being friends with Kayn includes lots of text messages from him. Sometimes you two text each other for hours, other times he has to run cause he’s busy. If you text him before he does after he says he has to do something, you’ll probably be speaking to Rhaast. There’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll stay and chat for a while or he’ll say he can’t chat cause he’s still working.

Sometimes he doesn’t get back to you for a few days. If you’re lucky, he’ll message you within hours. If it is taking him a few days, there’s a good chance you may need to check up on him. Sometimes he loses himself when he’s too focused on working.

On some nights, you two video call on Discord while you’re both working. You may or may not end up getting sidetracked by playing a video game together. FPS, horror, or survival horror. So games like Left 4 Dead, Dying Light, Lethal Company, and even Halo are up there. As long as there’s co-op, you’ll be playing. Sometimes, one of you will share your screen so the other can watch. Games like The Mortuary Assistant, Resident Evil, Alien: Isolation, and Outlast are pretty good.

Going to each other’s concerts isn’t always a guarantee, but both of you try. Not to mention, the paparazzi will be annoying to deal with once people start to realize one of you is at the other’s concert.

Kayn’s not against introducing you to Akali. There’s a good chance she’s heard of you and probably listens to some of your works, so it’s a win. And so, you, Kayn, and Akali are all in a group chat where you just kinda laugh at some hate comments each of you get. It’s especially funny when the thread just keeps going with people arguing. It’s very tempting to go and leave a comment in the argument just to see how it’d go, especially since Kayn would actually try to get you and Akali to say something. Luckily neither of you actually did it. Imagine the articles and posts on social media that would be made about it…

Since this is before Kayn joined Heartsteel, Kayn does sometimes send you some of his works. You know, the ones that were never made public. He knows you accept both him and Rhaast, so think of it as his appreciation for it. Sometimes Rhaast sends ones that Kayn didn’t send yet, but in return, he wants a sneak peek at one of your own.

On that topic, you’ve kept up to date with what his old band has been up to, both before and after he was no longer a part of it. It wasn’t on purpose, it just shows up on your recommended time to time. There was some discourse, and then after Kayn was no longer there, things seemed to take a bit of a turn for the worst for both him and the band. The band was struggling and Kayn’s reputation crashed. Him not releasing his songs to the public didn’t help, but he had his reasons for that. You were in no position to pry, so all you can really do is continue supporting him.

The idea for a collab was always up there even if you’re running solo or not, but it never actually happens because Kayn and Rhaast always have drafts piled up. Rhaast just thinks it’d be pretty fun to do. But seriously, they do need to finish up their own works. A collab is the last thing he needs to add to his list right now.

Sometimes invites you to liven up an alley he found, or a wall in an abandoned building. If you have an idea for his idea, say it. He knows if you’ve got something in mind anyway, so it’d be better to just say it because he’d pester you about it. You’ll probably even notice he brings a little sketchbook sometimes. Also, those spray paints were totally not Akali’s. If you have paint as well, he’ll be taking those too. If you find some missing, you know who to interrogate. Don’t expect him to admit it though.

If you’re the one inviting him, he doesn’t mind if he just watches or pitches in an idea or two. Knowing him, he won’t always just sit and watch. He also doesn’t want you holding back on your artistic ability, so please, go all out and experiment if you have to. Not giving it your all, especially in front of him, is almost insulting to him.

Do you guys get caught? Maybe sometimes. The chase is always fun though. Well, maybe not all the time, but you can still look back at the memory and laugh a bit.

Kayn has one or two of your songs in his little private playlist. Will he ever tell you? Nope.

Sometimes the media goes overboard with your relationship with him. It’d be nice to debunk all of their theories and speculations, but Kayn insisted you let them go at it cause it’s funny. Admittedly, it was. Every small thing was “a hint.” There are some that take some “signs” differently and start wars between both of your fans. Still rather entertaining, but it did feel more concerning. Some fans can be pretty crazy. Usually, those little wars fix themselves within a few weeks if you’re lucky. Maybe months.

If it does come to it, Kayn won’t stop you from posting something in response to hopefully calm things down. Hell, he might even make a post himself. His wording might be a bit aggressive though.

[masterofdumb]

The Charlie Slimecicle Snacks, Diet, Skincare, Daily Supplements, And Workout RoutineTM

SNACKS

-IF BIG HUNGRY

- Get 1 and 1/2 pound of ground chicken -if still hungry, get another one- can put in low fat tortilla, add cheese, spinach, ect.

-IF SMALL HUNGRY

-Must be Greek yogurt, MAX three times a day, because one time you had too many and your tummy hurt and you kept doing it and your mom said you had to stop -can add fruit and chia seeds-if small hungry but you have already consumed 3 yogurts, then handful of nut -if still hungry, but not enough for ground chicken, enter post-yogurt, pre chicken gathering, aka squirrel mode- squirrel mode until you are hungry enough for big chicken

-EVERYTIME YOU NEED GAS FOR YOUR CAR

-Go into gas station, find refrigerator, find healthy section-Grab packet of two wet hard-boiled eggs, preferably with salt, if no salt, you can get packet of salt from the little table -If sad at gas station, get breakfast sandwich, look at eggs, 50% chance to get eggs, you will know if you want them or not, but even if not, look at them-Every second wednesday, when driving back from therapy, get muffin - not every wednesday get muffin, but always get eggs- look around to see if in sweet or salty mood, then go get the eggs-protein chips

-POST WORKOUT

-Once a week, after workout, treat time-usually a bagel- Asiago bagel, egg, bellpepper, ham, Chipotle mayo, and chedder cheese-can also be breakfast sandwich or muffin-rarely, can be a restaurant you haven't tried, go and get treat

-LATE NIGHTS, AKA YOURE HUNGRY BIT YOURE SUPPOSED TO HO TO BED

-after 9-10, past dinner, back in breakfast sphere- Eggs, turkey bacon, breakfast bites, fruits, ect-make eggs-either scrambled with spinach or cheese, can be with or without a wrap with meat - can also be an omlette- omlette is made with thyme and garlic pepper, NO SALT-can pair with turkey bacon, or finish with yogurt-can justify a 4th yogurt this late-tummy will hurt

-SKINCARE

-every morning and night-apply gentle foaming cleanser -must be specific to you, must work for your skin- once or twice a week, use exfoliating cleanser-for night specifically -apply retinol serum one every 2-3 days-apply 25 hrs peptide moisturizer, not too much, can cause breakout-use a Vaseline like substance on cracked or dry spots, including lips-for morning specifically -use vitamin c serum, paying extra attention to the space under your eyes and any discolored patches-after, use green tea face mask to release toxins, refreshing but unreliable and unsustainable

-DAILY SUPPLEMENTS-step one, two multi viramine gummies-Allegra, for anti inflammatory benefits and allegies-orange flavored vitamin c gummies-2 for 500 milligrams, 4, if on trip, for 1000 milligrams-difficult to overdose on vitamin c-take 1 fish oil pill to cognitive function and slipperyness-last one, a peach vitamin d gummy (best flavor)-if experiencing difficulties with nails and/or hair, or are without assessment to biotin shampoo, use biotin gummies for nails and hair-people will say that multivitamins and vitamins in general, are a scam unless you are vitamin deficit-scientifically, they are right, however, they taste gummy good

-WORKOUT ROUTINE-it is important to keep consistentcy in your workout routine plan-pick a 12 week routine - beginner if you're a beginner, intermediate if you're intermediate, and advanced if you have done other routines in the past-stick with it with for the duration before you make any hasty judgments on its impact-comes in 3 sets, A, B, and C, swithing every four weeks to make sure your body doesn't get used to any one specific movement or routine-Workout A of weeks 1-4-3x hip thrust-barbell, free if available, Smith machine if no other option-3 seated row-cable-three barbell full squat-3 bench press-barbell-reps dependant, 8 if high weight, 12 if lower weight -if you can do 12, move up weight and do 8-3 good morning-barbell-plank-plank-plank-dumbell side bend-band standing abduction-end workout-Workouts B 1-4, C 1-4, A 5-8, B 5-8, C 5-8, A 9-12, B 9-12, and C 9-12- you will become a glutial God-Open app store-install my fitness pal-find macros-need protein if building muscles, 1.5 to 2x body weight in protein grams every day-EAT 2X BODY WEIGHT PROTEIN. GET BIG, LIFT BIG.-EAT 50 EGGS A DAY. YOU WILL BE HAPPY. RIGHT AMOUNT OF PROTEIN IN 50 EGG -EAT 50 EGGS TO BE SAFE-400 GRAMS. IT WILL BE ENOUGH.-IF STILL HUNGRY, TRY YOGURT.

This took so long 😭😭 charlie I think you need help

[rhoorl]

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 6: Jeeps, Texts, and Sliders

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia. 

Series Masterlist 

Rating: Explicit (18+) 

Word Count: 6.3k

Chapter Summary: We replay the day after Melissa’s party from the perspective of a couple of other characters before moving on. 

Chapter Warning: A little smutty (fingering). Also a gray sweatpants reference (IYKYK). Reminder, I don’t have a beta for this, so any mistakes are all mine.

A/N: Many were curious about what Pope was up to so we’ll find out. Plus, a little bit of Katie and Will. Thanks to @trulybetty for a suggestion for one of the scenes! There are also a few Spanish phrases thrown in (for those who don't know, I'm Cuban-American, so the Hispanic references and characters throughout this story are particularly special to me). I have not included translations in text, but if you're curious I'm happy to translate anything!

David: Everyone alive and well?

Megan: I'm getting too old for this but it was a lot of fun. Right Katie 👀

Olivia: OMG Katie, Will is so hot! Please tell me you made out with him last night!

Katie: Hate to disappoint you Liv, but I didn't.

David: BOOOOO

Megan: Right?!

Katie: 🙄

Katie: Well, I will have you know that he's coming over for lunch today.

David: Oh he'll be coming alright 💦

Ty: LUCILLE IS ON THIS CHAT 🤦🏽‍♂️

Lucille: 😂

Olivia: Get it girl!!

David: Melissa? Earth to Melissa … are you there?

Ty: She's probably showing Danny how much she's gonna miss him. Two weeks is a long time 😏

________________

"Babe, do you know where my laptop charger is?" Danny frantically busted into the kitchen as Melissa fixed herself a coffee.

"It's right here," she pointed at the charger lying on the kitchen island.

"Oh shit, right in front of me. What time is it?" He looked at the clock on the oven which read 7:40 a.m. "Ok, Rodgers should be here by 8 so we can carpool to the airport."

"Nice, have everything packed?"

"Yup with the charger I have everything…and I still have some time to spare." He came around to where Melissa was standing, her back to him. He placed his arms around her on the counter, boxing her in. "How should we spend the time?" He nuzzled his head into her neck.

"It seems like you have an idea there captain," she felt a shiver down her spine as Danny started trailing kisses from under her ear, down her neck. "Baby, we don't have time," she giggled.

"I've done more with less time, you know that," his hand descended underneath the waistband of her sleep shorts, pushing her panties aside as his fingers dipped into her core. "Plus, it seems like you're already ready for me."

"Babe, mhmm, what's gotten into you," Melissa giggled as Danny collected some of her arousal and moved to slowly circle her clit.

"I'm gonna be gone for two weeks, I'll miss you. You gonna miss me?"

He trailed his fingers through her folds, teasing her a bit before pushing two fingers into her heat, the heel of his palm giving just enough friction as she bucked into it.

"Y-yea, I," Melissa mewled as she threw her head back, resting it on Danny's shoulder as he helped work her through the waves of her release. She turned in his arms, giving him a kiss. "Of course, I'm going to miss you. Two weeks is a long time," she pouted.

"I know, I'll be back before you know it. You'll go out with D and Ty and I'm sure the crew will get together, you'll keep yourself busy." He kissed her again and looked at the clock before giving a small fist pump. "And I still had five minutes to spare."

"Oh my gosh, you are ridiculous," Melissa laughed.

"Ah shit before I forget, could you go get an oil change for the Jeep while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And, not to be difficult, but could you take it to a different place? I know the guy at the last place ripped us off. Maybe check and see where Will takes his? I meant to ask him yesterday but forgot."

"Ok, yeah I'll head over there today to go ask him."

Honk

"That's Rodgers, gotta go. I'll text you when I make it to the hotel."

"Ok, I love you."

"Love you too."

After a quick kiss goodbye, Danny was off. Melissa watched as he got into his coworker's car, waving to both of them as they left.

"Two weeks," she sighed. 

She checked her phone for the first time all morning and laughed as she caught up on the group chat.

Melissa: I’ll have you all know that Danny wished me a very nice goodbye as he left! 😉

David: Get it mama!

Olivia: You and Danny are just the cutest! 😍

Originally Melissa planned to take the day off to spend it wedding planning with David and Ty, but because of her recent cancellations, she now had the whole day free. So, she decided to be productive and clean the house. She changed out of her pajamas into a workout set, grabbed her headphones, turned on a Spotify station, and started picking things up. 

Before she knew it, it was nearly lunchtime and the house was spotless. She made herself a salad and sat down on the couch to relax. When she finished, she walked over to the kitchen to put her bowl in the sink and saw Danny's keys on the counter.

"Shit, let me go ask Will before I forget."

She slipped on her shoes and headed out of the house, putting more pep in her step once she realized Will was home, seeing his Jeep parked in his driveway.

___________

When it came to sleeping, Santiago could sleep all day and still get a full eight hours at night. It drove the guys crazy, especially Will, but Santiago always rationalized it saying he was making up for all of the sleep that he was robbed of when they served. 

This morning after Frankie's alarm went off Santiago was in no mood to get up, especially because he really had nowhere to be. Since getting back from his adventures around the globe, he hadn't been able to focus on what he wanted to do next. Helping Benny and Will with their new house was the only thing he really had that brought him a sense of purpose.

He slept like a rock after Frankie left and didn't wake up until a little after 11. He got up and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. The house was quiet and as he padded out to the living room and saw no sign of Benny or Will. 

His phone buzzed and he saw a series of missed texts from the guys. He gathered that Benny and Connor were at the gym and should be back soon. Will was out to pick up lunch for Katie before going over to her house and Frankie went to his meeting before heading to the airfield.

Santiago’s stomach grumbled so he opened the refrigerator pouting when he saw very few options. The boys had relied on Lucille for many of their recent meals, along with anything Frankie felt compelled to make. Thankfully, Benny always had a supply of sugary cereals in the pantry so he poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms and sat at the dining room table.

A little while later he heard Will's Jeep rumble up the driveway. He waited for a second but when his friend didn't walk through the front door he decided to peer out through the window and saw Will making his way quickly down the sidewalk to Katie's house.

"Good luck," he smirked to himself.

He was about to head back into the room to throw a shirt on when he heard the doorbell ring. The guys didn't mention anything about someone dropping by so he again looked out the window, his stomach doing a flip when he saw Melissa standing at the front door.

