#attention span. is of course the one that is most noted but even like

[catboyfurina]

my early childhood education class is really driving home the developmental in developmental disability.... like i knew thats what adhd is classified as but they just keep dropping skill after skill that are standard for Small Children that i do not have D:

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[asharasasylum]

Personal Assistant ♡  Aegon Targaryen x Reader

author's note: this is an older fic that has been reworked to the max, meant to be a quick Drabble turned out to be about 4k words. Yeah. I do think @phimbkerthinker originally requested this idea on squirmhoney correct me if I’m wrong but want to give credit where it’s due ❤️ warnings: coercion. blackmail. non con. dub con. smut. oral. abuse of power. praise. mean Aegon turns soft. 18+

AEGON TARGARYEN is the biggest obnoxious prat you’ve ever dealt with in your entire existence. He abuses the power that’s given to him on silver trays, toying it in front of those less fortunate than him just for fun. He’s never worked for anything in his life but revels in everything that he’s inherited from daddy. 

You would know being his personal assistant. 

You do everything for him. Fill out and file all the paperwork he fails to get to, sit in on the meetings and answer questions for him when he seems half bored and you always make sure to send new clients his way before any other rival company manages to get to them first. He’d be lost without you and the company would fall into one of his brothers’ hands. Sometimes you think that’d be for the best, he’s such a lost cause anyway. But you don’t know his brothers like you know him, they could fire you the moment they take over and you can’t lose this job. 

Aegon  knows this. He dangles it in front of your face, the fact you need the money so much. It’s good pay, better than anywhere else is offering, and Aegon knows about your situation. The debt you managed to get yourself in after you trusted the wrong person. You're not stupid, you just didn’t realise all the contracts your ex had been signing you into and how many months these payment plans seemed to span over. With the money you get here, you’re managing to stay afloat in all of it and of course, Aegon  knows all of this. 

It doesn’t stop you from threatening to leave though. Aegon seems to love it when you do this like it’s some sort of little game, one you immediately regret getting yourself into the moment you find yourself standing alone in his office. Sometimes you can’t help it though, everything can manage to pile up on you and Aegon doesn’t make it any easier. He’s like a child, bored and needy of your attention. 

It’s exactly how it happens today. 

The phone has been blowing up non-stop and while you would usually answer it, within three rings, you don’t bother. You’ve already answered twice, only to be met with Aegon ’s annoying whines about how bored he is. It’s not your problem, you try and tell yourself, muting the phone all together. Besides you’re drowning in paperwork he’s too lazy to do, the least he can do is leave you to it. 

Eventually the calls stop and you find yourself going to the toilet, only to return back to a mess that makes your blood boil. The stacks of paper you neatly organised in different piles, are scattered across your desk, some even on the floor. Each one had been coded from most to least important, some even sitting ready for Aegon to sign off on. Getting them all organised again will set you back another hour, and as you look over to the clock you realise there are only two hours left till the end of the day. 

It makes you snap and you twist yourself towards his office where his door is already open. 

Aegon is sitting behind his desk, a few files in his hand that he seems to be scanning over with a grimace before throwing them over his shoulder. His lips twist at the corners as he hears your kitten heels click against the floor, a smug smile fighting its way on his lips. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you huff out, standing on the other side of his desk. You know to keep space between you. “I quit.” 

He looks up from the piece of paper between his fingers before throwing it over his shoulder. Your stomach drops as he eyes you up, taking in your figure in your office attire, making you feel suddenly naked.

“I had everything organised out there and you just go and mess it up,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “I can’t do this anymore. I won’t-I-” 

Your words catch in your throat when he stands up, making slow movements to go around the desk. You step in the opposite direction, backing further away from him as you widen your eyes at him. All the while he’s smirking like the brat he is, narrowing his eyes at you like some sort of prey. 

Like a doe-eyed helpless deer you fall into the trap easily, letting fear take over as you back away from him while also backing away from your only means of escape, the office door. He backs into it, locking the door and leaning back against it. 

“I love it when we play this game,” Aegon says, tilting his head to the side. He’s eyeing you again, only this time he isn’t really checking you out but rather sizing you up. “Do you want me to beg today? Tell you I’ll give you a raise if you stay and let me fuck you or…” He stalks closer to you, taking long steps your way and watching you carefully for any sudden movement on your part. “...would you prefer me to be honest? We both know how badly you need this job, otherwise I don’t think you’d let me get away with half of the things I do to you.” 

He steps around the desk and you take your shot, you go to move the other way round. It’s stupid, he is always watching you and waiting for you to move. He’s faster too, slipping back round the other way and grabbing you before you can make it to the doors. 

“The latter it seems,” he chuckles wickedly, yanking your body around. 

You fight back at first, trying to claw your way out of his grip but you always forget how strong he is even with his slender figure. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asks, finally getting you down onto your knees. “Three weeks, I think.” 

You're teary eyed as you look up at him, blinking away tears as you find yourself easily submitting to this position. 

“Didn’t we agree that I get to have you at least once a week?” He questions, hand working on the button of his trousers. “I think I’m well overdue.” 

You don’t argue, only staring out into the space behind him as you try to get comfortable as possible. 

He’s always quick with it, yanking his pants down to his ankles and boxers just above his knees. His cock, sits right in your face already hard, red at the tip and leaking slightly. 

You don’t want to do this, you tell yourself but what other choice did you really have. Quickly you find yourself kneeling before him, slobbering all over his cock like some stupid dog

You know exactly how he likes it, slow and sensual, your eyes drawn to him as you take him inch by inch into your mouth. It’s how you always start, taking it slow, knowing if you try to rush it immediately he’ll get mad and make it ten times worse for you. It’s all about timing, you remind yourself as you hollow out your cheeks, earning a hiss from Aegon . 

You stroke the parts you can’t fit in, making sure to give his tip personal attention with soft kitten-like licks. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re like this,” he sighs, letting his head roll back and his eyes fall closed for a second. Only for them to open again when you swirl your tongue around his tip, hissing at the sensation. 

This is where you normally speed up, seeing him all fucked out as small moans and sighs fall from his lips. It’s perfect timing, you think, stroking him a bit faster as you try to take more of him into your mouth and suck harder. 

Only today he tilts his head at the sensation and narrows his eyes, almost as if he’s catching onto you. You try not to overthink as you continue but as his lips form into a tight frown and his jaw clenches, you’re sure he’s caught on to your antics. 

Aegon  doesn’t give you time to react, hand sliding into your hair right by your scalp as he grips it tightly, using it as leverage to force you down on him. There’s a twinkle of fucked up amusement in his eyes as he watches you fighting against it, pushing down on his thighs and staring up at with him pathetic wet eyes. He’s not satisfied with you just panicking, not until his cock is slamming against the back of your throat, causing you to gag. 

He finally lets you go, giving you the air to cough and wheeze as you free yourself for him. But he still seems unimpressed, rolling his eyes and yanking your head back as he speaks to you. 

“Too much for you?” He questions, lips drawing into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry.” You immediately apologise, hoping for a tiny bit of mercy. 

“I don’t think you are.” His jaw ticks as he takes you in, clearly thinking of what he wants to do with you.  

You think you hate this part the most, caught in a trap of your own mistake. All you can do is wait for him to decide what he wants to do with you, drawing this whole process out. 

He softens though, using his free hand to play with the string of saliva and precum coating your chin. “Prove to me that you’re sorry.”  

You nod a bit too eagerly, following his direction as he pushes you back down again and wrapping your lips around him. You start to go slow, playing with him in the way he usually likes but he stops you and shakes your head, his hand still latched onto your hair. 

“Open wide.” 

You hold back a whimper, opening your lips as wide as you can and waiting for the onslaught to happen. He doesn’t waste his time, holding your face in place as he uses your mouth as his own personal fleshlight. You learn to breathe through your nose and relax your throat as he fucks your face, trying not to panic each time his tip hits your tonsils. 

“Good girl,” he praises, groaning as he uses you. 

Your jaw is aching at this point, wishing it to be over as he becomes frantic. His hips hit into you and your nose brushes his abdomen with every thrust. You can’t even tell he’s close, not until he’s shooting his load in the back of your throat with a guttural sigh, finally releasing your hair from the restraint of his hands. 

You try not to choke on the sticky substance in your mouth, struggling for a second as a bit of him spills from your lips before you swallow. 

“Pretty girl,” he calls out to you and you look up at him. 

You can feel the fresh tears sitting under your eyes and the drool that coats your chin. You would say you’re anything but pretty. 

But Aegon seems slightly entranced by the sight, trailing his thumb down your chin and swiping the last bit of his cum back into your mouth for you to swallow. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighs out again. 