She was dressed in navy blue high-waisted workout pants and a cropped racerback top of the same color, just a sliver of her skin showing. Her hair was in a ponytail and with a pair of silver-rimmed sunglasses perched atop her head.

Without thinking twice, he opened the door with a smirk, knowing she was going to be surprised to see him. Her jaw dropped and there was a sharp intake of breath as her eyes traced up and down his exposed torso. “S-Santiago! I, uh, I…is Will here?”

“No, he’s over at Katie’s, it’s just me.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then played with the silver chain around his neck.

“Oh, ah, ok. Well, never mind, didn’t mean to bother you.” She started to walk away.

“Sure there’s not something I could help you with?” He leaned against the doorframe.

“I was coming over here to ask Will for advice on an oil change.”

“An oil change?” His brows furrowed.

“Yeah, uh, Danny wanted me to get a…can you put a shirt on please?” She chewed her bottom lip as she nervously laughed.

Santiago smirked, “Sure, one sec. You can come in if you want.” He left the door open as he sauntered back to the spare room he and Frankie shared whenever they crashed.

Melissa timidly crossed the threshold, keeping the door open as she watched Santiago retreat into a room. He popped back just a moment later pulling a plain black T-shirt over his head.

“Can you concentrate better now?” He teased.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth turned up. “Like I was saying, Danny asked me to go get an oil change done on his Jeep while he was gone. Problem is, the guy we took it to last time was kind of a jerk and wanted to charge us for a bunch of stuff it didn’t need. I know Will has a Jeep, so I was curious where he goes.”

“Well, Will and Benny are the types of guys who do their oil changes themselves, Fish too for that matter.”

“What about you? You don’t like to get your hands dirty?” Now she was the one who leaned against the doorframe.

“Funny,” he gave her an up and down. “I do, just not with that. I know a guy, wanna go now?”

“Uh, like now now? Aren’t you…do any of you guys work?” She crossed her arms giving him a cheeky grin.

“We’re retired,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. “Besides, I could ask you the same question seeing as you’re here in the middle of the day.”

She shifted her weight onto one leg, putting her hand on her hip. “Well, for your information, I took the day off.”

“So you have time to do the oil change now then, huh? C’mon let’s go.” He grabbed his phone and wallet off the coffee table and headed out.

“You…wha-” Melissa stammered, frozen in place and unsure what to do.

“Vamos princesa.”

Santiago led the way back over to her house so she could grab the keys to the Jeep. 

_________________

Lucille was driving back from the grocery store when she spotted Melissa and Santiago walking back toward Melissa’s house. She noticed them yesterday at the party, especially the lingering glances they each gave when the other wasn’t looking. Lucille made a mental note to bring this up to Francisco the next time she saw him.

_________________

The drive over to the auto shop was pleasant, Melissa laughing at Santiago as he told some grandiose story. When they arrived, he got out and spoke to the mechanic, Enrique, who was not subtle in the way he checked Melissa out. 

Santiago admonished him and let Enrique know she spoke Spanish, in case he tried to say anything that was out of pocket. The man gave Santiago a hard time about dropping by unannounced but after a few moments of tense negotiations, he acquiesced and said he needed about an hour to get it done. 

“Wanna get a coffee or something while we wait? There’s a good spot for Cuban coffee up a couple of blocks, we can walk.”

“Ok, yeah sure.”

As they walked over Santiago noticed Melissa fiddling with her engagement ring. “So, when’s the big day?”

“Ha, isn’t that the question of the year?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to...”

“No, no, it’s ok. I…just…I don’t know. It’s a lot of pressure. Have you ever been married?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “No, I haven’t.”

“Not even engaged?”

“I know, hard to believe,” he smirked. “No, ah the other guys have kind of scared me off of that if I’m honest,” he blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t want to spill all of their secrets but…Will…he was engaged. Great girl, hell I was the one who introduced them. But he, he was dealing with some shit, hell we all were, and she was as supportive as she could be but she got to a breaking point and called things off. Then there’s Benny. The poor kid has had some shit luck. He almost proposed, had a ring and everything, and then, well, he didn’t get to do that. And Fish,” he sighed. “That shit was complicated from the beginning,” he nervously chuckled.

“Wow, sounds like you’ve all dealt with some stuff, huh?”

“Yea, only one of us who actually ever got married was T-...uh, yea, you can say we’ve dealt with some stuff.”

As they arrived at the coffee shop, Santiago opened the door for Melissa. Neither of them said anything as they looked at the menu.

“Know what you want?” 

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” 

Santiago lightly put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the register as he followed. When she placed her order, he quickly placed his and handed the barista his card.

“Santiago, you don’t have to do that! You’re doing me a favor,” she laughed.

He playfully rolled his eyes at her as he took his card back, tapping the screen to leave a tip. 

Once they settled into a table with their drinks, Melissa eyed Santiago. She wanted to follow up on their earlier discussion but was unsure how to do it. He clearly wanted to skirt past his own story in favor of that of his friends.

“Have something on your mind?” He finally broke the silence. 

“You said the other guys scared you off…do you…d’you think you’ll ever get married?”

“Ah…well, I don’t know. I don’t want to say never, but I guess I’m not really looking for that right now,” he looked into her eyes and then focused his gaze down to his coffee cup, fiddling with the sleeve. “Are you excited to get married?”

“Uh….” Melissa fidgeted in her chair as she brushed her fingers through the end of her ponytail. 

“I’ll take the lack of an immediate yes as a no?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Well, I’m all ears,” he leaned back in his chair, looking her over.

“It’s just…Danny and I have been together for a long time. I love him, I really do, I just…I don’t know I feel like life has been kind of set for me rather than me like, I don’t know, making my own choices? That probably makes no sense, I’m making no sense,” she started to ramble.

“Hey,” he reached over and grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to have it all figured out.”

“I know, but it’s like everyone else has a timeline and expectations for me. I’m going to turn 30 in a couple of months and then I’m going to start getting more shit about my biological clock and…”

“Wait, you’re not even 30 yet?” Santiago coughed.

“No…”

“Oh, sorry, I just. I knew you were younger I just didn’t realize how much.”

“Well, how old are you?”

“It starts with a 4 and that’s all you need to know,” he smirked as she giggled.

“Ok viejo, so tell me, you’ve never had a serious relationship then?”

Santiago shifted in his seat before leaning forward, both forearms on the table. “I did, one. I’ve had one, although if you ask the guys they’ll tell you it’s more, but it was really just Sofia. But it uh, obviously, didn’t work out,” he gave a small tight smile. “It’s kind of a telenovela situation,” he laughed.

“Ha.”

The conversation quickly shifted to them chatting about the other guys, Santiago sharing some funny stories about each of them and Melissa laughed so hard she was almost crying. They both lost track of how much time had passed before Santiago’s phone rang and he saw it was Enrique calling to let him know the car was done.

“Time to head back princesa!” He tapped the table, getting up to pull her chair out.

Once they got the car, Melissa asked where he wanted her to drop him off. He said that Frankie’s house would be fine and directed her to the house. When she parked in the driveway, he hesitated for a moment before he got out.

“Hey, thanks for helping me out today, Danny is going to be so happy to hear I found a new spot.”

“You’re welcome, and if Enrique tries to give him a hard time in the future you call me ok,” he laughed.

“Sure,” she smiled as he started to get out. “Wait! Um…I…I don’t have your number. You know, in case he gives me a hard time.” She smirked as she handed him her phone.

“Right,” he took it and punched in his number, sending himself a text so he had hers.

“Well, see you later Santiago.”

______________________

Santiago had just cracked open a beer when he heard Frankie walk into the house from the garage. 

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” Frankie jumped when he turned the corner and saw Santiago. “You didn’t answer your phone, Will and Benny hadn’t heard from you… I was getting ready to go looking for you.”

“Sorry, I was busy, I didn’t want to be on my phone.”

“Hmm…ok,” Frankie took the beer Santiago offered him. “Busy doing what?”

“Stuff.”

Frankie laughed, “You know I know you better than anyone, so if you’re going to try and hide some shit from me you need to do a better job of it. I know all of your tells.”

Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter, “Fine. But don’t get how you get.” Frankie put his hands up in surrender. “I was with Melissa…but not like that. I helped her with an oil change.”

Frankie narrowed his eyes as he took a swig from his beer. “That’s what we’re calling it these days? An oil change?”

“Fish, I swear to god, I took her to Enrique’s. She needed to get the car done while Danny was out and the last place ripped her off. She was coming over to ask Will where he takes the Jeep. Nothing else happened. ¿Me entiendes?”

Frankie raised his eyebrow and tilted his head as he stayed calm, taking a sip from his beer. Santiago’s defensiveness was not going unnoticed. “Entendido. You have to admit that it doesn’t look great, though. Did anyone see you?”

“No, we drove in her car and she dropped me off here. No one was out walking a dog or taking a kid around the block, ok? Relax.” 

“I think you’re the one who needs to relax hermano,” Frankie shook his head. “We’re also going to need something stronger than beer.” He walked over to the cabinet to pull out a bottle of whiskey. 

____________________

Katie’s Tuesday was much less eventful than the day before. By the time it was lunchtime, she couldn’t stand to be in the house anymore. Whenever she walked down her hallway or even looked at it, her mind flashed back to her steamy makeout session yesterday with Will. She was also extra frustrated since she had a less than pleasurable time with her vibrator this morning, wishing she had the real thing rather than the toy that had become an all-too-familiar fixture in her life as of late.

She was restless, sitting on the couch with her forearms restingon her knees, unsure how she wanted to spend the next hour.

“Fuck it.” 

She stomped over to her room and changed into a more supportive sports bra, threw her running shoes on, grabbed her wireless headphones, and decided to head out for a jog around the neighborhood. She took up running following her divorce, finding it gave her the time and space to sort through all of the shit she had kept built up for years with Sebastian. 

On her loop back to Mule Fall Court, she saw a blonde man in the distance, also running. As she got closer her stomach dropped realizing it was a very sweaty Will who was not wearing a shirt. He must have noticed her at the same time because he waved and crossed the street where Katie was.

“Hey,” he attempted to catch his breath while wiping his brow with his forearm.

“Hey! I didn’t realize there was someone else who was crazy like me and ran in the middle of the day in the summer.” Katie managed to get out while also trying to catch her breath.

“Ha yea, well, I missed out on going with Connor and Benny to the gym this morning and wanted to get my run in while I could,” he smiled at her, trying as discreetly as possible to check her out. “Um, hey in the rush to get out yesterday I realized I never got your number,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, so we could coordinate a time to come over with Connor.”

“Oh…oh yeah, sorry about that by the way…um, here,” she blushed as she motioned to Will’s phone.

He handed it over to her and she punched her phone number in and saved her contact as Neighbor Katie before handing the phone back to him.

“Ha, Neighbor Katie, huh? Well, here let me send you a text. Can I request you save my number as Neighbor Will?” he chuckled.

“I think I can manage that,” she laughed.

“Cool…well, sent.”

They both stared at each other for a few moments, unsure who was going to speak first. Finally, Will caved. 

“Um, would you want to maybe go uh…wanna hang out sometime?”

“Hang out?” she smirked. “What do you mean by that?”

Will blushed, it had been a while since he’d asked a woman out on a date. “Ha, um…sorry, I’m bad at this.”

Katie felt a little rush, seeing how flustered Will was while also noticing how his ab muscles flexed when he laughed. “Are you asking me out on a date Will?”

“Ah…well, yeah. Yeah, I am. But if you don’t…”

“No I do,” she cut him off. “Yeah, let’s…hang out,” she smirked.

“Cool, well, I guess I’ll text you. Unless I run into you again.” He winked as he lightly bit his lower lip.

“Sounds good, Will, I’ll see ya.”

They both smiled as they parted ways, heading in opposite directions.

Katie walked into her house giddy at the idea of going out on a date with Will. Megan had tried setting her up on countless dates in recent months but no one ever really made her this excited. Will was a nice guy, and obviously easy on the eyes, and she liked being around him. Although he was quiet, it never felt like there were awkward silences with him.

She knew Megan would wring her neck if she didn’t immediately inform her about what just happened, so she opened up her text messages as she went to the fridge to refill her water bottle.

Katie: Holy shit. You’ll be so proud of me. I think I’m going on a date soon.

When she hit send she put the phone down and rummaged through her fridge to find some ingredients for a sandwich. She checked her phone and nearly dropped her plate when she realized what she had done.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Her face was red hot as she realized that had inadvertently texted Will instead of Megan who was typically the first thread in her text messages. She shot a quick glance out her living room window, cursing herself that she left the curtains all the way open this morning to bask in some of the sunlight. Although she didn’t see Will anywhere outside, she wasn’t sure if he was done running yet or not so she hid behind her kitchen island to be out of sight and dialed Megan. 

“C’mon pick up pick up.”

“Hey, everything ok?”

“Fuck, Meg. I fucked up.”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What happened? Are you ok?”

“Physically yes. But I’m fucking mortified. I…ugh shit he just read it!” Katie let out an exasperated sigh. 

“What are you talking about? Do you need me to come over there? Did Seb call you?”

Katie talked a mile a minute to get everything out to Megan, telling her about how she met Will and they exchanged numbers and made plans to go out on a date. Megan’s first reaction was to laugh, which made Katie whine even more.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry…you have to admit this is kind of funny and so something you would do,” Megan continued to chuckle as she typed away on her computer. “Has he responded yet?”

“Ugh, no he hasn’t…wait, there’s bubbles, he’s typing.”

________________

Will lightly jogged back to his driveway as he heard the roar of the engine of Benny’s TransAm coming up the street. He greeted his brother and Connor and the three of them headed inside to eat.

“How was your run,” Benny called out as he walked into his room to change out of his sweaty clothes.

“Actually pretty good, I…uh…I got Katie’s number.”

“No way man, that’s awesome,” Connor slapped him on the shoulder, making Will chuckle at the boy’s enthusiasm and apparent investment in his, and Katie’s, love life.

Will’s phone dinged, but he ignored it, figuring it was probably Pope adding some stupid joke to the guys’ group chat.

Benny came back around the corner pulling his shirt over his head with his very well-worn slouchy gray sweatpants slung low on his waist. “Oh shit, no way. You didn’t get that yesterday? I mean after you kissed her and grabbed her-”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupted his brother, cutting his eyes over at Connor. 

“I’m not in elementary school, I’ve hooked up with girls before,” Connor straightened up, puffing out his chest a bit.

“Girls, plural?” Benny smirked.

“Ok, girl. Just one girl. It was freshman year and we kept our clothes on, but it still counts ok!”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s all good,” Benny chuckled. “But seriously, Will, do you have any plans to see her? Ya’ll going out on a date or something? Shit, when’s the last time you went out on a date?”

“Could ask you the same question asshole,” Will snapped back, picking up his phone. “Oh shit. Hey, look.” Will unlocked his phone and showed Benny and Connor the text that came in from Katie. “That…that wasn’t meant for me right?”

“Oh, that was probably for my mom, they text each other literally all day every day.”

“Shit, she’s probably really embarrassed.”

“C’mon let’s fuck with her, give her a hard time,” Benny took the phone from Will, starting to compose a message.

Will wrestled the phone out of his brother’s hands, annoyed that Benny’s longer arms made it hard for him to get to the phone. “Stop it. Ok…let’s not give her too hard of a time, but let’s have some fun.” Will smiled, which made Benny whoop with laughter. 

___________________

Neighbor Will: Going on a date soon, huh? Nice. Who’s the lucky guy?

Katie read the text out loud practically as it was delivered. “Ok, so he didn’t immediately think I was a complete weirdo, that’s a good sign, right?”

“Babe, you just probably gave him such a big ego boost, he’s got to be loving this. Be a little flirty back, c’mon.”

They debated back and forth on what to text next, letting the rest of the conversation play out, giggling like they were in high school.

Katie: Oh, just some guy who I met recently. He’s pretty good-looking.

Neighbor Will: Good looking, huh? 

Katie: A little. 😉

Neighbor Will: Like good looking as in handsome? Or good looking as in hot?

Katie: That’s my secret…

Neighbor Will: So when’s this date? Gotta make sure this guy is legit.

Katie: I don’t know, we haven’t decided yet.

Neighbor Will: Fridays always seem to be a good day.

Katie: Very true. Seems like a good way to end the week.

Neighbor Will: Well, maybe your date can come up with a fun idea for you two between now and then.

Katie: He seems like a planner, so I have no doubt.

Neighbor Will: Well, it sounds like you have a date.

Neighbor Will: Pick you up at 7? 😉

Katie: Sure, sounds good. 

“See! Now if that wasn’t a great recovery then I don’t know what it is!” Megan cheered Katie on over the phone.

“Holy shit, I’m going to need a drink.”

“I got you sister. I’m putting a bottle of wine in the fridge right now! Come over after work! I’ll call in some reinforcements.”

____________________

Promptly at 5 p.m., closed her laptop and got a little bag together to head over to Megan’s complete with some cheese, crackers, and olives. Throughout the afternoon various members of the Neighborhood Watch popped into the group chat saying they were free to come over for an impromptu get-together.

Katie knew her texting faux pas was going to be a subject of conversation and while the attention would normally make her want to crawl into a hole, she knew the crew would make her laugh and lift her spirits. She was already bracing for whatever smartass comment David was sure to give her, but she was ready for it – she needed to be around her friends.

As she made her way up Megan’s porch, the door swung open. Connor was on the other side, his eyes going wide when he saw Katie. 

“Hey C!”

His eyes grew wide and he gulped. “H-hey Ms. Katie.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah…sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you…um, I’m going to go see Will.” he blurted out.

“Oh…ok cool. Having a guys’ night then huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows trying to lighten the mood.

“Yea. I…um…I’m gonna go.”

“Ok C, I’ll see ya. Hey, you good to come over to my house on Saturday to build some stuff? Don’t feel like you have to.”

“No, I mean, yeah I’ll be there. I don’t mind Ms. Katie. I told you I’d help.”

“Alrighty bud, I’ll see ya.”

Katie closed to door and walked in on Megan who was pulling a dish out of the oven. 

“Holy shit that smells good, what is that?”

“Oh hey babe, it’s this garlic and herb baked brie thing I found on Pinterest. Did you see Connor on his way out? He was supposed to take over these buffalo chicken sliders I made for the guys. They’re apparently going to teach Connor how to play poker tonight,” she chuckled.

“Ha, oh jeez. Yeah, I saw him. He was kinda awkward with me though, it’s like he saw a ghost or something when he saw me.” She tried to snag a bite of the brie but Megan swatted her hand away.

“Everyone will be here soon, wait! And uh…yea, about that. Apparently, he was over at Will’s today when you guys were texting.”

“Well, it’s not like a sent a picture of my tits or anything…”

“I know, but he felt bad that you may have been embarrassed, you know how he is.”

“Oh I know, our sweet little Connie bear. How’re things going with him and Aria?”

“Good, I think. I’m trying to not ask Benny a ton of questions, but I’m dying to know more.”

“Ooo…Benny huh?’ Katie teased, arching one of her eyebrows. “He’s hot as fuck Meg, you thought about doing anything about that?”

Megan rolled her eyes, “For starters, he’s like 10 years younger than me and I see him like a little brother, ew.” 

Katie wasn’t convinced but didn’t press the issue as she heard the door open.

“Party’s here!” David shouted as he danced through the front door, a bottle of sparkling wine in his hand as Ty followed carrying a couple of containers for Lucille who was trailing behind them. 

The five of them chitchatted while they waited for Melissa and Olivia to arrive, politely waiting to dig into the spread until David broke the tension and started fixing himself a plate. “Look we said be here by 7, I know Liv is probably dealing with bedtime and shit, but Melissa has no excuse. They can’t be mad that we started eating.”

Almost on cue, Melissa strolled through the front door carrying some fresh-baked cookies.

“Liv texted, one of the twins is sick so she can’t make it,” Megan let the group know as they all sat around the living room with their snacks and drinks.

“Katie, I am dying to know what your last like 36 hours have been like. Please dish!” Ty teased.

She reluctantly rehashed her lunch date, going in more detail than she was planning on thanks to very specific questions from David. When she finally got to the part where she accidentally texted him, they all nearly spit out their drinks.

“Oh shit, Katie…that would happen to you,” Melissa chuckled.

“It was so fucking embarrassing,” Katie put her head in her hands.

“Why mi cielo? So he knows you were excited to go out on a date, what’s the harm in that?” Lucille rubbed Katie’s back. “He’s so handsome, have some fun!”

“Thank you, Lulu, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell her!” Megan cheered. 

“Well, cheers to your date and hopefully getting some dick!” David raised his glass as everyone else groaned and rolled their eyes.

_________________

“Ok, so a full house is better than a flush?” Connor looked at his cards confused, showing them to Benny who was sitting to his right.

“Lemme see…” Benny peered over at his hand. “Yeah, you have a full house which would be better than a flush, but unfortunately I have you beat,” he laid down his cards. “Straight flush.”

The rest of the guys groaned as Benny fist pumped, winning his fifth-straight hand.

“How about we take a break, huh? Refill drinks?” Frankie asked as he got up.

“No fair Fish, you’re just mad that you’re losing.” Benny huffed.

Connor and Will also pushed back from the table to head to the refrigerator, Santiago and Benny following.

“Pizza should be here soon,” Will said as he checked his phone.

“Ugh,” Connor shook his head. “My mom made some slider things for me to bring and I forgot to bring them. I was a little distracted on the way out.”

“Did Aria text you or something?” Benny asked as he took a swig of his beer.

“No, uh, Katie came by. They’re all having a get-together.”

“Probably to talk about you güero,” Santiago slapped Will on the chest. “Connor, you think they’re going to be there a while?”

“At my house? I mean, it won’t be super late, but they’re still there now.”

“C’mon Will, let’s go get our…what were they Connor, sliders?” Santiago confirmed with Connor before he and a reluctant Will made their way across the street.

_______________

“So Lulu, any chisme you care to share with us?” Ty asked.

“Well, actually yes. I saw Ethan today, he showed 306 to a family as a favor to one of his realtor friends.”

“Oooo did you see the people?” Melissa asked, curious who her new neighbors may be.

“Just from afar, it was a family, a couple and they had two kids with them.”

“Were they hot?” David asked as Ty playfully slapped him on the forearm. 

“I couldn’t get as close of a look as I wanted, but the husband kind of reminded me of Francisco, just with shorter hair and no beard and wearing a suit.”

The group was laughing in the living room when they heard the doorbell ring.

“Do you think that’s Liv?” Melissa asked.

“Nah, none of you ring the doorbell anymore,” Megan chuckled as she walked over to see who was at her front door. “Oh…hey boys! Come on in.” She ushered Santiago and Will inside, shushing Bucky who started barking at the visitors. “Oh stop it, you know them.”

Katie’s eyes widened and the sight of Will who was rubbing the back of his neck as he walked behind Santiago who confidently strolled into the room. 

Lucille flashed a quick glance over to Melissa who straightened up at the sight of Santiago while smoothing down her hair.

“Hey everyone, so sorry to intrude on your uh…party, but Megan, Connor mentioned there was something he forgot to bring over,” Santiago flashed a charming smile.

“Oh yeah! I actually have them still on the stove so they should be a little warm, may just have to pop them in the microwave for a few before you serve them. Katie, can you help me,” Megan nodded to her friend to join her in the kitchen as the rest of the crew made small talk with the guys.

“What the fuck,” Katie whispered to Megan as they got to the kitchen. 

“Aww what…Will wanted to come and see you,” Megan teased as she wrapped aluminum foil onto the platter. “You should see the way he was looking at you. Here take this to your man.”

“He’s not my man,” Katie rolled her eyes, yelping a bit as Megan slapped her on the ass as she walked out of the kitchen.

As they walked back into the living room, David and Santiago were cracking jokes back and forth.

“Here you go,” Katie announced, walking towards Will.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he inhaled sharply as their fingers brushed against each other when she handed over the tray. “Didn’t mean to bother you all, we’ll get going. Promise we won’t have Connor over too late Meg.”

“All good, it’s the summer so he can stay out as late as he wants!” Megan waved them off. 

“Ok, well, still. We’ll make sure he gets back. You have a great night,” Will said to everyone but looked at Katie with a smile.

A/N: For some reason, I was having trouble with this chapter, but I eventually got it to a place I liked, so I hope you like it too!

When the two men finally walked out, the group stayed quiet for about 10 seconds before they started whooping and hollering about their unexpected, but very welcome, visitors. 

Next chapter

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[kastlequill]

nsfw alphabet — krueger

pairing: sebastian krueger x f!reader word count: 4.1k tags: headcanons, established relationship, fluff and smut, descriptions of: blood kink, blow jobs, closet sex, cunnilingus, hair-pulling, mild breeding kink, predator/prey dynamic, public + mutual masturbation, scratching, shower sex, spanking, vaginal fingering warnings: minors dni! gif: shadow0-1 ao3: read here

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Although unused to the concept of sticking around post-sex, Krueger had always been a quick study, especially when it came to things he deemed to be of the utmost importance. And what was more important than your well-being? After the first night you spent together, you’d later confessed that you had struggled to ground yourself without him as a tether. But you’d only needed to say this once because Krueger had internalized every word.

As the weeks went by, you in your blissed-out state of euphoria began to notice the way he pushed back your hair from your sweat-ridden face, whispering in a language you didn’t understand, and the way he had taken to feeding you your favorite snack while you were still coming to. The way he now came over earlier than ever so that there was sure to be enough time for holding you in his sturdy embrace. No empty promises, just pure action. It was one of your favorite things about him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Krueger knew his hands held a special place in your mind, in your heart, and, of course, in between your legs. Before you, he hadn’t much liked his hands, being as calloused and blood-stained that they were. To him, they’d partaken in too much death to be worthy of love, but you had adamantly disagreed and had thus taken it upon yourself to prove to him just how wrong he’d been about them. This triggered Krueger to develop an almost-obsession with your mouth, your lips. The worship you would show his hands, taking time to attend each finger, sucking them into the heat of your mouth, had made a believer out of him. When your lips puffed from the pressure, and when the rim of your reddened mouth glistened with saliva, Krueger felt like he’d finally found enlightenment.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

There was something about the act of wasting that rubbed Krueger the wrong way. Maybe it had to do with the food insecurity that plagued his youth, or with constantly being on the move and having no method of holding onto anything, forced to discard useful resources, valued possessions. Regardless of the reason, he just couldn’t stand to see things go to waste. Which might be why he was so intent on ensuring his cum was never reduced to a mere stain on the bed sheets. If his cock was shoved down your throat, Krueger wanted to see you swallow every drop of him then lapped up whatever dribbled down your chin. And if he was buried inside of you, Krueger made certain that his spend stayed right where it should, taking two fingers and pushing back in whatever had leaked out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

What Krueger wouldn’t ever tell you was that he’d had his eye on you long before you had even realized he existed. The first glimpse he got of you was in the mess. You’d been eating a shitty rehydrated burger, had slathered a pack of mayonnaise on it to make it edible. Just as Krueger intended to avert his gaze, your pink tongue had peeked out of your mouth to lick away a dollop of sauce from your upper lip. It had been an innocent act, yet the visual of your tongue coated in white would not leave his thoughts.

For the next month, he brought himself to release with only his hand and the image of you kneeling before him, jaw loose, mouth agape, eyes up. When he finally decided that he’d had enough, Krueger orchestrated your chance meeting, bumping into your shoulder at the shooting range. To this day, you proudly boasted that you had been the one to make the first move. Krueger saw no need to convince you otherwise.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Casual sex came easy to Krueger; low-stakes, no attachments, just pure biology. Plain, simple, and he was good at it too, if his previous partners were to be believed. Whatever the both of you had, though, transcended casual sex. This realm of intimacy was foreign to him. With regards to the physicality of sex, Krueger had the upper hand, for he was a soldier so in tune with his own body that it had become an instrument, rendering him knowledgeable of the exact strings to pluck in order to make another’s skin hum in pleasure. However, the emotions that this communion of two souls evoked? That was definitely your territory, not his. But there was no one he would rather navigate that unfamiliar terrain with than you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loved taking you from behind. Against the wall, with your legs spread shoulder-width apart, with his hands fastened to your soft hips, keeping you in place as he eased himself into you, inch by inch. On the bed, with your face pressed into the pillow, with his stare fixated on the arch of your back, palm occasionally smacking your ass to feel how you reflexively clenched upon impact. Bent over the table, with your arms hanging off the edge, with his right leg propped up just enough to allow for the perfect angle, repeatedly hitting the spot he knew unraveled you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In your opinion, Krueger was hilarious. Some called him unintentionally funny, but you knew that he was well aware of his excellent comedic timing. It wasn’t uncommon for him to utter a sentence so absurd that would, under normal circumstances, make you laugh. But when he was filling you to the brim, the sheer size of him threatening to split you in half, the only noises that could leave your lips were strained moans or unintelligible begs for both more and less. Krueger, however, had no problem laughing at his own jokes during intercourse, and the way your mind scrambled under his ministrations never failed to get an additional chuckle out of him, dark and smug.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Krueger didn’t really think much about body hair, yours or his. It was something natural, so there were very few places that he deliberately trimmed or shaved. Before you’d seen him shirtless, you had anticipated him having an unseemly amount of hair that obscured yet defined his pecs. What you’d discovered spanning the mostly-bare region instead was a tattoo, ink fulfilling the role of hair in how it covered the expanse of skin. In fact, he didn’t have much visible hair anywhere, but the trail of dark blond wisps that thickened as it descended towards the base of him more than made up for what he lacked elsewhere.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It had taken a couple months for you to break through his hard shell of an exterior, but once you did, he bore himself to you in his entirety. Though this had included unveiling his face, Krueger still opted to wear his mesh hood around you more often than not, which was just fine since you’d grown quite used to it anyway. The easygoing romance you now shared had evolved from your sexual relationship as sweeter moments began to integrate themselves with the preexisting passion. If Krueger had your hands pinned down with his own, he always interlocked your fingers together, and if Krueger had you facing away from him as he ate you out, he caressed the dip of your navel, loving its cushion.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Krueger really, really enjoyed watching you play with yourself. The warmth of your cheeks from exertion, the sheen of sweat that glistened on your skin, the crescendo of moans as you gave up on biting your lip to keep quiet—you were art personified. Your back against the headboard of your too-small bed, knees bent and legs splayed open, putting you on display as two fingers dipped briefly inside to slicken them then swirl your swollen bud.