You wait for his next movements, not knowing what to expect until he’s placing himself back in his pants.  

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and clock out for the day?” Aegon suggests, pulling you up from the floor. 

You hate how gentle he can be as if he hadn’t just forced you to suck him off in his office. It’s strange, throwing you off a bit until you find his hand shifting down over your body, past the small of your back and over your ass. 

He’s such a sleaze. 

“I have things to do,” you tell him, gently trying to pry him off of you. “Paperwork to-” 

“If you stay, I can promise you that you won’t be doing that paperwork,” Aegon tells you, taking a handful of your ass in the process. “Or do you want to stay?” 

“You know what I’m actually feeling super tired,” you tell him, forcing on a fake smile as you slip out of his grip. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He nods, following your frame as you walk back out of the door. “Tomorrow.” 

It’s Friday, one more day of work and you have the weekend. 

You let out a deep exhale as you exit the elevator, the plan you had been going through all night will get you out of here earliest at seven pm, any later and you can take the last pieces home. There aren’t any meetings today and you’re sure after having his fill yesterday, that Aegon would be more than satisfied. It’s Friday after all, he’ll probably finish just before lunch like he usually does. 

It’s all simple, you think. The plan’s already unfolding in front of you as you step towards your desk outside his office. Only to find there’s someone else sitting in it. 

You’ve never noticed this man before. He could possibly work around the office, you wouldn’t know seeing as you’re stuck to your corner of the building throughout the whole day. But you don’t get why he’s here, sitting at your desk and scribbling on your paperwork. 

“Excuse me?” You call out to him, voice barely above a whisper. 

He doesn’t seem to react at first but just as you’re about to clear your throat, he lifts his gaze and says, “He’s waiting for you in his office.” Then he goes back to your paperwork.

This has never happened before and you feel your entire stomach drop, panic flooding your body. He normally deals with your threats quite well, laughing them off or even making threats of his own. But now, you’ve managed to cross the line. You don’t know how but you’ve ticked him off, pushed it too far. 

You step into his office with your eyes brimmed with tears, flooding the surface and threatening to spill. 

He doesn’t even look at you when you step through the doors, only demanding that you close the door after yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, lips trembling as you stand in front of his desk. “I didn’t mean it, please.” 

He looks up instantly at this, lifting his shades to take the sight of you in and he can’t help but furrow his eyebrows. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke on the words, stifling a sob that threatens to break from the back of your throat. “Please, I can’t lose this job.” 

Aegon is up in an instant, circling the desk as his hands grab your shoulders gently. He shakes his head, still giving you that confused daze

“I’ll do anything,” you tell him, hands falling against his broad chest. Tears are spilling from your eyes as your fingers cling onto the material of his shirt. “Please. Literally anything you want. Don’t fire me, please.” 

The tension in his face falls and Aegon almost laughs as he says, “As tempting as that sounds.” He leans in, gaze darkening as he rubs at your upper arms. “And it sounds tempting.” His voice lowers in tone. “I’m not firing you.” 

“You’re not?” You’re in disbelief as you sniffle, body still trembling. 

“No.” His eyes are so focused on you, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek while his thumb trails over your wet skin. “Not at all.” 

You stare up at him with round eyes, not realising how you’re pouting at him until his thumb flicks over your lips. 

“I’ll take that offer though.” His gaze falls on yours as his lips twist into a smirk. “What does anything entail?” 

“Ugh,” you groan, pushing him off of you as you turn away from him. He really doesn’t know when to stop. 

“I’m joking,” he chuckles, coming right up behind you. You try to shrug him off but it's no use when his hands fall over your shoulders. “I just realised how much stress I was putting on you.” His fingers start to dig into the flesh around your shoulders and neck, rubbing at them soothingly and as much as you want to shake them off, you know it's best not to. It also feels good, Aegon ’s thick fingers working at the knots so well that you want to relax into it. “Burying my favourite girl in piles of office work. You need a break.” 

“I should help-” you go to move, forgetting how strong Aegon is as he keeps you in place with just his hands. 

“No,” he commands, continuing his actions as his hands work over your arms now. “They’ve got it all figured out.” 

You’re trying not to slip into his touch with another protest, “But I know where they need to be sent to and how to-” 

“They’ll manage, Y/N.” His voice is stern, a warning as you feel his breath against your ear. “I pay them enough to manage and if they don’t, then they’ll be dealt with.” His fingers slip over your shoulders, rubbing at your collarbone and then your chest. “Relax.” 

You can’t, feeling uneasy as his fingers inch closer to your breasts. 

“Relax or I might consider firing you,” he whispers in your ear, finally slipping his hands over your breasts. 

You do, letting out a shaky breath as you relax back into him. His hands grab at your breasts, kneading them over the material of your blouse. He’s soft with it, taking his delicate time to coax you into his touch. A hum is sitting on the edge of your tongue that manages to spill when he starts to suck on the skin behind your ear.

“Think it’s time I take care of my girl, hmm?” He questions, fingers shifting to unbutton your blouse. 

“I don’t know,” you go to argue. You're in two minds, you don’t want to give in and let him have his way with you but at the time you always fight back to no avail, always ending up underneath him in the end. “Sir-” your hands go to pull him away but he catches them. 

“We’ve talked about this. Call me Aegon,” he tells you, pulling your arms down to your sides before returning to your blouse. “Fight all you want but don’t think I’ll continue to play nice. Besides I think your tattered knees probably need a break or do you want to spend the rest of your work day underneath my desk?” 

“No,” you gasp, feeling his cold hands slip into your open blouse. This is better, you tell yourself. Just let him have his way and it’ll be over with. 

“Let's get you sat up on the desk, pretty girl.” He’s tugging on your waist with one hand, directing you to his desk and lifting you up so you’re sitting on it. There he turns his attention back to your breasts, eyes running over your lacy white bra with a smug grin. “All this for me? You shouldn’t have.” 

You don’t deny him, only biting at your bottom lip when his fingers slip into the top of the bra. 

“Don’t do that,” He tells you, slipping his thumb to free your lip from your teeth. He replaces it with his lips, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss all while using his hands to yank your bra down, freeing your tits in the process. “I’m going to take care of you today, okay?” 

“Yes,” you mumble in response and for the very first time in the two years you’ve known each other, you kiss him back. 

You can tell he’s eager for your acceptance, licking at your lips for them to part and give him access to your mouth. You eventually accept, slipping them open a shallow moan spills from your mouth, his fingers flicking over your nipples and catching you off guard. He notices the way you moan at the smallest touch and he can’t help but repeat it.

“All sensitive here, are we?” He teased, pinching at your nipples. “Like being touched like this, huh?” 

“Yes,” you confess, nodding hesitantly. You’re still cautious of him, still weary of completely losing yourself in this but you start to slip away again as soon as he puts a nipple between his plump lips. “Fuck.” 

You can feel your arousal already and it only seems to grow as Aegon flicks his tongue over your hardened bud, circling it until he starts sucking. He watches you the whole time, grinning into the flesh of your tits as you soft moans roll off your tongue. He switches, giving your other breast the same attention before letting your breast slip out of his mouth. 

Drool sits around his lips as he ducks further down, lifting your hips to shift the edge of your skirt up. You help him, yanking it over your hips, showing your lace panties. 

“Matching set.” Amusement seems laced in his tone as his eyes darken further. “And what’s this?” His thumb prods at the material, pushing into a damp spot where you’ve been leaking. “Look at my pretty girl,” he speaks as if he’s talking to your pussy rather than you. His finger even runs along your folds and dips again into the soaked spot. “She’s all wet and waiting for me.” 

Without warning he presses his lips against you, kissing you over the material and taking a deep sniff before sticking out his tongue. You fall backwards, catching yourself on your elbows as you try to relax, only to strain your neck to continue watching him. 

“Lie back,” he tells you, using his free hand to push your chest. 

You listen, resting your back fully against the wooden desk. While Aegon returns back to you, pushing your panties to the side and gracing your bare pussy with his wet lips. Your toes curl at the sensation and your back arches as he slides a finger into you, taking his time to get you all worked up. 

You can’t help but lift your head, eager to watch him as he laps at your clit. He’s staring at you down there, taking moments to detach himself from you in order to watch how your pussy reacts to his fingers. When he manages to squeeze another one in, stretching you out for him, you clench around him, feeling more slick ooze out of your needy hole. 

You should feel embarrassed, making a mess all over your boss’ desk. The same boss that blackmails your job against you just so he can fuck you. The same boss that is the laziest piece of shit that has you doing all his work for him. You know you should be more than ashamed, and maybe you will be after but as the pressure grows in your stomach and you let out another lewd whimper for more, you don’t. 