Meanwhile, Krueger sat only a few feet away on a chair perfectly placed to give him the best view of your wreathing form, stroking his length, tip weeping. And as you both neared completion, only then did Krueger make his way over to the bed and sheathe himself in your wet heat with a single snap of his hips. So that when he finally climaxed, nothing went to waste.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

If there was one thing he couldn’t get enough of, it was how you sometimes raked your nails down his back like a woman possessed. Oh, Krueger loved it when you turned a bit feral, eyes glazed and unseeing, operating on instinct alone. He would rile you up by whispering a suggestive comment or two in your ear when you were both in public, unable to act. Mark me, then I show you off, yes?

This little dance usually culminated in him coming over, lifting you up against the door of your room, and doing whatever he could to draw your claws out. By the end of the night, you had rendered Krueger’s skin a canvas, a masterpiece of angry red lines, overlapping and multidirectional. For the next several days, he took any opportunity to forgo a shirt around the base, just as much staking his claim on you as you on him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

For Krueger, nothing quite beat getting back from a long mission and taking a nice, hot shower to rinse off all the blood and gore. One day, however, he discovered there was something that could make this even better: you. Steam intertwined with panting breaths, grunts and moans drowned out by ricocheting water, your palm’s vapor impression left on the tiled wall, smearing with each thrust. It became almost like a ritual, holy and sacred, a cleansing of the body and soul after partaking in the worst of sins.

But while the sex was great, the reason these moments were dear to Krueger had no root in venery. It was what came after—how you shut the water off upon realizing that he had been swept into the shadows of his mind, and how you then cradled him to your chest. You stood on the tips of your toes as he dipped lower, the crown of his head nestling under your chin. A perfect fit.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The adrenaline rush that a battlefield gave Krueger did more than just boost his strength and stamina. Another side effect was how it temporarily put his more carnal desires into overdrive; it was bloodlust in every sense of the word. So maybe that was why the sight of you drenched in the blood of a common foe made his pants feel too tight, too restrictive. Once he’d ensured none of it was yours, concern ebbed away and was replaced by raw need.

En route to the base, he would periodically shift his gaze to look at you through the rear-view mirror, watching how you laughed with the others in the backseat of the Humvee, still high off your recent victory. The splatters of blood on your face had dried a shade of maroon, and the contrasting colors further emphasized your smile, teeth white, incisors sharp. A huntress. Krueger subtly rearranged himself so as to relieve some of the mounting pressure and then diverted his attention to the road ahead, stepping harder on the gas pedal. The sooner you arrived, the sooner he could get his hands on you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Your comrades were under the false impression that Krueger had a thing for choking his sexual partners, that he liked to be in control of how much oxygen you inhaled and how much carbon dioxide you exhaled. They cited his tendency to go for the throat on the battlefield as their evidence, but it was for this very same reason that Krueger would never tighten his hands around your neck, not in the bedroom nor anywhere else; it felt too much like you were the enemy, and he was your executioner. Krueger saw the neck as the embodiment of one’s life source, and he’d sooner turn himself over to the KSK than have any part in snuffing out yours with his war-torn hands.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

That being said, choking on his dick was still fair game. Krueger loved to grab a fistful of your hair and set the pace, slow but unforgiving, urging you to take him deeper, to fit as much of him in your mouth as possible, gag reflex be damned. When your fingernails dug into the meat of his thighs and your nose brushed against tufts of dark blond hair. . . Scheiße. You always did such a good job for him, even when tears welled in your eyes and your jaw began to ache.

He was more than happy to return the favor, pushing you up against the wall, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and lifting the edge of his sniper veil to then descend upon you. With your vision of him obscured, the heightened sensation of being split open by his tongue was all-consuming. The way he circled your clit and sucked the puffy bundle of nerves was almost too much for you to bear, eliciting whines born of overstimulation. As for Krueger, he felt only total peace between your trembling thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

In the beginning, Krueger had treated sex like a means to an end, a rushed entanglement of limbs. Until you, that was how it’d always been for him. The first few weeks of your coupling had reflected that previous mindset of hard and fast, but then there’d been a shift. Sure, rough sex was fun and something you both enjoyed. But the intimacy of being face-to-face, of him removing his veil to allow you to stare into his eyes as he did yours, of witnessing every little reaction, brows furrowed in pleasure, lips parted in bliss—it was sublime. Here at night was where the words that had gone unspoken during the day were finally conveyed through a reunion of flesh and bone. Each stroke a confession, and every clench a reassurance.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Though Krueger loved to take his time with you and show you the care that you deserved, he also loved when the two of you collided in an expression of unbridled passion, fast and easy. There weren’t many places around the base that were suitable for a good quickie, but the supply closet on the way to the briefing room had become somewhat of a frequent spot. Last week, he had felt particularly bold and shoved you into the cramped space right before a meeting.

As soon as the door had clicked shut, Krueger had tugged your pants down to pool at your ankles then pushed your drenched panties to the side, just enough to fuck two fingers into you, clasping his free hand over your mouth to muffle the lewd noises you couldn’t contain. Once sure you could take him, he had pulled out his cock, aligned the tip with your hole, and thrusted forward with such force that you’d had to steady yourself against the wall. By the end of it all, you both had entered the conference only one minute late. And if anyone noticed how your hair was a mess and his fly was down, no one had said a thing.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Occasionally, you and Krueger would agree to stop by a nearby pub with some of the other operators in celebration of a job well done. It was always dimly lit and loud as hell in there, and everyone paid attention to themselves, to who they were speaking with at the table, to what they were drinking. Which gave Krueger the confidence to rest a hand on your thigh, a possessive move that served a dual purpose. While you sipped your drink of choice, his hand migrated beneath your dress, movement abruptly ceasing at the lack of resistance, the lack of obstructive fabric. You knew that, if you could see his eyes, they would be ablaze with lust. Molten.

Krueger quickly recovered, inserting two fingers, knuckle-deep, and the pace he set was torturously slow, halting entirely whenever you neared your peak. When your comrades asked why you looked so flustered, were you ill, Krueger answered on your behalf as you’d been rendered nonverbal by the now three fingers pumping in and out of your weeping cunt. The glare you sent him only made him laugh.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Krueger didn’t use rounds as a metric for sex; rather, he counted your orgasms. The first was usually the handiwork of his fingers, a kind of greeting; the second was with his mouth, kneeling in supplication, seeking to make you more pliable, more relaxed; and the third was on his dick, where you gripped him like a vice as you shook and your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed. Not uncommonly, you would accidentally wake him in the middle of the night by snuggling closer and inadvertently grinding your ass on his growing erection. Thereafter, Krueger could bring you to the brink a fourth time, possibly a fifth, before sleep took hold of you once again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Originally, Krueger hadn’t seen the use of assistive tools (his words). When he was out in the field, sex became trivial and irrelevant, a distant indulgence meant for a different man. If desire ever arose, he had simply relied on his hand, believing the makeshift fleshlights some of his comrades liked to fuck were obscene.

Walking into your quarters unannounced one night had resulted in him catching sight of you wreathing atop your bed covers with a vibrator pressed against your clit. Your face had burned with embarrassment as you attempted to hide it behind your back, but Krueger had silently grabbed the foreign object before you could get the chance. He had turned it on and off a few times, had watched it buzz to life. Then, he’d crawled onto the bed and picked up where you had left off, your broken keens driving him to the conclusion that perhaps there was some merit to such toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When things got to the point where the two of you were actively tugging at each other’s clothes in the privacy of either your room or his, the time for teasing had passed, in Krueger’s opinion. Yes, the way you begged so prettily, tearing up in frustration when he didn’t immediately do whatever you so desperately wanted, was a magnificent sight, but he wasn’t a very patient man when it came to you.

Before this point, however, Krueger loved a good chase. He liked to give you a head start, to instill in you a false sense of security and the naïve belief that you could somehow outrun him. For ten minutes, he searched for you throughout the compound, though he knew exactly where he’d find you all along. Seeing you scramble from your hiding place in an attempt to make a great escape aroused something primal within him, and he clasped your ankles tightly in his grip, dragging your body closer to him. Krueger, the lion, had caught you, the gazelle, and he was going to spend the next several hours devouring his prize.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having long since assimilated to the stealth required of a sniper, Krueger wasn’t what you would describe as loud during sex, not even when he climaxed. He did, however, love to talk and thus kept his mouth close by, funneling all the poorly-stifled grunts and groans that you drew from him right into your ear. You had no doubt that Krueger’s filthy words could render the most composed of individuals a blushing mess. How he couldn’t withhold a curse in his native tongue whenever you clenched your walls around him, how he talked you through every blowjob, uncaring of the fact that you were far from a novice at the task. How he whispered his praise then laughed when he realized just a few sweet phrases were enough to have you dripping. So though he wasn’t loud, Krueger never shut up. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Krueger had an eye keener than most, being the excellent marksman that he was. It explained why he could effortlessly pick out each new bruise, cut, and scar that your body acquired, even in the hazy afterglow of sex. Without fail, he could uncover injuries you didn’t remember sustaining and old wounds you’d forgotten about years ago. He would then spend the next half-hour kissing every single one of them while you raked a hand through his dark blond hair. It was sensual, not sexual. It was the epitome of two soldiers bonding over a mutual pain; no judgment, no unnecessary apologies for the havoc that war had wrought. It was a declaration of his intentions to stay and of yours to let him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His skin was riddled with tattoos. There was one across his torso, on his shoulder, on his back; symbols. Krueger didn’t like to talk about them, and you figured they were the result of his time in captivity. Memorabilia of his past, an eternal portrait of his suffering. Now it was your turn to trace his markings with your tongue, leaving a trail of hickeys and saliva in your wake, on a mission to etch love into his skin, a companion to the hurt. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Honestly, Krueger’s sex drive had been neither overly high nor abnormally low, just average. When he was in the heat of battle, shooting heavy shotgun shells into bodies-turned-corpses and wiping bloodied knives on his pants in between each throat he slit, the only thing he thought about was his next kill. And when he returned from the fray, adrenaline pumping through hyperactive systems, he took a moment to unwind, stroking himself to a climax, then got right back to business. It was clinical; detached.

Not with you, though. In truth, he couldn’t get enough of you. He was insatiable, but that need also went beyond sex. Being near you was a balm to his soul, your mere presence able to soothe him of a life’s worth of buried ache. Before you, Krueger had never needed anyone other than himself, so he hadn’t quite known how to handle wanting you as much and as often as he did. Never had he experienced a need overlapping with a want, yet here you were, the manifestation of his every desire.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It used to be the case that Krueger refused to allow his mind or his body to slacken in front of you. Slumber signaled that someone was at their most vulnerable, and he knew what happened to those who let their guard down. But with every additional night the two of you shared, he’d been more and more helpless to stop his eyes from fluttering shut sooner and sooner until eventually, he started falling asleep before you, the soft snores that emanated from under his hood serving as your own personal lullaby. The morning after the first time this happened, he had avoided you, furious with himself for such a display of weakness. That night, however, he had again collapsed into your waiting embrace, out like a light.

[lahooozaherr]

What Was I Made For?

Part 1

Please note: This blog stands with Palestine. If you are interacting with my account and TLOU related posts, I ask that you PLEASE visit these links. Be critical and mindful while partaking in TLOU content and be aware that creator Neil Druckmann is a Zionist.

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Hypothermia??, soft!Joel, a pet name (sweetheart), Joel kinda goes to therapy, mention of child/loved one loss, I think that’s it but as always please let me know

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Chapter Summary: Joel and Tommy find you on their morning patrol, saving you from succumbing to hypothermia. You and Joel bond almost immediately, visiting you in your recovery. He takes your recommendation for a book you both relate to.

A/N: Howdy y’all, I’m so sorry I posted my Masterlist and lowkey ghosted :’D I went on vacation, my sweet bby cat passed away, life happened. But I finally got this edited where I want it and I hope I can keep those creative wheels turnings. Please comment and reblog if you end up liking it, it keeps me going!

Joel Vibes Playlist

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | My Taglist

It had been a long journey, but you think you’d finally made it as you trekked across the snowy landscape. It was barely before the crack of dawn, the sky still a deep blue with scattered stars. You did your best to travel here from your previous “home”, coming across a dead traveler’s map indicating the supposed safe place.

You were exhausted, cursing to yourself that you shouldn’t have pushed your body as much as you had. But you were desperate. And scared, so tired of being scared. Traveling alone was already risky, but with your body pushed to its limit, it was twice as much.

You find your way to a clearing with some trees and bushes when you collapse. Your body had quite literally given up on you, after everything you put it through. What a cruel irony that it would be just when you’d made it to your destination.

Consciousness was becoming harder and harder to hold onto as you laid there in the snow, body too worn out to even shiver. You get one last look of the night sky as everything fades to black.

—————————————————————————

Joel didn’t particularly care for patrol, he just simply did it because he was one of the most fit for the job. Settling in Jackson meant doing your part for the community, and this became his. But over time he appreciated the solitude it provided. Once in a while there had been trouble with a wandering Infected, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

An early horse ride through the quiet mountainside outside of the town just as the sun rises ended up being a soothing balm for his aches. He’d ride alongside Tommy, sometimes engaging in conversation, but most of the time the brothers rode on in a companionable silence.

There’s something healing about being able to spend time in nature without as much fear for impending danger or survival.

Tommy was midway through his explanation for plans to head straight to breakfast upon their return when he stopped, halting his horse underneath him. “Joel, look, do you see that?” He points ahead of him. Joel stops alongside him, following his pointer finger, squinting his eyes to see better. The sun had just started to rise and cast a bright light off of the snow.

Joel finally spots what Tommy is bringing attention to, what looks like a slumped-over body in the snow. He swiftly jumps off his horse, bringing his rifle over his shoulder to ready just in case of danger. He signs to Tommy for silence with a finger raised to his lips, quietly stalking towards the body. It doesn’t move.

When he approaches the body, seeing it’s you, he sighs and signs to Tommy that it’s safe. Tommy releases the breath he held in, “what is it?”

“A girl,” Joel kneels next to you and checks you over, bringing a hand to touch your face. You’re ice cold, enough for him to at first think you’re dead. But he knows better than to assume from just that, moving his fingers over your neck’s pulse point, then reaching for your wrist. He feels a pulse. Faint, but definitely there.

“She’s alive!” He shouts to Tommy, who jumps off his horse, reaching into the satchel on its side and pulls out a homemade quilt. After making a quick look for obvious wounds on your body, Joel makes quick work of removing his top coat and maneuvers you around to wrap you in it. It’s leather and thick, something that should hopefully trap any heat it can.

Tommy’s next to Joel’s side in an instant, handing him the blanket he also uses to wrap you in.

Joel shuffles on his knees to prepare himself to lift you, feeling a twinge in his lower back that makes him groan. Tommy holds his arms out, “here I got ‘er, don’t hurt your back.”

“Nah, nah it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it’s ok, you take care of the horses. I’ got her, I don’t want to try to sling her over one though.”

“Alright.”

Tommy returns to the horses, connecting the leash of Joel’s to his. He mounts his and leads them after Joel.

Joel adjusts you in his arms, cautiously getting you into a proper position to carry you. His eyes dart all over your features, taking them in. His mind runs through all the ways they can take a shortcut back to the town and considers them. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been out here and has no idea how much time you could have.

He scrunches the hood of the blanket around your face, not completely covering it but just enough to start building some warmth. For the meantime, at least.

He stomps one foot before the other in the snow, breaking it apart with the large steps to get through. Him and Tommy head back down their trail.

—————————————————————————

You are frozen, you can definitely feel that. Your limbs feel stiff and threaten to tremble more than they could be if it weren’t for the all encompassing embrace you feel. When you start to hazily come to, you realize you’re wrapped and being carried.

Hold on. You’re being carried?

Before you can even process the entire thought, your heart rate starts to pick up. You hear your blood in your ears and bile rises at the back of your throat as panic starts to set in. Where are you being taken? Whose carrying you?”

When you open your eyes, you don’t even stop to take a look at who's holding you, you just do your damndest to wiggle out of their arms.

“Whoa, WHOA there!”

You hear a man cry out but you continue to jerk away. He fumbles his grip on you but still manages to keep you close. He kneels to set you on the ground, leaning against him.

“Hey. Heyyy, settle down now,” he says in a low voice, attempting to calm you down. With his hand that’s not underneath you, he uses it to cup the side of your face and bring your attention to him.

You stop fighting back as soon as you meet his eyes. Dark, brown eyes you become instantly lost in. They look concerned, and warm as he keeps them on yours. You start to calm down, only the sound of your ragged breathing between you.

“Hey now, it’s ok, you’re safe I promise,” he almost pleads to you, attempting further to coaxe you down. Not that you have much strength to fight back anyhow. But the look in his eyes, and the sincerity in his voice, breaks through to you. You could almost cry, it’s a miracle you were found.

“We’re taking you back to our town,” he explains, his southern accent peeking through the lilt in his tone. “We’ll fix ya up there, ok sweetheart?”

Before he can really finish what he’s saying, you’ve been pulled back into a deep sleep. You’re finally experiencing a sliver of safety since god knows when, and it’s enough for your body to relax and give in to the darkness.

—————————————————————————

When you come to, your body feels instantly thrusted into fight or flight. You open your eyes with a sharp inhale through your nose, hands clutching the bedding surrounding you. You feel a large hand quickly cover yours, holding and giving an intentional squeeze.

You look over to that side of you and see the man from earlier. He’s seated beside you, one hand over yours and the other rubbing your shoulder. It feels like he’s trying to help ground you, once again.

“Hey I’m here, it’s alright,” he practically cooes. The timbre of his voice is stern but smooth at the same time. The hand on your shoulder runs up and down your arm.

You stare back at him, speechless. Your breathing is rapid and hard to bring down, heart hammering in your chest.

“Here, just breathe with me, ok?” He starts to demonstrate to you a breathing technique, inhaling and exhaling from his nose as well, in timed increments. You do as he says and follow along, matching your breathing to his. He guides the hand he’s holding to sit flat on your belly, then reaches for your other hand to place on your chest. He gives a quick grunt of approval as he continues along with you.

After a few minutes, your rapid heartbeat and breathing subside. When he notices, one side of his mouth turns up into a grin.

You study his features as you come down, noticing his eyes once again. He looks like a gruff man on the surface, but his emotions shine bright through his eyes. His salt and pepper hair is fluffy and slightly tamed. Scruff that matches frames his jaw, save for a few bare patches. But that doesn’t take away from how handsome he is.

“There now, there ya go,” he encourages, giving your hand another intentional squeeze. “The so-called therapist in town taught me that. Helpful, huh?”

You can’t seem to muster a response despite the thousands of questions that flood your mind. You look around at your surroundings and do your best to soak it all in. You’re in a normal bedroom, in a very normal bed covered with quilts. A normalcy you haven’t seen in so long.

You notice to the side of him is a pair of reading glasses on top of a book. When your eyes meet him again, he grins cautiously as he removes his hands and leans back. You already miss the safety of his touch.

“Did you….stay with me?” You finally stutter out a question. He sits straight in his seat and nods, you can see the flex of his shoulders from how tight his plaid shirt stretches across them.

“I figured you’d want to wake up to a somewhat familiar face,” he answers with a chuckle. “You’re in Jackson, by the way.”

You lean back against the pillows, releasing a sigh of relief. You made it, you really made it. And this man saved you, almost in more ways than one already.

“Name’s Joel,” he offers. In return, you share your name as well.

His gaze on you feels comforting, the most you’ve felt from a man in ages. It’s very hard to come by that in this world.

A knock on the door startles you, causing you to reflexively grab for Joel’s hand. He allows you, wrapping your hand in his. The door opens and a woman approaches from the other side, “hey there, heard some commotion. Is our girl finally awake?”

“She sure is,” Joel responds to her. She nods in acknowledgement to him and approaches your other side, “I’m one of the town doctors, Elaina.” You snap out of your daze and respond with your name again and she smiles.

“Joel got you here just in the nick of time, any longer and you would have been in serious trouble. Mild hypothermia. After a week or so of rest and recovery, you should be just fine. Apologies for the change in clothes, I had to check for wounds. I’m sure you understand.”

“H-how long was I out?”

“Not too long since I found you,” Joel interjects. “But at least been a day.”

The more you’ve sat at attention, the more you can feel the stiff soreness throughout your limbs. You slump back into the bed and release a breathy exhale. It definitely feels like it will be some time before you’re back up and running.

Joel pats your hand and stands, “I’ll be right back.” When he rises to stand, you reach out to grab his hand back. But halfway through you realize how strange that might seem and stop yourself. But he seems to notice, and gives you a reassuring smile, “I’m grabbing you some food, I won’t be long.” You concede, “ok.”

After he leaves, the doctor places a stethoscope across your back and chest. You do as she directs so she can check you over. She tells you to give yourself about a week or so before any activity, stay in bed, etc. and to not worry.

“Now that you’re in Jackson, you’re a part of the community, the details can be worried about later,” she affirms to you. Relief washes over you. You feel so grateful to have ended up here. To have been saved. Especially to be saved by Joel.

—————————————————————————

Later, Joel returns with a tray of food. Something light, for the time being. You can’t overdo it in this state. You thank him before promptly digging in.

He sits back in the chair he occupied before, bringing his book and glasses back to his lap.

“Is that what you were doing while you waited for me?” You query, as he responds with an amused huff, hanging the reading glasses in the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

“Yeah, had to pass the time somehow,” he mutters as he takes a quick shuffle through the book pages. “Been pretty caught up in this one lately.”

He holds it for you to see the name: No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy. The name seems familiar, maybe you’ve read something of his. It’ll probably come to you later.

You stop eating your food for a moment, processing the situation some more. “Thank you,” you begin to say.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies in a voice almost mournful. Haggard from years of living in this kind of world.

“Well, I am,” you state.

You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, not budging. His expression seems conflicted, like he doesn’t know how to receive thanks in the first place. He pats both of his legs before standing, picking up his book from your side table. “Well I best be lettin’ you rest.”

You wish you could ask him to stay, but prevent yourself from that as well. You’ve only just met the man, but even then, after only just meeting, he’s made you feel the most security you’ve had in so long. Maybe it’s the abandonment issues but your heart screams for him to stay.

You’re not sure how to respond with this whirlwind in your chest crying out for comfort. You settle with a nod to him on his way out. He stops in the doorway to give you a wave goodbye and pauses, eyes lingering on you before he finally turns to leave.

The doctor, Elaina, checks on you a few more times before leaving you to rest for the night. As much as you feel lonely, you also feel content. It’s hard to resist the real mattress and blankets that surround you. The silence is comfortable as you drift back into a proper slumber.

—————————————————————————

He returns the next morning, to your surprise again. He finds you sitting upright in bed, just after Elaina had done her morning check on you. She gives him a small smile in acknowledgment passing him on her way out of the door.

“You came back?” You questioned. He lingers in the doorway with a tray of food, eyes searching yours for silent permission to enter.

He looks down at the tray and back to you, “I figured I’d stop by after my patrol….bring you some proper breakfast.”

You’re stunned and start to become very aware of how obvious that emotion is displayed in your expression. It’s such a kind gesture, from someone who just barely met (saved) you yesterday. Worry laces his features subtly, when you notice you smile, “thank you.” His face brightens slightly, trading the worrisome facade for one of relief.

He gingerly sets the tray upon your lap and returns to the same seat beside you. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, you’re not sure if it’s from his busy morning or that he’s attained your approval. You don’t mind either way.

“How’re ya feelin’ today?” He asks, adjusting himself in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Already so much better,” you respond as you situate the tray of food on your lap. “I keep thinking it’s a dream. I haven’t been met with kindness like this in so long.”

His face is stoic but his eyes speak volumes, full of empathy. You can tell he understands the feeling without saying it. He leans back and folds his arms across his chest as he watches you take bites of your food.

“Where are ya from?”

“Denver QZ. I came across a map with notes about here. Figured I had nothing to lose.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. I’ve been alone for a while.”

The conversation grows grim, nearing a tender spot. A spot Joel is very familiar with.

“That’s very dangerous, travelin’ by yourself,” he states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It was. I’ve learned to be quiet and lie low. But I know I’m just lucky,” you sigh. You were very aware of how bad it could have gone. But self preservation is thin when you’re isolated and desperate. You don’t feel like you have to explain yourself much more in regards to that. He seems to accept it, though.

“Well…” he begins, taking your finished tray and setting it to the side. “You’ve come to the right place. Tommy’ll figure out the details.”

“Tommy?”

“My brother. He an’ I found you together, he’ll come see you himself eventually,” he continues.

“But you just worry about resting, leave to rest to us and Elaina. We’ll help you get settled in.”

You nod slowly, absorbing the new information. It’s been such a relief to have others to rely on, to finally find a community. You can’t wait for this fresh start.

You look around him, “didn’t bring your book today?”

“Ah, it’s at home. I thought about bringing it up but I didn’t know if you were going to talk my ear off or not,” he teases, giving you a half-grin.

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, “been a long time since I���ve done that, too.” You chuckle under your breath.

But as you relax back into the bed, stomach full, you feel like you could sleep forever. The satisfied feeling tempts you back to sleep, but you’re too interested in your new friendship with Joel. You wonder why such an intimidating man like himself chooses to stick by you.

“I was thinking about where I’d seen that author before, from the book you’re reading,” you tell him. “It’s been a very long time but I’ve read his book called ‘The Road’.”

You think back to when you had read the book, finding it in a pile in an abandoned library you’d stumbled into years ago. It was one of the few you’d taken.

“‘The Road’, huh?” He rubs at the scruff on his chin with his knuckles. “What’s it about?”

You give him a shrug, “well, a father and son in the apocalypse. Although a bit of a hard read, nowadays.”

Joel’s interest peaked, “father and son?”

You nod with a yawn, “But it’s honestly good, I still enjoyed it….” Your voice starts to trail off, growing more tired.

“Is that so?” He ponders for a moment, genuinely. “If I see it I’ll grab it.”

You nuzzle into your pillow with a sleepy grin as you close your eyes, “if you do…..we can talk about it….”

Joel watches you fall asleep, exhaustion finally winning over. He smiles to himself.

—————————————————————————

Joel does find the book, pretty quickly actually. When he left you to rest, he sought out the makeshift library in town. By a stroke of luck, the selection had plenty of that author. Even doubles of some of his titles. But Joel sifted through until he finally came across a copy of ‘The Road’.

He gives it a look over on his walk home, reading through the synopsis on the back.

A father and his son walk alone through burned America. Nothing moves in the ravaged landscape save the ash on the wind.

It makes him think of Ellie and Sarah. The world as it is now. He remarks on how ironic it feels to have this recommended to him, by someone who barely knows him.

He starts on it that night.

—————————————————————————

“You’re back,” you state, your eyes meeting Joel’s as he lingers in your doorway. Again, with a tray of food in his hands.

“I didn’t have patrol today,” is his only explanation he offers. You accept that, because you’ve been secretly hoping to see him again anyways.

He sets the tray in front of you as you murmur a thank you. He settles back into the seat next to you, “how are you feeling this morning?”

“Much better,” you explain. “I slept for so long, Elaina had to wake me up to eat dinner.”

“Good, I’m sure your body needs it.”

Heat threatens to cross your cheeks from that statement until you tamp it down, “do you eat?”

Joel quirks an eyebrow in response, you immediately realize how poorly the question sounded.

“I-I’m sorry, I mean, you’ve been bringing me food. I hope you’ve also been eating?”

“I do,” he shrugs. “But, it’s hard to, sometimes.”

The expression on his face is somber, something you find harder to read. But based on your personal experience, feelings like anxiety and stress can certainly do that to someone. You feel it’s best to not press further.

He reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a book, laying it next to your legs, “I found you some readin’ material.”

A soft gasp escapes your lips, followed by a smile. You pick up the copy of ‘The Road’, turning it in your hands. It’s been too long since you last held a book that wasn’t at least falling apart or being eaten by mold.

You flip through the pages, marveling at the condition. It’s not brand new by any means, but it’s at least cared for. Adorned with the regular wear and tear of readers' in the past.

“I’m almost done with it,” he notes. Your heart swells in your chest. He was so quick to find and read it. You see where he’s bookmarked it, just a couple of pages from the end. There’s just nothing like the feeling of someone taking your recommendation for a book and actually reading it.