“Ohh look at how she’s accepting me so easily today,” Aegon chuckles, slipping a third finger and curling them all inside of you. “Think she’s close. Don’t you, pretty girl?” 

His eyes are looking up at you, smug smirk sitting on his lips as he waits for your answer and all you can do is nod. 

He returns his lips to you, only this time he isn’t as gentle as before. No, he’s making a meal out of it as he sucks at you, switching between that and lapping with his tongue at your sensitive clit. You barely even register you’re doing it as you begin to grind against him, like some sort of possessed beast, desperate for your release. He doesn’t even stop you, taking shallow breaths through his nose as he digs his face further in, pushing you over the edge. 

Your head falls back as you cum, unable to form any words as you whined and moaned for him. Your thighs are shaking around his head, threatening to shut as you have to fight to keep them open. The task only becomes more difficult as you resolve crumbles and your orgasm washes over you. 

You’re a panting mess once he’s finished, unable to string a sentence together as you lie out on his desk. You’re trying not to think, not wanting to slip into the realisation of what you let him do as he removes himself from between your legs. 

Luckily, Aegon doesn’t let you, pulling you up into his chest and holding you to it. 

“Think I need to take my pretty girl home,” he says, brushing your hair before pulling you away from his chest. He cups your face, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “You don’t look so well. All flushed and flustered, hmm?” His eyes soften at your fucked out daze, simply nodding along with him. “Think you’re burning up as well.” 

You wince when he moves back suddenly, your cunt feeling over sensitive as it rubs against his desk and you can’t help but whimper his name. “Aegon.” 

You don’t even pick up on how you drool out his name or the way his eyes light up at the mere sound of it. It still doesn’t totally register as he softly pulls you down, helping you fix your clothes back into place, murmuring about how he’s going to make sure of his sweet girl from now on. 

None of it hits until he’s peppering your face in soft kisses at his apartment, caging you in as he presses your body with his own as he fucks you into his sheets. 

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[azrielstaylorsversion]

To remember

Azriel x reader | Angst

Warnings: death, grieve, murder

When Feyre asks Azriel about a certain ring around his finger, the whole room turns quiet. But none of his family members expect him to reply to the question.

Coming home to my family gathered in the living room of the River House was always going to be my favorite thing.

The last week hadn't been a particular easy one, but I had managed to live through it, like I always would.

Cassian passed me a glass of wine, telling me that I needed it. I knew he meant it as a joke, but his sympathetic smile told me enough.

We didn't really speak about it anymore, since it had been decades. None of us did. But the weight of the ring around my finger of my left hand weighed more than usual this week.

I felt Feyre's eyes on me. When I looked at her she smiled, but I soon noticed that her eyes weren't on my face. No, they were on my hand. My left hand.

She was probably just looking at my scars. Most people did. It did bother me a bit, but with my family it was different.

"Azriel, can I ask you something?" Feyre asked. The entire room turned quiet, everyone's attention on me and Feyre.

"Of course." I answered, even though I was not sure I wanted to answer it.

"I keep noticing the ring on your left hand. You seem to play with it a lot. What does it stand for?"

If the room could've turned even more quiet than before, it would.

Feyre looked around in confusion. "Oh sorry, I-..." Rhys put a hand on her arm.

"Feyre, I don't think-"

"No, it's okay." I cut him off. Rhys looked at me.

You don't have to talk about it. He spoke into my mind.

I gave him a tight mouthed smile. I would rather tell her the story myself. She deserves to know about her.

I knew that I wasn't the only one having a hard time with telling this story. Mor had lost her best friend. Cassian and Rhys had lost their best friend. Even Amren had lost a friend that day, if she could even have friends.

And I lost a mate that day.

Feyre looked at me with curiosity, waiting for me to start talking.

"It belongs-.. belonged to my mate." I told her, my eyes on the beautiful ring.

It was gold with a blue stone inside of it. The color of my siphons, like she had requested.

"I'm sorry." Feyre said quietly.

I gave her a sad smile. "I had it altered so it would fit around my finger. I have my own matching one in my room."

Feyre hesitated before speaking. "When did she... pass away?"

"Around 50 years ago." I answered. "51 years to be exact. Just a few weeks before Rhys went Under the Mountain."

"How long were you two together for?" she asked.

I twisted the ring around my finger, smiling to myself. "For a long time. Close to a century." I thought I might go crazy at some point after losing her while having been together for such a long time. But I didn't eventually.

The first few years were super hard. Even harder since I had lost my mate and brother within the span of a few weeks. I remember Cassian and Mor being helpless all the time, not knowing how to help me from going mad.

I blocked everyone out. I didn't talk or sleep for months.

Eventually I got the courage to go into our old room in the Town House, where we would stay most of the time. I found her ring there. The ring she had purposely left there the day she was killed. She had left it there for me along with a note, telling me that she knew she was going to die. That she wanted me to live a happy life.

Something changed after that day. I immediately took the ring to a jeweler who made it fit my finger so I was able to carry a piece of her with me at all time.

I was able to talk again. To sleep, even though the nightmares haunted me.

"What was she like?" Feyre questioned softly.

I had to keep myself from smiling again. "She was the best. She was kind, smart, hardworking, and always selfless." I told her, adding a sad smile at the end.

The rest of my family smiled at the memory of her.

"The selfless part was one of her best qualities, but also the one that..." I hesitated before speaking. But I wanted to tell Feyre. "That got her killed."

Everyone around the room stiffened, but I decided to continue. Maybe it was time I would say something about it. To tell her story.

"She volunteered to go on a mission for us. To check out the next plans of Hybern. Of Amarantha. She knew that there was going to be a possibility of dying from the moment she volunteered, but decided it was best to not tell us." I started. "She knew that if I knew about it, if Rhys knew about it, we would offer to go ourselfs. But still she decided to go. When the bond closed off I got so worried. At one point I stopped feeling her."

"We got a message from the Hewn City the next day that there had been a body found on their doorsteps. We immediately went to look." I swallowed hard. "I will never forget what I saw." I decided to spare Feyre the details.

I had to blink back the tears at remembering the memories of all those yours ago.

"I'm sorry that happened to you Azriel." Feyre spoke softly.

I sniffed. "Not only to me. She was important to all of us. To many people in this court." I said. "She would've loved you." I smiled at Feyre.

Feyre's face lit up at my words.

Rhys raised his glass. "To our beloved friend." Everyone raised their glasses.

The rest of the night was spent talking about her. Everyone shared their favorite stories about her.

It was late when I finally retreated to my room again. My mind kept wandering to her. I kept twisting the ring around my finger until the weight of sleep took over.

I could've sworn I saw a star shine extra brightly into my room.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part thirteen

authors note: this one is super long, ya'll! i don't necessarily like how long it is, but i couldn't cut it in half because there was no good cutoff point. so, i apologize to the readers with short attention spans! also, the very last part is not known to the characters, it's just context for what's happening....

this chapter takes place on February 2nd, 2024. yes, i'm aligning it with the real life dates of smackdown shows lol.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, smut, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’d forgotten how uncomfortable flights are and how much they irk you.

It's mostly the not being in control that bothers you. You can admit as much. On the jet wasn’t as difficult because you had Joe, and while Alexis is a nice companion, she’s not your man. No one can make you feel as safe and calm as he does.

However, there's some peace in seeing how well Callie is doing on her first flight. Your undercover social butterfly of a child has made friends with the flight crew who have taken her under their wing, allowing her to be a pretend flight attendant for the short flight. 

So her spending time with the flight crew allows you and Alexis time to talk, cause why not distract yourself with a heavy ass conversation while 30,000 feet up in the air? 

Alexis takes a sip of her wine, included with the first class tickets she purchased for the three of you. “Just let me know when you get back to the hotel tonight. I’ll watch Cal Gal for ya’ll.”

Confused, you ask, “why would we need you to watch her?”

She answers so casually, “so y'll can fuck. Duh.”

You sigh…..of course. “Alexis, this trip is not for that. We’re here so Callie can spend time with her daddy.” And that’s the truth. You’re most excited to see Callie’s happiness at being reunited with her dad.

“He’s your daddy too,” she wiggles her brows, and you look away. This heifer is way too much sometimes. “All I’m saying is it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Too long. “I’m not saying I don’t want to. It’s just not a priority, and I’m still not on birth control.” It hasn’t been very high on your to-do list, especially with him being gone as long as he has. But also….there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to get on it, and it’s not because of any health concerns. 

“Tell him to pull out,” she suggests with a shrug, but your face must give it away. “Oh my god, he doesn’t want to, does he?”

Having this conversation on a plane, or at all, probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s something you’ve been thinking about since the night of your date. Even more as you grew closer to being reunited with him. “When we had sex that night, he asked me if I was on birth control.”

“Like, after?”

“No, like as he was literally blowing my back out.”

“Damn,” she mutters. If you know Alexis like you think you do, the ‘damn’ is also because she’s mentally conjuring that image. Freaky ass. Shaking her head, she then asks, “and you told him no, right?”

“Of course, but you know what he said in response?” Blowing out a deep breath, your head falls back against the headrest. “He said good, Alexis.”

Her mouth drops open, and you move to slap your palm over her lips. “Remember, we are on a plane, and my daughter is somewhere in the vicinity.”

This seems to help. A little. Removing your hand, she harshly whispers, “he’s trying to get you pregnant again!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” you answer honestly. “I think—I think it’s more if it happens, he wouldn’t be opposed.” And you believe that. You know Joe. He’s many things, and assertive is near the top of that list. He would straight up tell you if he wanted to get you pregnant…..you think.

She studies you, always so damn perceptive and knowing. “You feel the same way too, don’t you?”

“I don’t—” You can’t finish your sentence, because she’s not entirely wrong. It makes no logical sense for you to even be having this conversation, let alone thinking about this. Having a baby right now is one of the dumbest things you could do. You’re having a hard enough time as it is just finding gaps for Joe to spend time with the child you already have.

But. 

There’s also this side of you that sees where this is headed. You know that your future is with this man. There’s no outcome you can figure where you two don’t end up together, and Alexis wasn’t wrong before she’d asked/reminded you that you want more kids. You want more kids with him. Want to give Callie a sibling. 

Just….not right now.

You can’t even find it in you to tell this man you love him, but you want him to give you another baby? It doesn’t add up. 

There’s a part of you that wonders if it comes from a place of fear. 

For so long, you dreamed and wished for this to happen, for you to be with Joe, to have a future with him. It kept you up at night the fact that it would never be a possibility, but still, you dreamed. And now that all of it is happening, you wonder if there’s fear it could all go away so you’re trying to make the best of it.

Even though, deep down, you know there’s no reality where Joe could be away from Callie. You? Yes, maybe. Though slim to none. But while he loves you, Callie is his soul. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to be with her. 

And that means he’ll always, to some extent, be in your life.

“Maybe.” Is the much shorter versioned answer you settle for. “So, for now, no sex until I figure this out.” Even saying it aloud, you’re not sure you entirely believe it. It’s a nice plan, but plans often change.

Especially when they involve Joe.

Alexis groans. “I love you, babes, but sometimes you’re so damn exhausting. There’s literally nothing to figure out. That man would marry you tomorrow if he could. You just gotta let go of the past, enjoy the present, and work towards the future.” She then adds, “then again, you said the same thing last time about no sex, and that man still fucked you six different ways from Sunday, so who knows.”

As much as you want to protest, you can’t. Your resolve when it comes to Joe, in almost all areas, is embarrassingly weak. 

________

Being backstage is such a blast from the past, so reminiscent of so many years back when you and Mariah were just stoked at the possibility of meeting Cena, unaware of how that one night would change the trajectory of your entire life.

There’s a small part of you saddened at how things have changed so much with Mariah, but that’s an issue for another day. Your focus is on the here and now.

Similarly, Callie seems just as intrigued, but for different reasons. She keeps her hand in yours but her eyes scan around, growing hopeful with each turn of the corner that she’ll be met with the one thing she’s looking for. Or, rather, who she’s looking for.

Alexis somehow arranged a private tour backstage, thus “ditching” you as soon as ya’ll arrived to the arena. However, you also know she believes this is a “personal thing" and doesn’t want to “invade.” You tried to tell her that she was more than welcome, but she wasn’t hearing it. You’re so grateful for all of her support. It means so much to you. 

One of the security guards flanking you and Callie tries to make small conversation, and you’re partially grateful but mostly annoyed. Your anxiety is already on the higher end than you’d like it to be, especially when all you wanted was to remain calm and collected for Callie’s sake. But having someone blabber about something you have no interest in doesn’t do much to help that.

Too bad it’s not a distraction, though, because you’re starting to second guess your decision. It’s a bold move not only coming to Joe's “job,” but bringing Callie too. Not that he’d ever complain or be upset at getting to see her, but not making him aware ahead of time is suddenly seeming like not the best idea. No matter what Jon says.

You know you ultimately had to keep him in the dark, because he’d ask questions as to why, not from suspicion but just natural curiosity. And you don’t want to lie to him. You need to talk to him about Callie, but you want to do so in person. That’s not a phone or even Facetime kind of conversation. 

What if he isn’t ready for you to go “public”? To make Callie’s existence “public”? Sure, you have zero expectation of him letting ya’ll leave backstage, thus making it easy to hide out from cameras, but still, this is his workplace. He deserves some privacy. 

So deep in your head and thoughts, you miss when you turn the final, lucky corner, only to realize when Callie gasps loudly, “daddy!”

She rips her hand from yours, and you briefly panic when she starts running away only to see who she’s running to. 

Joe’s standing there among who you’d guess are WWE execs, clearly in the midst of conversation, when his head snaps in your direction. His eyes immediately land on Callie. He’s briefly confused, but a big smile replaces that confusion as he reaches down to catch Callie. She throws her little body against his, and you watch him stand up with her still in his arms, kissing her cheek and hugging her closely.

You walk over to them, offering a small, apologetic smile to the people now watching with slight puzzlement.

“Callie Bear,” he murmurs, mouth pressed to the top of her head. Your anxiety is already lessening. There’s not an ounce of anger or irritation painted in his handsome features, only an immense amount of appreciation and satisfaction at seeing his little girl. 

“Surprise!” She shouts, smiling broadly. “Mommy said we could come see you since you can’t come see us!”

“And I’m glad you did,” he murmurs. “I missed you, baby girl.” She lays her head against his chest, obviously having missed him just as much. His eyes then land on you as you finally reach the duo. Your smile is small, even as he reaches and pulls you against his free side, stealing a quick kiss. “I missed you too, mama.”

His words do something so warm and fuzzy to your insides. “We figured if you couldn’t make it to us, we’d come to you.” Relief is so heavy over you. You’re pretty sure you’ve just given Joe one of the best surprises he could ever receive. You look over at the people still awkwardly standing by and then to him. “I’m sorry, did she interr—”

“No.” He seems almost insulted that you would even ask such a thing. He directs to them, “later.”

Without protest, they disperse, walking away. It’s so interesting seeing how much he’s grown since you first met him. Back then he was young, still trying to prove himself. Now he’s the literal face of the company. It starts and ends with him. 

“I was on a plane!” Callie informs with that award winning smile. “I’ve never been on a plane before!”

“You haven’t?” It’s difficult to tell if he’s feigning surprise for the sake of engaging her on her level or genuinely can’t believe she’s never flown before. “Were you scared?”

She shakes her head. “It was lotsa fun!”

Joe chuckles and kisses her cheek. “That’s my brave girl.”

She giggles as he tickles her stomach. “I saw clouds! Ooh and birdies! And the nice flight lady gave me cookies cause she said I was a good girl!” As Callie starts to ramble and catch Joe up on a second by second play of the plane ride, he gives you a pat on the hip and directs you to walk with him. His arm around your waist, the other holding up Callie, you can’t deny how natural this feels, the three of you.

Joe takes you to his locker room which is as nice as you would expect it to be for the guy in WWE. You take your seat in the single chair, allowing Callie and Joe to take the sofa even though she’s barely next to him for five minutes before climbing into his lap and pulling out her tablet to show him what she’s made in some of her apps.

You pull your phone out and see that you have a few unread texts, the one from Alexis making you laugh aloud.

Alexis: Would you still love me if I fucked Logan Paul?

Shaking your head, you type out a response. 

You: yes. just a little less.

Alexis: It’s just an appetizer. I plan to leave with the number of someone from that damn Bloodline tonight. Tell BDJ to hook me up.

You: would you please stop calling him that? 😭

Alexis: I’ll stop when it stops being true 🤷🏽‍♀️

You: you’re a menace.

Alexis: Stop texting me and focus on your man.

You: he’s in callie world right now, which is exactly where he should be. i keep telling you this trip was for her. 

Alexis: It can be for you too if you stop being stupid and start by telling him, I don’t know, THAT YOU LOVE HIM. 

You: goodbye, alexis 🙄

Alexis: I’m about to fuck this white boy anyway, but you know I’m right!!!