“That was so fast!” You exclaim, opening the book where he last was.

“I couldn’t put it down, to be honest.”

“You must have really like it?”

“I do, very much,” he grins. “I saw some of myself in there.”

“I love when that happens, even if it’s sad.”

You start to skim through, looking for something. He watches you intently as your fingers slide through the pages. The look on your face is satisfying to him, a twinkle returning to your eyes.

“Ah, here, one of my favorite quotes,” you begin to read the passage out loud.

‘You have to carry the fire.

I don’t know how to.

Yes, you do.

Is the fire real? The fire?

Yes it is.

Where is it? I don’t know where it is.

Yes you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.’

You lift your head to meet Joel’s gaze, warm with a hint of sorrow. Your emotions probably match his own, in some capacity.

“It made me think of my daughter,” he admits quietly. Your smile drops, he gestures for you to hand him the book. When he takes it, he turns through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He reads the passage.

‘Each the other’s world entire.’

You remember that line. You’ve thought about that a lot. The meaning of it. You used to have others in your life like that. Loved ones lost to the beginning of the end of the world as you knew it.

He stares down at the page, caressing it with his thumb. His chest expands with a deep breath. When he looks back up to you, his eyes are glazed over. Your eyebrows turn upward in concern for him.

He jerks his chin towards your tray, “you should eat.”

You and almost entirely forgot about the food, too caught up in the moment to even feel your stomach rumble. You bring the tray closer to begin your meal, “your daughter?”

He doesn’t respond right away, which sends your stomach into a somersault. You feel insensitive for asking like that. For something so obviously personal and distressing.

“I-I’m sorry, I keep getting ahead of myself,” you stammered, launching into damage control mode. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he reassures you, his voice is tender and low. The nickname would be music to your ears if it weren’t accompanied with such sadness. But you’re so empathetic to this, you know how hard it can be to find the words. He doesn’t seem offended, at least.

Your meal is spent listening to him explain what happened, to your surprise. You’d half expect someone in his position to keep that closed off. A wound that still feels open and fresh.

But he tells what happened that day everything changed. How his daughter was ripped away from him so suddenly, her life slipped away as he held her in his arms. Cradled her long after she was gone, closer to his chest than the day she was born.

He also tells you about Ellie, how that relationship came to be. He’s more vague with this story, but you feel like you have a mutual understanding of that. You feel honored enough that he was willing to share with you. You’re happy he’s found purpose again. No one could ever replace Sarah, but Ellie became the lighthouse in the dark that he desperately needed, much to his own surprise.

It’s extremely hard to move on from something like that. It’s frightening to find new love and always fear of losing it again. It’s scary to be vulnerable in an apocalyptic world that seeks to stamp down any semblance of safety and consistency.

Food tray long since finished and set to the side, you bring the book back to your lap as you listen to him finish his story. You thumb through the pages until you find a line that came to your mind as he spoke about Sarah and Ellie. You read it out loud.

‘You have my whole heart. You always did.’

He smiles softly, cupping his hand over yours to give you a small affectionate squeeze as you hold the book. You return the gesture, opening your palm for him. His hands are large, warm and calloused. The warmth of his hand in yours is soothing.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you comfort him.

“I don’t usually do that,” he murmurs as he brings a sleeve up to dab at the tears that say at the ends of his eyes. “Must be special.”

You smile bashfully, your eyes drawn down to your lap to avoid his gaze. You hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest.

“I regularly ask myself….if I couldn’t save my baby, the one most precious to me, what was I made for?”

You meet his eyes with tears pricking at the ends of yours, you try to convey as much empathy and compassion as possible in your eyes. Let him read them.

“You were made to love, and be loved,” you tell him, matter of factly.

His lips part in awe, rendered speechless. You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if he had only simply forgotten this fact.

Not him, not with his past, not with the blood on his hands, is what he almost says. You had both alluded to each other at times that you’ve both had to do things to survive this world. Most have. But you were still somehow loving, kind and compassionate. Even to someone like him. He knows how he comes across to people in town, and it’s hard to adjust and unlearn that survival habit to be brooding and formidable. But it’s also what’s comfortable, what he’s used to. It’s carried him this far in life.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes.

Divider by @saradika (I usually make sure to reblog your dividers but I wasn’t sure if I got this one so I’m tagging you here. I usually get my dividers from you but I don’t want to spam you with my fics so I wanted to let you know here at least ;3;)

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Motivation Tactics

Summary: You’re having a hard time finding the motivation to finish a work assignment with an upcoming deadline. While you're on a conference call, Bradley decides to help you release some of the frustration and tension you’re feeling. His knees may not thank him later, but you sure will.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.2K 

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), language, talk of work deadlines and jerk coworkers. 

Notes: Some shameless shenanigans, because why not? This can be read as a standalone, though I envisioned it within the RYEWID/Forgetful Boy universe, but there’s no specification on if this is before or after the series. 

______

“God, you are such a fucking dick.”

Bradley raised his eyebrows as he approached your office. He had just gotten home from work and you hadn’t responded when he called out for you upon entering the house. He had climbed the stairs with the intent to find you and clearly he’d been right in his assumption that you were holed up where you spent the majority of your work day. 

“What’d I d-woah,” he exclaimed as he made it to the doorway. 

Something Bradley had learned about you very early on was that you were, frankly put, a neat freak. It complemented his own tidy tendencies well. Your house was always clean and organized, to the point where your friends made jokes about being able to eat off the floors. It was important to you. 

This…was not that.

Your desk was in the middle of the room instead of its normal place against the wall, computer wires stretching from the outlet. Your bookshelf was backed into a different corner than it normally was but all the books and knick knacks were strewn out across the carpet. The chair you kept in the corner was on the opposite side of the room with the throw pillow nowhere to be found. 

You were there amongst it all, seated at your desk chair. Your hair was piled on top of your head, glasses perched on your nose. You barely offered him a glance as you angrily typed away on your keyboard. 

“Not you,” you clarified. “This jerk!” 

“Okay…but why is your desk in the middle of the room?”

Bradley winced at the glare you sent him as you explained you had gotten a bout of writer’s block and started to rearrange your office as a distraction. You had been in the middle of it when you got a phone call from the editor you had been partnering with, someone you had worked with several times and who often sought you out to write for her, telling you that another journalist had requested the assignment. 

“That’s bullshit,” Bradley said, feeling genuine frustration on your behalf. You worked harder than almost anyone he knew, and were so passionate about every story you write. He remembered how excited you had been the night before when this one landed in your inbox. “Is she going to let him have it?” 

“No,” you scoffed with a shake of your head, “but now he’s emailing me trying to tell me that his sources are better than mine and he isn’t going to give me access to them. Well jokes on him because I already spoke with them. But he’s also threatening to write it anyway and post independently on a blog. So I need to get this finished, but I have this stupid conference call in ten minutes that I don’t even know why I agreed to be on. And my office is a mess!” 

“Hey hey hey,” he soothed, nearly accidentally tripping over your printer on the floor as he walked further into the room to your side. He swung your chair around to face him as he dropped to a knee to be more level with you. He turned your face to look at him with a long finger hooked under your chin. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You were still frowning when he pulled away, but the crease in your forehead had smoothed slightly. Still, he ran his thumb over your lips and to your cheek, pushing up on your skin to force a smile on your face. You swatted at his hand at the action, but you were giggling now and Bradley felt as accomplished as he had been all day; he always did when he was the source of your laughter.

“What are you struggling with, Pumpkin?” he asked. He rested his hands on your bare thighs, rubbing up and down slowly. You were in an old Navy sweatshirt and loose athletic shorts and as much as he loved you dolled up for him, he loved these looks of yours just as much. Truthfully, he loved you in anything, or even nothing at all.

He listened as you rambled on about what you were working on, offering his input when appropriate. He knew that sometimes you just needed to talk it out and he was always happy to be on the receiving end. After about five minutes, you were speaking mostly to yourself as you worked through your ideas, jotting them down in a notebook. He sat back on his feet, just watching you until your computer started dinging to signal the start of your conference call.

He pressed a kiss to your lips and swiped your water bottle from on top of a stack of books, intent on refilling it for you. 

When he got back to your office, your eyes were darting between your monitors and you were tapping your pen against the surface of your desk. He could hear someone droning on about ethics in journalism and sourcing. He knew you were barely paying attention and that your mind was working a mile a minute wanting to get back to work, and that you’d be restless like this until the call was over and you could. 

You chewed on your bottom lip before soothing it over with your tongue, and an idea popped in Bradley's head that immediately had him stirring in his pants. He thought it over for a moment before ultimately deciding that the pros far outweigh the cons, and if you didn’t want it, you could stop him.

With that in mind, he set your water down. You glanced up at him with a smile, and he winked at you before sinking to his knees in front of the desk, crawling under it as best as he could. It was a tight fit, but he made it work. You jerked when he started dancing his way up your legs, just barely ghosting over your skin with his fingertips. When he got to the hem of your shorts, a hand reached down to grab his wrist. He paused in his movements, but after a moment, you let him go and lifted your hips to help him achieve his task of tugging your shorts and underwear down. With a smirk, he spread your legs wider. You scooted closer to the edge of the chair without him even having to ask. 

Bradley left gentle presses of his lips on the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin every few kisses and then soothing it over with his tongue. You were squirming in anticipation and he stroked his thumbs in the curve of where your hips met your stomach, trying to help you relax. He blew a soft breath over where you were starting to glisten for him and your whole body shuddered. He took your right leg and draped it over his shoulder, shimmying as close to you as you could.  He pressed one hand against your lower stomach beneath your sweatshirt and gripped one of the arms of your chair to keep it steady with the other before he finally leant in. 

He flattened his tongue against your folds, licking a solitary stripe up and gathering your juices on his tongue. He groaned quietly at your taste as he dove back in. He switched between licking into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He knew the altering sensations were something you enjoyed. As much as your position allowed, your hips started to move against his mouth. He pulled away and the hand on your stomach came down to hold your hip instead. 

“Stay still for me, baby. Can you do that?” 

You let out a breathy promise of doing what he asked and Bradley kissed the inside of your thigh. 

“Good girl.” 

He nudged your clit with his nose before licking into you again. You whined quietly for him, and he wished he could see your face from this angle. One of your hands crept below the desk and found a home on the back of his head, fingers threaded through his curls, holding him against your cunt. Your other leg came to drape across his free shoulder. Your wetness coated his face. He was completely surrounded by your taste and scent and he hummed happily, making you shiver again. 

Bradley wasn’t hurried in getting you off. Instead, he ate you out leisurely. He explored every inch of your pussy with his mouth and tongue. He would focus on the areas he knew you were the most sensitive for a few seconds longer than the rest before moving on. Your fingers tightened in his hair every time he did it.  You tasted so good that he thought he could stay on his knees between your legs like this for hours, his knees and back be damned.

The speaker on the call said your name and you gasped quietly, clearly not expecting it. Bradley paused for a moment, giving you a false sense of security. He heard your mouse click and the small ding that indicated you had taken yourself off mute and pulled your clit between his lips and sucked hard. Your hips jerked and he tightened his grip on the chair to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall. You coughed to cover up the words you stuttered over, clearing your throat. You pulled hard on his hair, but your thighs tightened around his head. 

You didn’t want him to stop, but he knew he’d pay for that stunt later - he couldn’t wait. 

He went back to his previous pace as you spoke. You kept it as short as you could and Bradley almost chuckled when someone asked you a question, forcing you to expand. You were starting to tremble. 

He didn’t really comprehend any of what you were saying, but your voice washed over him like a pleasant hum. He zeroed in on how much he loved listening to you and imagined you were demanding him go harder and moaning his name instead of speaking about ethics and writing styles, never taking his mouth off of you. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he registered you saying your goodbyes right before your laptop slammed shut, and his name really was falling from your lips. 

“God, fuck, Bradley!” 

You sounded wrecked and it had him doubling down on his efforts. You had been so patient with him and now he was more determined than ever to make you come for him. 

He brought the hand that was holding your hip down to your pussy. He didn’t hesitate before he slipped two fingers inside of you. You were so wet, and as he started fucking you with them, your cunt let out the most obscene sounds. He drew your clit back into his mouth, humming and sucking. You pushed his head further into you and grinded your hips against his face and this time he let you, knowing you were close. The hand that wasn’t in his hair slapped down against the top of your desk. The moment he curled his fingers inside of you, you were shattering. 

The moan you let out was long, loud, and absolutely beautiful. Bradley removed his fingers but didn’t let up with his mouth until you were done riding out the orgasm you had earned. You let your legs fall from his shoulders as your whole body shook.

When your hand fell from his hair, he pushed your chair back far enough to let him pop up between you and the desk. His back popped and he knew he’d be sore later, but it didn’t stop him from licking his lips and grinning at you, slumped back in your chair with your chest heaving. 

“You think you can concentrate now?” he asked.

You laughed breathlessly and sat up straighter to pull him into a kiss. You licked into his mouth with no hesitation of tasting yourself and Bradley’s dick twitched, hard in his khaki pants. 

God, he loved you so much. 

When you separated, the dazed smile was still on your face, but you nodded at his previous question. 

“Good,” he said. “Why don’t you take your laptop out to the back porch and write out there, and I’ll get your office back in order for you?” 

You hummed in response, and after he helped you slide your shorts back on, you followed his advice and unplugged your laptop from the dock it was set up on. Your legs were a little shaky as the two of you stood and Bradley steadied you with a hand on your hip, a smirk threatening to take over his face. 

You rolled your eyes at the look, and before he could even process you were moving, the hand not holding your laptop reached down to palm him through his uniform pants. He choked out a groan as you squeezed. But just as quickly as you had done it, you were stepping away from him completely. Unlike him, though, your smirk was planted firmly on your face. You winked at him over your shoulder as you walked to the door. There was an extra bounce in your step as you called back to him. 

“I’m suddenly feeling incredibly motivated to get this done. Maybe when I do, you can proofread it while I return the favor.” 

------

End Notes: My work days would be SO much better if this is how they went. I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world💚

Special thanks to Mak and Em for everything, as always.

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[bloodstainedsaint]

things better left unsaid. (dick winters x nurse! reader)

summary: you find out that perhaps war is not the best time for romance. (written as two letters from the two of you)

word count: 1650+

warnings: sappiness, angst of the pining variety, breakup(?), and ofc mentions of war

notes: any feedback would be appreciated 🫶, also inspired by @currahee's post about dick's "completely platonic" female penpal. since i've never read the letters between him and that woman myself, i took one line and ran with it

Letters written two days before D-Day. Though they were never meant to, both letters accidentally, and in no way aided by nurses and Easy Company men (specifically a man named Lewis Nixon) alike, make their way to their receiver.