Alexis: I hope he doesn’t have fleas.

It takes everything in you not to scream. This girl is really crazy. Switching threads, you text your mom.

You: we made it here. she’s so happy. 🥺 he is too. i’m glad i took her.

Opening up the camera app, you sneak and snap a photo of the two of them. Reviewing it makes your heart swell. Callie is clearly deep in explanation while Joe holds her, partially following her discussion but mostly just enraptured in having her with him. 

You send the photo to your mom who responds almost immediately. 

Mom: Awww. I’m glad you did too. Enjoy yourself, baby. Take lots of pictures. ♥️

“Oooh!” Callie’s semi-loud exclamation pulls you away from the text thread. “Look what mommy got me!” Callie hops off Joe’s lap and spins around, moving her hair to the side to show off the back of her hoodie.

Naturally, you move your eyes to Joe, watching closely and carefully as he travels through a variety of emotions: shock, happiness, love. He’s clearly moved. A warm smile sets on your face. “I love it, baby.” He finally speaks, the emotion undeniable in his voice. Joe’s gaze sets on you, and you don’t need him to say anything to know what he’s thinking.

Mouthing ‘you’re welcome’, you settle back into the sofa, watching as Callie returns to her spot in his lap to finish catching him up on all the things he’s missed in his long absence.  

You occupy yourself on your phone, catching up on some work emails and parent messages because it doesn’t seem to matter how many different ways you make them aware of an absence, they’re still going to message you like you didn’t let them know you’d be out of office for the next few days.

Sometimes you can’t tell much of a difference between your students and their parents. They’re both equally out of touch.

At some point, Callie moves to the middle of the floor to empty out her backpack that you still don’t know just how she managed to pack as much as she did in. She seemed hellbent on bringing all of these items, mostly artsy things, to share with Joe. And you didn’t want to stop her, so you let it be. 

However, you end up catching Joe’s eye, and he motions you to come over to him. But, being the brat you are, you take your time doing so. And of course, because everything about this man is large, it’s nothing for him to reach his long arms out to tug you in front of him. His hands are on your hips, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the placement appropriate for the sake of Callie. 

“You’re quiet,” he observes, discerning you.

Shugging, you answer honestly, “I want you to have your time with Callie. She’s really missed you.” One thing you’re most definitely not looking forward to is the discussion regarding the real reason for this surprise trip. You already know it’s going to make Joe feel awful, and that’s not the goal. You just don’t want to keep anything else from him as it pertains to Callie. He doesn’t deserve that.

“And what about you?” He asks, suddenly, “Did you miss me?”

Chuckling, you brush your fingers against his soft hair, pulled back in his go-to bun. “I always miss you, Joe.” The delivery is much more gentle than intended, albeit entirely true. Pre-Callie and Post-Callie, maybe even moreso now, Joe’s extended absences affected you in various ways. Being around him right now is making you more aware of just how much, even as your brain jumps to how nice it’ll be to not sleep alone tonight. That was something you always loved about Joe when he came to visit years back, how he would always bring you against his hard body, strong arms securing you. You always slept the best when he was in town. 

Of course, this is way too vulnerable of a conversation to have with your daughter present, so you change subjects. “But, I also wanted to see Cody Rhodes, cause you know I’m team finish the story,” you tease, giggling at his instant scowl. It’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie. Cody is cool, but you’re Team Roman (Joe) all day every day. Still, it’s in your nature to stir up trouble and pick with him. 

“Dick rider,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear but low enough for Callie not to. 

Smirking, you lean down to whisper in his ear. “Naw, baby, that’s for you and you only.” 

Trying to move away is a fruitless effort because he yanks you onto his lap, your thighs over his legs as he murmurs against your earlobe. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“Mommy, I wanna sit there.” Callie’s jealous voice suddenly enters the conversation, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at her pout. She’s so possessive. “He’s my daddy, not yours.”

You gasp quietly when he squeezes your ass, forcing you to climb off him. “You’re very right, Callie Bear.” Moving back to your chair, you taunt, “he’s not my daddy.”

It’s hilarious watching Joe control himself for the sake of Callie, but his expression tells you everything you need to know. If not for her presence, he’d have you bent over, taking every inch of his thick dick as he reminds you just who you belong to.

The image shouldn’t excite you as much as it does.

Sure enough, Callie climbs her little self back onto the sofa and back onto Joe’s lap, but the sound of an almost rhythmic knock at his door draws the attention of all three of you. However, before Joe can respond, the door is swung open, and based upon the lack of consent, you expect to see Alexis. Instead, you’re met with a different set of folks. 

“Come in,” Joe says sarcastically, and you glare, standing up to greet them. 

“Whassup, Y/N? Long time, no see, girl.” Jon’s introduction is so typical and expected, but it still makes you laugh. He’s always been a hoot to be around. 

“Good to see you, Jon.” He hugs you, and you turn to Josh who’s also wearing a friendly grin.

“Lil hurt you ain’t hit me up to help you with the surprise.” He sucks his teeth but still hugs you, as you shake your head.

“I thought you’d be on Raw,” you answer. It’s the truth, even if who exactly helped you make this happen didn’t matter as much as ensuring it did in fact happen.

“That why you been acting weird?” Joe’s voice enters the conversation. “You knew?”

“We both knew,” Joshua answers as you give Jon a look. 

He asks, “what?”

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms, “I told you not to tell nobody!”

“I didn’t! It’s just Josh.” He shrugs, and you can only shake your head. There’s a reason these two are so popular in the WWE. A lot of their promos could be ripped from real life interactions. 

“Y/N!” Trinity's gorgeous smile is the first thing you notice followed by her surprise introduction, even before her colorful gear that you’ve always been so amazed by as she rushes over to you. She stretches her arm, “it’s so good to see you again!” Smiling, you accept her hug, tight and genuine. In the few interactions you’d had with her, she was also so kind and friendly. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed.

“It’s good to see you too, Trin.” You mean it. She's just a genuinely chill person.

Looking over to Callie, you see she’s still sitting on Joe’s lap, holding onto his hoodie, obviously trying to read the room full of strangers. Jon must notice this too as he looks her way as well, giving her that warm smile.

“And this….” He starts walking toward her, crouching down in front of the sofa. “---this must be the famous Ms. Callie.”

A small chuckle leaves your mouth watching her suddenly “hide” her face in Joe’s side, as one eye is still peaked open. 

You whisper over to the group, “don’t let her fool you. She’s shy at first, but then she won’t be quiet.” It’s a conversation so similar to Callie’s first meeting with Joe which feels so long ago now. 

Joe’s also clearly a bit amused at her sudden shyness and goes to introduce them. “Callie, these are my cousins, Jon and Josh.” She looks up with a quizzical expression and motions with her hand for him to lean down. He does so, and she whispers something in his ear. His smile grows as he answers, “they are.” Looking still a bit skeptical, she waves her hand again. Take two. He dips his head, and she whispers something else. Again, he answers, “yup.” At this, she gasps and jumps off the sofa, running over to you. 

Callie hugs your legs and “whispers” to you with all of the excitement, “mommy, they’re my cousins too! I have cousins!” 

It takes a lot out of you not to get emotional in this moment. She’s so damn happy at this news, at finding out she has more family. You lean down and push back some of her loose curls. “You surely do, baby.”

Finally pleased with the confirmation, she turns around and beams at the twins and Trinity, “hi! I’m Callie!”

There’s a chorus of laughter as Trinity speaks this time, “it’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

“You’re pretty,” Callie compliments, and Trin places a hand over her chest, clearly touched by her kindness. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet,” she awes as Josh joins in, introducing himself as Callie stares at him for a second.

“You’re a twin,” she says it like this is the first time he’s ever heard as such or even realized as such. 

Josh does a good job going along with it, nodding and smiling. “I sure am.”

Callie suddenly turns to you. “Mommy, how come I don’t have a twin?”

“Because Jesus loved mommy enough not to do that to me.” Childbirth is equally horrific as it is beautiful, and while you’re forever grateful for your sweet child, you’ll never forget that pain. Pushing her out was torture. You can’t even begin to imagine having to do it twice, back to back. 

Twins….never.

Josh suddenly chimes before Callie can present a follow-up question. “I have a little girl who’s a couple years older than you, and I can’t wait for ya’ll to meet.”

She gasps loudly. “I have more cousins?”

Jon sucks his teeth and answers, “Girl, you got so many cousins, you might meet em’ all before you turn 18.”

Her jaw drops. “I'll be really old then!”

Shaking your head, you start to counter her when Joe speaks up, calling her name.

“You have another cousin here tonight, baby girl.” There’s a second of confusion, but you realize he must be talking about Solo Sikoa. You hadn’t met him, as he came onto the scene after you and Joe separated. But as you told Joe, he’s free to introduce you to any and all family. You want this for your little girl. It’s obvious just from her reaction to the twins and Trin, she wants it as well. “Do you wanna meet him?”

It’s a no brainer, Callie nodding furiously as she runs to jump back on the sofa, sitting next to Joe.

He laughs at her enthusiasm and then calls out, “come in.” It’s loud enough for whoever is on the other side of the door to do so, and while you expect to see the final member of the bloodline enter the space, you’re thoroughly and shockingly surprised to see that you are very wrong.

Because through the door aren't the footsteps and subsequent entrance of Solo Sikoa.

It’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. 

While you’re in a semi state of shock, Callie is in a pure state of unadulterated delirium, and it’s entirely expected given she knows this man as something else. 

Someone else.

“Maui!” 

The entire room erupts in laughter as Callie rushes to stand in front of Dwayne who gets down on one knee to be more eye to eye with her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

Joe also moves closer and bends down, hand on Callie’s back. “Calista, this is my cousin, Dwayne, so that means he’s yo—”

“Maui is my cousin!” 

This little girl is damn near screaming, but it’s so hard to tell her to quiet down when you’re pretty sure this may be the single most happiest moment of her life.

Next to finding out Joe is her dad, of course.

Once your own shock wears off, you pull your phone out to snap a few photos, almost wishing you knew ahead of time The freaking Rock was going to be present tonight. You also would have tried to make yourself look a little more presentable, especially when Joe introduces you to his cousin as well. 

And of course because you’re the one who starts taking pictures, it’s only a matter of time before you’re dragged into a few of your own. It’s an easy pass, as you feel entirely underdressed with your all black one piece, long cardigan, and boots, having dressed comfortably for traveling. Not photo-ops. 

But, it’s when Callie pouts and says so sweetly, all the innocence in the world, “but we’re a family” that it actually hits you for the first time. 

You, Joe, Callie….you don’t just feel like a family. You are one. 

So you push aside your vanity and swallow back the tears to partake in a slate of photos involving everyone to just you, Callie, and Joe to even just a couple of you and Joe. Your favorites are most definitely the ones with the three of you, especially one where Joe sits you down on his left leg and Callie on his right. He squeezes your side, forcing a squeal and laugh that makes Callie laugh as well, creating such an organic, beautiful moment between the three of you.

A family.

—-----------

The night keeps on bringing more and more surprises, the latest one being the fact that instead of hiding out backstage, you, Alexis, and Callie are seated ringside in the VIP section with other family members and close friends of the wrestlers. 

It’s…..definitely not what you expected. You’re not opposed, especially since Callie was thrilled to learn she’d be much closer to Joe out here than she would from the back, but it’s just not what you were expecting.

It’s so…..public.

“How long does it take someone to walk out like da—”

“Alexis!” You scold her, even if you slightly agree. It’s not that you’re not enjoying yourself. You are. You just would much rather see your man, and you know Callie feels the same way. Every so often she’ll lift her head from her tablet, hoping to see Joe only to be disappointed.

You tried to tell her that as soon as she hears his music, he’ll come out, but that was nearly 45 minutes ago. A part of you wishes you could have found somewhere backstage to hide out as Joe and the others eventually had to leave to cut a promo.

So while Alexis' delivery is slightly off, she has somewhat of a valid point.

Rolling her eyes, she looks your way, asking. “Can you text him and tell him to hurry up?” 

Shaking your head, you answer with just as much sass and sarcasm. “Yes, I’ll get right on—”

And that’s when you hear it. 

“Oh shit,” Alexis pulls out her phone, instantly starting to record because this whole trip apparently needs to be memorialized with photo and video. Not that you’re entirely or in any way opposed. This is Callie’s first time at one of her dad’s shows. It’s special and should be documented in one way or another. 

Looking to your side, you see her tablet is on the empty seat next to her, and she’s reaching for you to pick her up so she can see better. 

Quickly obliging, you hike her on your hip and laugh at her excited expression. Her eyes are scanning all over for him, so you direct her to where he should be walking out any minute. 

“I wonder whose music that is,” Alexis teases, and you turn with Callie to face the phone that’s capturing this moment. 

Callie answers proudly. “My daddy’s!”

You and Lex laugh at her excitement that grows exponentially when Joe finally walks out, flanked by his cousins and Paul. 

“There he is!” She points, and you smile, kissing her cheek. This is all so worth it, the pure joy and glee on her face. You follow her line of vision, focusing on the Tribal Chief himself.

Damn. 

Joe is one fine ass man. That’s it. That’s the tweet. But when he’s in his Roman role? That confidence, that swagger……everything sexy about him is amped up times ten. You may have to rethink your stance on no sex for this trip.

It feels almost criminal to be around this man and not ride him until you can’t no more.

The naughty thoughts are temporarily pushed away when you notice Callie is nodding her head to Joe’s entrance music. Laughing, you and Alexis join in. Lex is still recording, and you’re actually happy she is because she gets it on camera when Callie throws up the one to ‘acknowledge' him. Your heart swells. There’s something about that moment that’s so precious to you, to see how connected she feels with him. How closely they’ve bonded. How much she loves him. And even more, how much he loves her.

As they near the ring, you notice how Joe branches off from them, and you assume it’s because of whatever this promo entails. But, you quickly realize it’s because he’s headed toward you. There’s this brief sense of panic on your end, meanwhile Callie gasps in excitement and reaches for him. Joe hugs her and kisses her temple. Touched at the gesture, you look at her only for Joe to take you by equal surprise when he grabs your chin and kisses you as well. 

What…..the…..hell?

You’re not upset, just genuinely surprised that he would be so openly affectionate with you, maybe not Callie as much, but definitely you. So….public. You’re certain that your face is painted in shock the whole time, but it’s when he heads into the ring that you and Alexis share a look, Callie too focused on her daddy to notice anything else.

“Girl, if you don’t tell that man you love him, I’m gonna tell him for you.” She could be joking. She could be serious. You never really know with Alexis. “Because he literally just acknowledged you in front of all these people.”

There’s still a part of you that’s having difficulty processing what just happened. You were worried that Joe would feel some type of way about you and Callie coming to his job, just staying backstage, but this man really has you both ringside and broke character just to show you and Callie affection. 

If there was ever any doubt in your mind regarding his feelings for you, tonight has completely demolished it.

Alexis is right.

You need to tell him. 

And you need to tell him tonight.

________

As much excitement as the day has brought, you knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to your still very young child. Joe’s segment with The Rock ended up being the closing promo, which worked out great because Callie started to doze off a bit right around that time. And when you’re finally able to reunite with Joe backstage, she’s all but sleeping in your arms. 

In having to buckle and unbuckle her in her car seat for the travel to the hotel, she stirs a bit, but as soon as you arrive and Joe removes her from the car seat, the end of the travels, you know she’s out for the night. 

He carries her into the hotel room and walks her into the main bedroom while you place the bag you have for both her and yourself near the “living room” area. Joe insisted he could handle both the luggage and Callie, but you insisted that he instead focus on your little girl.

You also take a moment to take in that this is an actual hotel room instead of an apartment. There are literally two bedrooms separated by doors and all and two bathrooms, both of which rival the size of Callie’s bedroom. 

It’s definitely not your local motel from back home.

Joe walks back in, no Callie in sight. “She is knocked out.”

“I knew she would tap out eventually. She’s been up all day, refused to nap.” He walks over to you, hands on your hips as he tugs you close. Your hands move to his chest. “She was too excited to see you.”

“Thank you, by the way,” he murmurs. “For bringing her.” 

You chew on your bottom lip. “I almost didn’t. I—I didn’t know if you’d be upset I didn’t ask you first.”

His furrowed brows tell you that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Why would I be upset?”

You shrug, suddenly unsure of yourself, which is such a foreign feeling. Confident is always a word you’d use to describe yourself, but in this moment, having this discussion, it’s not as applicable. “I guess….I guess I wasn’t too sure if you’d want people knowing about me.” Your voice softens. “About Callie.” 

And it’s true. It’s one thing for Joe to be out in public with Callie back home, but it’s an entirely different thing to be out in public in his world.

Granted, his public display of affection tonight should have squashed that concern. 

Just your implication alone seems to be a dagger to his chest. Joe brings his hands to your face and speaks with such confidence and conviction. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed of us, and I’m damn sure not ashamed of my daughter. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Do I want to do an exclusive interview about us? Hell no. But, that’s because my personal life is nobody’s business but my own. I’m not hiding your or our daughter from anyone in my personal life, not my friends, not my family, and not the WWE.” 