Dear Dick,

I still remember the day you came into the base's hospital, looking for one of your men who’d been injured during a field exercise. You had made it difficult to pay attention to the soldier I was treating, asking like a concerned father if he would be alright. Not to mention your flaming red hair out of the corner of my eye.

Noting stupidly in the back of my mind the entrancing blue-green shade of your eyes, I had smiled and told you he would make a quick recovery. You’d returned my smile and said you'd be back to check on him. Like some silly schoolgirl, I had secretly looked forward to the return of this tall, attractive man.

Over the course of your several returns, we’d talked about ourselves while your private slept. Our easy conversations concerned simple topics, like where we came from, what we did before the war, and what we would do after it was over—though the fighting had yet to truly begin for us. There was a rumor going around base that you were a Quaker; lucky me, I found out you weren't before everyone else did.

There weren't many injuries at that time, and I guess you'd decided to stick around to watch your soldier recover. I was grateful for your company, as you were unlike a lot of the men I had encountered working here: flirty, overconfident, vulgar, you know the like. You were reserved and gentlemanly, with a small smile that I could tell you didn't show many others and a dry sense of humor. I suppose your humble beginnings in Pennsylvania had shaped you into a humble man.

Even after your soldier was released from the hospital, you came to visit me. I wasn’t sure why, and still am not today. You were a busy man after all—why spend time with a random, dime-a-dozen nurse? I wasn't complaining, though; like the fool I am, I had already began catching feelings for you, which I was sure were unreciprocated. You were probably just being respectful, I reasoned when I found my mind was full of thoughts of you, someone so upstanding wouldn't risk a relationship in times like these. If only I knew I was right. I wouldn't have bothered staying up at night overthinking every little thing you did.

During your free time, you would help me treat other patients, keep stock, move boxes, routine things like that. Over time your visits grew in frequency; so much so that your men had started teasing you whenever they saw you enter — sneak away to, rather — the nurse’s facility. I missed your company when you couldn't come visit, when arduous training took up too much of your time.

Fortunately for me, we started meeting while I was off-duty. Not surrounded by dozens of men, these stolen moments proved to be much more intimate. Taking walks around the base during the early morning before anyone else had risen or late at night when the base was fast-asleep was one of my favorite past times with you. You'd walk me to my small living quarters and offer me your jacket if it was cold, tell me about the seemingly universally hated Captain Sobel and how your men were doing. Sometimes our hands would brush, and I would feel my cheeks get warmer despite the biting cold. I could've sworn I saw your cheeks redden as well as your eyes snapped to our hands and just as quickly were averted.

Winter was coming to an end, and as the planned date for the Normandy invasion came closer, nerves were rising all around base. One mild evening, after a week of not being able to visit, you confided to me your concerns about the war. I boldly, brazenly, took your hands in mine and reassured you that everything would work out in the end. Holding my breath, we stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime before you tentatively leaned your head down and kissed me. That was the first time I’d ever seen you unsure of yourself. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest; what if we got caught? What would they do to us, to you, after everything you'd gone through? But at that moment, time slowed down. Nothing mattered. It was just you and me, my hands in yours, and your lips on mine.

After our kiss, your visits started becoming more sporadic, until days without you stretched into weeks of silence. Do you know how much I longed to hear your calm, steady voice during a busy day, to watch the dew on the grass in the morning with you, to feel the warmth of your presence next to me as the stars twinkled in the sky? Eventually, I resolved to pull you away somewhere private the next time I saw you and give you a piece of my mind.

And so I did. As soon as I saw your tall figure, I took you behind the hospital and confessed everything I was feeling towards you: the hurt, the bitterness, the betrayal, the love. Irritatingly composed, you firmly told me that you had no time for such frivolities in war. As the words left your lips, I felt my heart shatter into a million different pieces and settle like glass in my gut. I told you, my voice not even sounding like my own, “if that's what you want,” and I entered the hospital again.

It's been a week since then, and two days before you drop into Normandy. And though you'll never read this, I yearn ask you: is that what I was all along? Some distraction that you entertained before I had to be pushed aside? I would've waited for you to come back to me after the war, would've waited for a better time. Is this it for us?

Although it pains me to say that I still love you, it seems that some things are better left unsaid.

Sincerely, (Y/N)

-

Dear (Y/N),

It’s now two days before our drop into Normandy. Much has happened to Easy Company since Toccoa. Much has happened between you and I since we met here in England, while you were treating one of my men.

I never regarded you as a potential suitor; I couldn't do that to you. Knowing that in a few months time we would be parachuting into France, I was reluctant to develop things any further. As it stood, I had already taken an unprofessional liking to you since that day we met in the base's hospital. Our following conversations certainly did not help the matter. Starting a relationship would have jeopardized my men and myself. I had to focus on running the company, and when we got deployed, I knew having a sweetheart back somewhere safe would have fogged my mind and gotten me or someone else killed.

Yet in spite of my reservations, I got ahead of myself and began spending more and more time with you. Though it was never explicitly confirmed between the two of us, and though we never said it, many would have considered us dating. We both knew what we were doing. For a while, and with the encouragement of Nixon, I relished being with you, taking you out every morning and night, assisting you with your tasks for the day. It was nice to get away from the duty of watching over my men and focus on the person I adored.

In the spring, as the day of the invasion loomed ahead of us, things were ramping up. I couldn't see you as often as I used to or would've liked to. The day I could ended up being the day we kissed, when things changed irrevocably between us. I wasn’t acting like myself that day; I let my feelings get in the way. When I stared into your eyes, I saw a lifetime with you, and without meaning to and without much due thought, I leaned down and pressed my lips to yours. From that day on, I knew I couldn't let this continue.

I needed space from you after that, before I went careening into the uncharted territory that is romance. It pained me to avoid you, but it was for the best: I'm a ranking officer, and you're a ranking nurse. Being caught fraternizing puts us both at risk.

But more importantly, it wasn't fair to you, my men, or myself. Easy Company needs a levelheaded leader. If I were to panic in the midst of enemy fire thinking about getting back to a lover, I'd be letting them and myself down. And the thought of you receiving a letter informing you of my death is something I could never forgive myself for.

I said as much when I told you I had no time for such frivolities in war. You didn't deserve that. I'll never forget the hurt that flashed across your face. I see it every day, reflected in the morning dew on the grass and in the stars at night. In everything I used to enjoy with you.

Nixon has since convinced me to rethink my decision to break things off. Nix is a very persistent man, you could guess. I don't think two days is enough to mend what is irreparable. But I can start with a letter I'll never send, so that if the Lord allows us to meet again, I can tell you this personally:

There may not be time for frivolities in war. But when the war ends, there will be time enough for you.

Sincerely, Richard Winters

[yuyu1024]

Darling

Pairings: Seonghwa × y/n

Genre/tags: friends and more

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, cursing, sensual touching/making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, semi public, bj [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: likes and reblogs much appreciated ⭐️

Check pinned post for more✨️

****

Half asleep, you wake up early in the morning to force yourself to jog. You've been slacking with it for the past month already. School have really messed up your routine.

Before you go and get ready to wash your face up, you decided to go down the kitchen first to grab a glass or water and prepare the tumbler you will be carrying for the run.

It's still a bit dark and again, half asleep, that you didn't find it weird that when you entered the kitchen area, the lampshade near the dining table is on. So when a deep ass voice started speaking behind you, you almost dropped down on the floor and faint.

"Fuck!" You gasp as you finally see it was Seonghwa. "You scared the shit out of me." Your hands on your chest and trying to collect yourself

"I didn't mean to..." he say then leans his lower back on the island counter top. "You're up early." His arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm going for a run... need to release some stress..." you say as you open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. "You?"

"I'm horny." He spat, making you almost choke on the water your drinking

You wipe your mouth. "W-what did you say?!?"

He puts his index finger over his plump, rosy lips. "Sshh... they are still asleep."

He is pertaining to your brother, Wooyoung, and the other boys. Some is sleeping up stairs in Wooyoung's room while Yunho and probably San is sleeping in the guestroom downstairs since they were up all night playing video games.

It's the beginning of summer so they are all in your house, having some boys slumber party. And they will be here for a few more days.

"You guys drank a lot last night... why are you awake now?"

"Again....as I said..." he stands up straight and lips curved in a small smile. "I'm horny... if you don't get that... It means I want sex... I want to fuck... I want..." he's moving closer and closer to you until your back touches the fridge. "I want to eat you..."

Your bodies are close to each other that you could actually feel his hardness through his pajamas and yours.

"W-why... me?"

"C'mon darling..." he leans down to whisper, "you know why... you've been teasing me since yesterday..."

You blush at the thought. Yes. You actually did. Not gonna lie, maybe it's because you had a few drinks too but not to the point your drunk. It just became liquid courage for you.

You've been crushing on him for more than a year now. He's been friends with your brother for so long. But you have no idea where this crush actually began. You thought it was just nothing until it got solidified more than a year ago.

How can you not like Seonghwa? He's sweet, kind, caring, passionate and such a good friend and person in general. Plus he's good looking and smart. And probably, one thing you like about him too is his naughty side.

But this KIND of naughty, is new to you.

"Wearing a a fitted top and those tiny shorts of yours?" He tugs your hair behind your ear before he takes you by your chin and make you look at him. "And when we were playing games... you make sure I get to have a good view of your ass and then brushing your chest onto my arm purposely..." he leans in again, lips close to your ear. "Just thinking about it makes me hard and ready to burry my d!ck in your pu$sy."

Oh shit. Your knees weakened a little. He sound so fucking sexy.

"What do you say? Darling... should we try... if you could take my d!ck well?"

His eyes are burning. He's different from the Seonghwa you see often. This is intense. In a good way.

"Ahm..." your breathing is all over the place as his hands begins to roam around your body.

"Give me your consent, darling." He pushes his pelvis to you more. His fucking hard as rock. "I've been wanting to fuck you since last night... but the boys are night owls and I can't find the timing to pull you out of your bed."

You are shaking and excited at the same time.

"What do you want to do?"

He smirks devilishly. "I want to fuck that beautiful mouth of yours first... would you like to try?"

You suddenly got brave and cup his bulge. "Feed me." You tease before you tip toe and go for a kiss.

His eyes widens after the cute peck you gave him but then the warmth in his eyes changes to something dark.

"Go down on your knees." He orders

Your mouth goes dry. This is your first time doing something like this. You've dated a few boys but didn't got to this. Seonghwa is a man and you're not a little girl anymore too. Making out is just basic. This is more than basic.

Slowly pulling down his pajama pants down, you almost choked on nothing as you see it clearly and close up. The length. The veins. The redness. The leaking tip.

"Fuck." You hiss as you grab him using both hands. "Wow..." You quietly move forward and begin to taste him.

You tongue run from the bottom to the tip. Feeling those edges that are so freaking beautiful that makes you wonder how it will feel if he puts it inside of you.

"Ugh... ah... that's it... ahhh...holy shit..." Seonghwa is moaning, nonstop as you let your tongue play around his length. "Fuck! darling, I never knew... you'd be this..." he pauses as he felt the warmth of your mouth. "Ohhh yes..."

You bop your head, sucking and licking every bits of him making him crazy. You're making sure he'll be wanting more from you or if not, will never forget the service you've given him.

"Y/n!" He cries. He puts his hands on the fridge for support. "Damn it!"

He pulls you up from your knees and start to make out with you.

"Fuck!" He looks at you, eye to eye. "You're not wearing a bra?" His hand is on your right boob, squeezing. He could feel how turned on you are under the shirt you are wearing. The tip is very hard and pointy. "8 guys... 7... less Woo...in this house and you're not wearing... a fucking bra? Do you know how dangerous this is?"

You smile putting your arms around his neck. "Do you want me to put on a bra or you'd want to taste it?"

A wide devilish grin spread across his lips. "You one naughty little princess..." he licks his lower lips and grinds his exposed length to your still covered core. "You'd regret turning me on even more... coz' darling... I'd bet you can not go jogging after I'm finished with you."

"Give it a go then..." you glance at the wall clock in the kitchen. "We have less than a hour before sunrise... before my parents and the rest of the boys wake up..."

He growls at your challenge. "Alright then..." he adjusts your positions and making you face the countertop. "Bend over..." he orders "and make sure to keep quiet..."

[benkeibear]

☰ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

⧫ Character: Taiju

⧫ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

⧫ WARNINGS: Sub!Reader, mentions of sex while pregnant, anal, choking, daddy kink, oral (m! And f! Receiving), breeding

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ꕤ He's very gentle after, no matter how rough He was before

ꕤ makes sure you’re okay and helps you to clean up, will cuddle you if you ask

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ꕤ He likes his biceps because He's strong and you made him like his hands again, knowing He can be gentle

ꕤ on you He likes your chest and your smile, his heart could explode when you give him one of your sweet smiles

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ꕤ Always in you, doesn't want to waste a drop of his cum

ꕤ He cums quite a lot and it's rather thin, almost translucent and tastes slightly bitter but nothing too bad

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

ꕤ He really wants to fuck you while you’re pregnant with his child, it's the hottest thing to imagine for him but He would never do it unless you suggest it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

ꕤ despite what people believe since He was in a Gang and all He saved himself for marriage

ꕤ all the experience He had was from porn and magazines but he's a natural, reading your body language well

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ꕤ face down, ass up or mating press

ꕤ loves to have full control over you as He pounds his release Into you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ꕤ given that Taiju isn’t really a goofy person he's also quite serious in bed

ꕤ But not in an awkward poker face way, more in a concentrated way

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

ꕤ He either has a small bush or trims it, depends on how he's feeling lately

ꕤ if you want him to shave it off He would gladly do so for you - but only if you go bare as well

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ꕤ He went all out on your wedding night, candles and rose petals formed to a heart on the bed on which He rocked into you with utmost care

ꕤ But those romantic moments are reserved for special occasions

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ꕤ Before marriage He had to almost daily, getting frustrated from how much you turn him on

ꕤ now He just asks his pretty wife to take care of him, a simple hand job would be enough as long as it's from you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ꕤ Daddy kink, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia

ꕤ likes to choke you as well if the mood is right

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ꕤ Mainly on the bed or the shower

ꕤ He's a very private man so mostly in your apartment

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

ꕤ having You dressed up in white lace, looking all innocent and submissive

ꕤ When you listen to what He tells you to do without questioning it

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

ꕤ fear play, non con, sharing you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

ꕤ prefers receiving, especially if you initiate and sit on the floor between his legs and let him guide you

ꕤ if you ask him to, He will also eat you out, prefers to have you sitting on his face then but you're only allowed to get off of him when He had enough

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

ꕤ He's quite brutal, pounding into you so his balls slap against your skin over and over

ꕤ even during the romantic times He can’t help himself but to pound into you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

ꕤ doesn't like them at all

ꕤ wants to have as much time with his wife as He wants. If there's no time He makes time for it

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

ꕤ He would never do anything in public, maybe the staff room of his restaurant after closing time

ꕤ otherwise He would try out things He thinks would be nice or if you ask him for it

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

ꕤ He can go 4-5 rounds and lasts quite long as well

ꕤ there's no time needed between each round, wanting to fill you up as many times as He can

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ꕤ He doesn't own any toys for himself but has a pretty collar for you and a few small toys He likes to use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ꕤ not much, He prefers to overstimulate until you're crying

ꕤ don't even think about teasing him, He will only get mad

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

ꕤ He's growling a lot and moans very low when He cums

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

ꕤ if He gets angry with you He punishes you right away, either by refusing you an orgasm or by taking you from behind, bullying his cock into your ass

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

ꕤ nice length of 8 inches but he's very thick, you can't wrap your hand around him completely and it does hurt without some prepping

ꕤ He's cut and has a red tip, and two veins that connect into one on the side of his shaft

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

ꕤ very high, especially if you're trying for a child

ꕤ if it's up to him you two are at it like bunnies

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ꕤ The more rounds you two had, the faster He falls asleep

ꕤ But no matter how tired He is, He will always clean you up and make sure you’re okay and feel loved

[lucluvr]

I’LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE ... ! (ZHONGLI) 

# synopsis...! – the war has ended, peace has returned to liyue harbor. morax finally has a day off to enjoy. he wakes up besides his partner and he can’t help but touch them

# contains … ?! - explicitly nsfw ! creampies, gn!reader, afab anatomy is used in here, a little bit of fluff, degradation, praise, use of petnames: doll, darling, sweetheart, you call zhongli “my lord”, begging, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, dumbification, aftercare !! 

notes ... ?! - lowercase is intentional btw !! 