For a second, you feel bad for making him have to defend himself so staunchly, have to explain himself. It’s not necessary. 

Not after he so openly acknowledged you and Callie tonight. 

“I believe you,” you respond quietly. You move your hands up and down his chest in an effort to settle him. “I know you’re not ashamed. I’m sorry.” Remembering the video from earlier, you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. Locating it takes a matter of seconds. “I figured you’d like this.” You hit play and angle the phone so he can see, a massive smile growing on his handsome face. It’s like you can feel the tension melt away when he lays eyes on Callie. 

Similar to yourself, he seems especially moved by Callie’s “acknowledgment.” You lay your head against his chest, whispering, “she really does love you, ya know.”

Just like her mama.

Video finished, you bite on your bottom lip, an idea crossing your mind. Such weak resolve indeed. “You know, she sleeps heavy…..very heavy.” His eyes narrow, intrigued by where you’re giving. Smirking to yourself, you head toward the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath in that nice big tub that could totally fit two people.”

In what seems like inhuman speed, Joe is in front of you, hand coming down on your ass. Hard. “Joe!”

“Get your ass naked. Now.” ________

His head is in the crook of your neck, lips pressing gentle kisses against the wet skin of your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, hands on top of his that rest under the water on your stomach. 

“I always miss you too,” he murmurs against you, a nod to the brief conversation from earlier. Eyes closing, you rest your head back against his shoulder. 

This moment is perfect, and you hate to ruin that, to take away from it. But, you also promised yourself that you would be honest with him, especially when it comes to Callie. 

Turning around in the water, you straddle him, legs on either side of his large body. Before he can take your change in position to mean something else, you bring your hands to his face. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

You’re certain he can tell by your tone that whatever it is is serious. “Tell me.”

Fuck. This is harder than you thought it would be. “I wanted to see you, yes, but Callie….Callie needed to come see you.” You can tell he has questions, so you move straight into it, not wanting to delay the inevitable. “She’s been…she’s been different.” He sits up, fully immersed in the conversation. “Not bad, just….she’s been irritable with me at times. Even her teacher said something. You don’t see it, because she’s fine when she talks to you, even after. But when she can’t talk to you….” You shake your head. “I talked to my mom about it, because I was thinking she’s finally feeling whatever I caused when I ran off that night, but….that’s not it.” 

You made the executive decision to not tell him, however, about her drawing or how she cried into your chest because she missed him so much and couldn't understand why he hadn’t come back to see her. This already must be hard for him to hear. There’s no need to throw salt on the wound. 

You know the full truth would crush him.

“So then I talked to her.” You lower your hands to his broad shoulders, massaging them soothingly, voice softening as you finally tell him, “---and she told me she’s been sad because she misses you.”

You see it. The moment his heart drops. He’s crushed, eyes averting downward. His guilt is almost palpable. 

“Please don’t do that.” Voice gentle, you bring your hands back to his face, urging him to meet your loving gaze. “You have done such an amazing job stepping into the father role, and it shows in how much she loves you. You go above and beyond for her. She just can’t grasp what it is you do because she’s too young to do so, but I talked with my principal, and I’ve got the time to take off, so I’m gonna take it. I’ll bring her to you.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s not an issue. Especially since summer will be here before we know it. I’m off then too, so we can make that work. We will make this work, because she’s our daughter, and that’s what parents do.” Your words are partially penetrating, that much is obvious, so you continue. “I really didn’t want to say anything, because I knew you would feel bad, and you absolutely shouldn’t, but I also don’t want to keep anything from you, especially when it’s about Callie. You’re her father. You have a right to know.”

“It’s why you didn’t tell me you were bringing her, because you knew I’d ask,” he puts two and two together. You’re not surprised. Joe’s always been annoyingly perspicacious and insightful. “Thank you…for telling me.”

Kissing his forehead, you remind him, “Calista loves you, Joe. Whether you’re in town or not. You could be doing a show on fucking Mars, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. She loves you.” You lick your lips, voice unintentionally light and soft. “And so do I.” It’s not a planned admission, not anything scheduled, just an honest, organic confession.

His gaze is on you, no longer as despondent but replaced with something more akin to surprise. 

“I’ve always loved you.” You bring your palm to his cheek, his beard prickling against your skin. “The only reason I told you to leave was because I loved you, because it was too hard to be in love with you and not really be with you. And after all this time, I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.” 

It's the truth. In the time he'd been absent from your life, you absolutely could have found someone and moved on. Maybe even settled down, but you couldn't. Because your heart was still with him.

You're pretty certain your heart will always be with him.

“That was my fault,” he acknowledges in a low voice. “I never told you what you meant to me, never took the steps to make you mine. Officially. And I was wrong for that, Y/N. Dead wrong. You always deserved better.”

Gaze softening, you murmur, “I always knew you were married, Joe. You never hid that from me.”

He shakes his head. “But I never—”

“It doesn’t matter—” it’s not entirely true. It does matter to you, you still want and maybe even have some degree of right to know just what the deal was with his marriage, why it took so long for him to divorce his ex-wife. However, at this moment, you don’t care about any of that. This isn’t about that. “I love you, and you love me. That…..that’s what matters.”

He looks like he still has more to say but is being respectful of what you want right now. So he asserts, “you’re with me now.”

“I’m with you now,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I’m with you always.”

Joe sits up, water pushing towards the other side of the tub. “You love me.” It’s more of a statement than a question, like he’s always known as such but was patiently waiting for you to openly admit to such. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Your lips connect for a kiss, passionate, hot, sensual, greedy. His hands are on your back, holding you close, your breast pressed against his chest. 

Your mouth parts when he moves his hand to your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he plants wet kisses down your jawline. “Let me make love to you.” His lips are fire against your wet skin, and you can’t bring yourself to answer with his hands roaming your body under the water, fingers parting your folds.

All you can do is nod eagerly. Joe surprises you when he ensures your legs are locked around him, standing up like you weigh next to nothing. Bodies dripping with water doesn’t make a difference to him as he walks you into the empty bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, and lays you down on the bed. 

“Baby, we’re all wet,” you point out, not that it changes anything. He’s hot and hard against your thigh, and you feel yourself subconsciously inching down to take him in. “We ca—ahhh.” Your fingers scrape down his chest as he sinks into you. You’ll never get over the feeling of him inside you, the equally painful as it is pleasurable stretch.

“Joe….”

His head is in the crook of your neck. “It’s always been you.” His hands go to your legs, your thighs, spreading them further, deepening his reach. “Always.” 

He pins your hands above your head, by your wrists and you writhe under him. His pace is slow and intentional. This isn’t about either of you getting off, it’s so much more, much more deeper, meaningful. 

“You’ve always been my home.” But, it’s when he says that, so beautiful and vulnerable, that any remaining resolve you had shatters. Tugging on his grip, he loosens his hold and your hands push lightly on his chest. You give enough pressure for him to recognize you’re trying to switch positions. In seconds, he’s on his back with you on top, lips connected with his for a sensual kiss, your hands intertwining again above the pillow as you ride him.

You break the kiss, unable to keep in your moan. He feels so good inside you like this, and you lean back, moving your hips in slow, methodical circles. You know he loves you like this, riding him, breast bouncing as he meets your thrusts. Joe's hand moves up your stomach to your breast giving a deliciously tight squeeze.

“God, I love you,” you whimper, feeling your release building up. It never takes long with Joe. He’s master of your body and all the ways to bring you to a mewling mess.

You’re taken back when he sits up, tugging you closer, his dick hitting a different, even better spot. He kisses you again, more sloppy, just as passionate. And you moan into his mouth as his big hands plant on your hips, controlling your movements.

“Fuck, Joe.”

“Say it again,” he directs, and you’re momentarily confused why he instructs, “tell me you love me, baby.”

“I love you.” It’s probably one of the easiest things you’ve ever done as your fingers lock in his hair, your head back as he licks up the nape of your neck. “I love you so much.”

Your words seem to send him over the edge as well, his mouth latching onto your nipple as he says against your inflamed skin, “let me come in you.”

That feels like a layered request, like he’s asking two questions in one, not that it makes a massive difference.

The answer is the same either way.

This man has your entire heart and soul, and you’ll give him whatever he asks for. Whatever. 

Your finger knots in his scalp as you yank his head back, forcing him to look at you, “only if you come with me.”