# word count… -  3k

# a/n !! - hi ~~ okay so ik i said i have a kaeya fic planned, which i do dw dw !! i have an old ao3 fic sitting in my doc, so i decided why not post it bcos tbh i rlly love it. im a big dumbification lover so yeah... anyways please enjoy and stay safe :D 

zhongli is a man of many secrets, but these secrets will unfold in the future. as of now, he's just simply morax who basks in your warmth in the early mornings. he snuck out of bed, grabbing a robe, tying the ribbon around his waste, swiftly and tightly. he quietly brews himself a cup of tea, and one for you. he allows it to cool down on the bedside table, softly tucking himself back under the covers.

he rouses you from your sleep with quiet shushes being made to pull you back. but his small comfortings go to waste, as you scrunch your eyes, slowly opening them. the golden rays being shielded by the light colored curtains made your eyes sting. blinking, twice, now thrice, you finally are able to open your eyes. you're greeted by a very happy morax. his tattoos are even glowing. 

"well good morning, my love," he smiles softly, moving your hair out of your face. he changed your spot from when you fell asleep. before your arms were draped over his shoulder, his head on your chest. now it seems that the tables have turned. his smile is soft, yet too wide. he's known to be cheeky, especially at times like this. you look away from his eyes, dragging them down to his arms. they're adorned with fingernails marks and his tattoos. if you squint, you can see they shine ever so slightly in the early morning light. 

"good morning," you clear your throat. he chuckles softly, feeling the vibrations oh his laugh. he leans down, kissing the crown of your head, turning on his side to face you. the robe falls off his shoulder slightly, revealing more of his arms and collarbone. seeing the sight, draws your attention to his neck and chest. they're painted with marks of you. the sight makes your stomach fill with butterflies and your cheeks are flushed.

xiansheng is anything but dumb. he clearly understands every expression you make, the ever so slight tilts of your lips, the fastening pace of your breathing, and the redness all over you cheeks and ears. he coos at the sight, pulling you closer with an arm wrapped around your waist. 

"did you sleep well?" he asks, gently grasping your hand, kissing every knuckle. he makes his way down your wrist, gently massaging it as an apology. the sight of him so close and his lips latched onto your wrist makes you look away. 

"yes, very. are you going out of town again today?" you ask him, a slight whine in your voice. he picks up on it, slightly raising his eyebrow. he understands your need last night, but again? it amuses him no less and adds to the cards he can put down to make you tremble. 

"no, not today. im free today, besides a meeting, but that's in the afternoon. the war has ended, yet they all seem to drag it along even further. especially that barbatos boy. he's a pain in my ass," morax grumbles, shifting his focus to your other wrist. you chuckle at the sight of seeing such a short man piss of a giant like rex lapis. 

"be careful, he can hear you," you wink at him, releasing a small laugh from the man. you slowly pulls you even closer, your arms now draped over his shoulders. he pulls you in for a kiss, a quick one. he makes his way down your jaw, neck, chest. he lays you down gently, his lips attached to your chest, darkening and making new marks. 

his thumb runs over your ribs, holding you in place softly. the feeling of him latching onto you makes you want to squirm, but he never allows that. 

"stay still," he mumbles into the crook of your neck. he slowly pulls away, laying himself on his stomach between your legs. his hands grabs onto one of your thighs, slowly lifting it over his shoulder. he softly bites into the softness of your thighs, but his other hand keeps you in place. all you can really do in this moment in whine his name and pray that he gives you what you want, but then again, he likes to be the one in control.

he stares up at you, his eyes dilating as the sight of you. he understands how needy you are, really he does. he's been with you for years, taken you day after day, but you never fail to surprise him as to how needy you can get. he's a man who likes to take his time, relax after a hard days work, but you can't. after being apart for so long after long, excruciating days, you want nothing more than to please the man you love. he finds it adorable as to how much he can get you to beg.

"my lord…please hurry," you shuffle slightly. your face is plastered in the pillow, embarrassed beyond belief. he takes pleasure in seeing you so shaky and needy. there's been a few times he's want to see you cry, yet he can't do that to you no matter how pretty you look like that. yet, his demeaning words aren't a subject of guilt.

"you did so well yesterday, being patient and still, why can't you be like that now? i've morphed you into such a needy thing." he hums has he purposely puffs out air along your thighs. he pauses for a moment to take in the sight above him. he admires your flushed out features, pretty body, everything about you. his heart swells. he's so in love. despite his absolute love and adoration for you, that doesn't mean you can get away with being so disobedient without a slap on the wrist. "i ought to stop spoiling you so much, hm? maybe leave you high and dry for a day or so," you whine into the pillow, rutting your hips towards him, pleading with him. he rubs your hip with his thumb in soothing circles, but keeps a firm grip holding you in place.

"i can't take anymore, please…" as said before, all you can do is whine and beg him. you squirming around though isn't helping your clause. 

"if you stay still, then yes, i'll be very happy to help you, my darling. you just need to stay put okay?" he sucks on the flesh of your inner thigh. his other hand spreads your legs further apart, slipping his pointer finger in. you shiver at the intrusion. he continues to nip at your thighs, making no effort to move his finger. he taps your hip, sinking his finger in deeper. he crooks his finger upwards.

"darling, come now, i can't do all the work for you, can i?" you shake your head. he smiles into your skin, "you know what to do" the words roll off his tongue, and your hips practically move on their own. your hand grips onto his shoulder, tugging him closer. 

"my lord, please, just help me" you thrust on his fingers a little harder. he hums, occupying himself with your thighs. he refuses to even acknowledge your requests until you've come on his fingers all by yourself. he'll assist you with his finger, but he will not move. 

"please im so tired, my legs hurt" it's true, your knees slightly ache after being over his shoulders for so long. it's manageable, but he doesn't need to know that. yet, he does. he insists you're just fine and continues his fascination with your thighs. his hand that was perched on your hip makes its way up to your chest. he nimble fingers pinch and roll your nipples, feeling the peeks harden in between his fingers. you arch your back up, more wanton moan flowing out of your mouth. 

slowly you feel him dip another finger inside you, stretching you out. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion. you can't take his antagonizing teasing. he wont help you at all. poor thing…

"you're so incompetent. i ask of you to do one thing and all you do is moan and complain about hard it is. can you really not do it? i don't remember you being so selfish…you disappoint me, darling" he clicks his tongue, retreating from your body. your head shoots up, clawing at his robe, pulling him back to your body. you can't disappoint him. no, no... he falls with his back against the headboard, you splayed out on his lap, thighs either side of his. his hands find purchase at your hips again, the thin material of your nightdress hiding nothing from his eyes.his pupils shrink, becoming diamonds. his eyebrow quirks up, surprised by your actions.

"oh? what's this?" he grips your body tighter, pulling you even closer. in the process the drags your bare cunt on his clothed thigh. you jump slightly. a smug smile spreads across his face. you clutch onto his chest, rocking your hips back and forth. you have to prove to him you can do it. it's just so hard. it's just that he does it so well. he makes your brain all fuzzy and you feel so good with him. he's able to find all of your most sensitive spots, he praises you so well. every time he touches you, you can't help but melt into his touch. you want him to touch you again, properly. you did so well yesterday, why can't you do that again? you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"my lord, please," you drag your words on. he simply hums, petting your head. "i promise i'll be good, please don't leave," you pause, gasping for air. pressure builds up in your stomach, making you curl into the man's body. you start to move your hips more erratically and with much more force. "i'll be so good for you, i promise, i promise, i promise" your furrow your brows, promising him your obedience. 

he's used to hearing such mantras from you and from others. obedience is something a god expects, especially one as powerful as him. he understands it can be difficult to help yourself, especially like this, but he sees how quickly you cum. he doesn't understand why you can't do it on your own. he underestimates his effect on your body, the hold he has on your mind. he makes you hot and bothered anytime he leans down slightly to whisper something in your ear. it could be something as innocent as informing you as to whom you must keep the best appearances in front of, or who he does not like. the feelings of his large hands taking purchases on your waist, and the feeling of his breath on your oh-so-sensitive-neck, can get anyone flustered. 

"i won't disappoint you, i promise. i'm so good, all for you, my lord, please see that," your voice strains and you arch into him. you just need a little push. you're so close. his hand migrate from your hip, to your clit. his calloused fingers rubbing circles onto the swollen nub hard. that was the little push you needed. you grip onto him, biting into his fair skin, eliciting a small groan out of him. he sees your muscles tighten, pride swelling in him. he knew you could do it. he hums, satisfied at his handiwork. he lays you in front of him on your back, thighs parted and laid over his. he parts your lips, taking a look at your hole. 

he slips his fingers in again, his thumb finding it's rightful place on your clit. you twitch, your mind still hazy from cumming. you clutch onto his wrist, shaking your head. no, no, no. you open your eyes slightly, looking at him, your face flushed. he picks you up, repositioning you with your head on the pillows. you again find him between your legs, but this time he dives in. his lips latch onto your clit and he sucks. you gasp and twitch in his hold. he pulls back, pulling off the ribbon his robe, tying your wrists together, then to the bedpost. he goes back to eating you out like a mad man.

this time you really are helpless. you can't do anything but allow him to flick his tongue over your clit as much as pleases, allow his fingers to abuse your hole, creaming over his face and wrist as much as pleases. he is a god, after all. what they want will come true. if he intends to keep you here for hours, then he will. 

he  pulls you to the edge numerous times, but refuses to let you cum. he deems you ready to take him. your mind is foggy. all you know is that he stopped his abuse on your cunt. the cold air hits your body, making you twitch. your legs twitch from his ministrations, your thighs are slick with your own cum, his saliva and wetness. you let out a weak moan of his name. he smiles slightly, cupping your face in his hand. he knows your long gone, but your body is aware it's him. you melt into his hand. he presses a kiss against your forehead before sticking his fingers into your mouth. your body already knows what to do. you lick his fingers and slightly bite his fingertips. he pulls them away.

he slowly strokes his cock at the sight below him. your bangs are sticking to your forehead, legs trembling around his hips, tears treading down your pretty face. his hand grips your jaw, parting your lips apart. your tongue lolls out, your pretty head thinking he's going to make you suck his fingers again. instead he spits right into your mouth and you swallow. you let out a little moan after realizing what he had done. he lets out a toothy grin, patting your cheek. 

he wraps his fist around his cock again, positioning himself. he rubs the head against your clit a few times, gathering up your slick. he pushes in slowly, watching your face contort as every inch sinks in between your thighs.

"my lord," you breath, rutting your hips up to meet his. he leans down, grasping onto your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder. he thrusts even deeper, your bodies chest to chest. you whine and moan at the feeling as he nips under your jaw, on your neck. he kisses your pretty lips. he's glad he can make you feel so carefree. he's happy he can make you feel this good. he feels you tighten around him, understanding you're going to cum again. you repeat his name like a mantra along with, "can't, stop, no" but he knows you can. you've done it so many times, you can do it again.

"you're okay pretty thing, i've got you, sweetheart. you can cum again" he talks into your skin, his thumb once again finding purchase on your clit. he rubs and rubs until your mind shatters. you feel yourself clench around him, all of this pressure is at its climax and you let go, cumming all over him. you squirt over his lower abdomen, your thighs, his cock, everywhere. it's a mess, but morax doesn't seem to care. in fact, he's infatuated. he wants to see it again. he rubs your clit even faster, not minding the cute protests spilling out of your mouth and thrusts even harder. 

he lifts your thigh higher. you throw your head back. at this rate, you don't know if you can cum again, but you want it. you need to be good for him. you have to cum, you have to. the seemingly familiar pressure builds up in your stomach again. morax's thrusts seem to get less and less rhythmic. he's close and knows you are too. 

"come on, doll. you're gonna come with me right?" he buries his face in your neck, decorating your neck in red and purple bruises. you nod, you nod at every request of his. you're so good, so good for him. what morax wants, he gets. especially from you. he pushes down on your stomach, thumb flicking at your clit harshly. he's thrusting without any other thought in mind other than he must cum in you. it'd be a crime if he didn't do this. he sucks in a large breath of air and exhales immediately as he feels you clench around his length and cum all over his cock. that pushes him over the edge and he spills his cum all inside you. he kisses your neck, lips, eyes, cheeks, jaw, chest everywhere over and over again.

your body feels limp, you're warm, your limbs hurt. he pulls out. you can feel the weight of the bed shift. he cleans himself and you up. you unties your wrists, kissing the red marks all over them. he pulls you back onto his lap, and lets you lay limp against him as you come back to him. he whispers sweet nothings in your ears. he praises you and your obedience. he kisses the crown of your head and lays you back down besides his body. he reaches over for his tea on the nightstand, but it seems to have gone cold. no matter, he can brew a new one later. he's tired. 

you peer up at his through your lashes. he neatens your hair, pats your head, and then sinks back into bed. morax thinks he should tell his other adepti to take over his work more often. he believes it's important for married couples to enjoy intimate times together. he's even more adamant about it because it's you. it's you who he gets to do things with. it's you he gets to kiss, to hold, you laugh with, to call his partner. it's you, it's always been you.