His response is to switch positions again, this time laying you on your side as he fucks you from behind. His hand is planted on your belly, fingers spread and splayed as he talks you through it, carrying you into that wonderland of bliss and euphoria. Your hands scrape against the sheets as your orgasm rocks your entire body, and Joe follows shortly after, emptying his entire seed inside of you. 

Bodies wet and spent, his mouth is still on your back as he breathes into your skin, “I love you….”

Chewing on your lip and moving onto your back, your gaze is on him, loving and content. “I love you, too….”

________

You and Joe take separate showers, a mutual agreement as you both know together would just result in another round. Not that either of you are wholly objected, but you also need to be available for your daughter should she wake up for some reason. Not very likely, but just the chance alone is enough to stay on the safe side.

As Callie is conveniently sleeping in the middle of the bed, you and Joe slide in on opposite sides. Interestingly enough, not even a few minutes pass before Callie stirs in her sleep and moves on her side, facing Joe. It’s heartwarming how he gently caresses her forehead, just watching her sleep. 

“I’ve been thinking.” He makes a sound acknowledging your statement, but his eyes are focused on Callie. You know he’s taking in this moment, recognizing that in a matter of hours he’ll have to leave. That he won’t see her again for another almost two weeks. “What if we moved?”

At that, his eyes lift up, so you explain, “My mom is actually the one who brought it up. I didn’t see or understand it then, but I’m starting to get it now. You come to my place, Callie and I can come to see you here, but….we don’t have a place that’s ours.”

If this trip has shown you anything, it’s the importance of togetherness. Callie is most happy when you’re all together. She’s thrilled to be with Joe, but she’s most elated when it’s the three of you. You understand what your mom was trying to say. Callie wants family. She wants the three of you to be a family, and while there’s a lot of things that are untraditional about your dynamic, there are still paths to normalcy.

And one of those paths include having a home that belongs to the three of you, not just you or him, but a space for us.

“You would do that?” It’s hard for you to tell if his voice is so soft because he’s trying to avoid disturbing Callie or he’s deeply moved by your suggestion. Maybe both.

“Of course.” It’s an easy answer, especially when it comes to what’s best for your daughter. “I can teach anywhere. I have my mom and a few cousins, but that’s it. Almost your entire family is in Florida. You saw how easily she connected and bonded with your family. I want her to have that, and she can’t if we stay in my town. I told you before….she wants to be with you, and so do I.” 

You spent so long wanting and dreaming of having that, you’re entirely done with running and overthinking. It’s done nothing but keep you from being with the man you love and want to do life with. It’s time to focus on now and embrace the future.

A future that includes your family. 

“I’ll have my manager find us a realtor.” 

There’s something so exciting and pleasing about this, most likely that it’s the first step of establishing your future with this man. You’re not sure the last time you felt such peace. 

Yawning, you realize that while you feel exhausted, he must be drained. “Goodnight, Joe.” 

Turning on your back, he wishes you a goodnight and anything else after that is lost to the drowsiness that precedes sleep. 

But, it’s a sleep that doesn’t last as long as you’d like.

Having Callie has made you a lighter sleeper in general, so when Joe gets up and out of the bed, needing to get ready to leave, you’re up shortly after him. You don’t get out of the bed, just move so that Callie is right next to you. You know once he’s gone, she’ll be right under you, so might as well get a head start. 

And it happens much sooner than you’d like it to, Joe on the side of the bed, crouched down, as he goes to wake her up. 

It’s something he was entirely against until you told him that in talking to Callie, she made you promise that he'd wake up to tell her bye. She didn’t want him to leave without getting a chance to say goodbye. 

So, he respects that.

“Callie…” You can see he still hates this, hates all of it. You feel it too. It’s not enjoyable having to see these two separated when it’s obvious how close they are. At the end of the day, you get to go home with Callie. He doesn't. “Baby, wake up.”

Helping him out, you give her shoulder a little shake. “Calista, come on, baby, daddy’s gotta go.”

She’s so much like her dad, a heavy sleeper, but finally she stirs, eyes blinking open. And as soon as she sees him, she also knows what time it is. She sits up and rubs at her eyes, moving to hug him. 

“Bye.” Her soft, sleepy voice is both precious and heartbreaking, for a lot of reasons. You try to remind yourself though that she’s bound to be ecstatic when you and Joe break the news to her that you’ll all be moving in together. It’s just a matter of getting through this rough patch.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He kisses her temple and just as you predicted, she tucks herself into your side, readying to go back to sleep. Joe brings his palm to your cheek, “I love you too.”

Smiling warmly, you murmur, “I know....I love you too.” Easiest hello and hardest goodbye has always been such a cliched, overused, corny ass saying to you, but in this moment, you feel it wholeheartedly. “I’ll text you when we get back home.”

He nods, clearly pleased with this. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

That’s the silver lining. There won’t be as much of a stretch of time that passes between the time you get to see him again. And this pleases you as you give him one last smile before laying back down and dreaming of a future that isn’t as far out as you once believed.

It may be just around the corner. 

________

Meanwhile in the Social Media-Verse…..

TRENDING THREADS

#1: R0m@n Re!gns new gf?

Original Poster: Sooooo. I was on Twitter being nosy, and people who attended the Smackdown show tonight are saying that RR stopped during his entrance to hug and kiss some woman and child sitting ringside. Can’t find any photos or video yet but will come back and add any that I find. Anyone got the tea?

Post #1: I thought he got divorced? I could have sworn I saw an article months about that.

Post #2: I saw the tweets too! Someone asked if it was his ex, but the wwe fanboys are saying the woman was too “fat” to be the ex-wife.

Post #3: That’s so interesting, cause I was watching live tonight (from home because broke bitch status) and the camera randomly cut to the commentators which felt like a strange move given Roman’s entrance is so iconic. I wonder if that’s when it happened.

Post #4: Ain’t nobody got no video or nothing? Didn’t happen. That’s not even aligned with his heel portrayal.

Post #5: @Post#4: He broke character clearly…..

Post #6: Omg yes!!! I was there tonight with my friend, and while we weren’t super close, it definitely happened. That wasn’t his ex-wife. Even from a distance, we could see that. And she’s not fat either, just curvy. Super pretty too. Like stunning. And yes, she’s black. 

Post #7: I just saw someone on Twitter who claims to have been sitting near them say the little girl called him ‘daddy’ 😲

Post #8: I thought he didn’t have any kids??? Harpo who dis woman????? 

Post #9: Damn, it must be serious if he acknowledging her while on the clock and playing daddy to her kid. Our man is taken taken, ya’ll. 😪

Post#10: This is wild. I just googled his name plus the word wife and came across like one picture from years back where she attended some charity event with him. I wonder what their marriage was like cause homegirl never went nowhere with this man.

Post #11: A lot of ya’ll must be new because the tea was spilled years ago in a legendary DR thread that he cheats. Apparently the wife did too. Seemed like an open marriage, Will and Jada type shit, just a lot more private and secretive.

Post #12: @Post11: I am new lol What was the DR? I need to know for…..research purposes.

Post #13: @Post12: Lol. Homegirl said he’s packing, the stroke game is immaculate, and that he’s a eater…..had her damn near speaking in tongues, going up yonder. So whoever this woman is….she’s winning in life. 

Post #14: @Post10 That is so true omg. There’s like nothing there. I know he’s very private but damn sis you can’t make at least an annual appearance????

Post #15: That was his whore (mistress) turned girlfriend and the kid is (allegedly) his. She sucked and fucked her way to that “acknowledgement.”

Post #16: @Post15: Whaaaattttt? You sound like you have tea, sis? Care to spill. 👀

Post #17: @Post16: The truth will come out soon enough.

[ilguna]

If you are willing to do another haymitch could I please get #6 from list one? Thank you

☼ beneath the surface (Haymitch Abernathy) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, drinking mention, haymitch gets a concussion.

wc; 3.3k

prompt; 6. to outsiders, it looks like they don't get along at all.

notes; there's a 14 year age gap...

--

There is nothing more sickening than watching the roped-off section at the front of the stage begin to fill with young faces. Each year, you promise yourself that you’re going to show up a little later to the reaping to avoid the unavoidable nausea, but the restlessness gets the better of you.

So, you always get the displeasure of sitting on the stage and seeing every face, wondering which two will be the unlucky chosen ones. You used to be one of them almost ten years ago. You were just a face in the crowd of hundreds in the eighteen-year-old section in District Twelve.

You see a reflection of yourself in the older kids the most. The fleeting innocence, the fear, the determination, the hope that you’ll make it through one more year. All for it to be crushed in the span of thirty minutes.

The odds should’ve been in your favor—you never put your name in more times in exchange for Tessera. Which means that in a glass bowl that contained thousands of paper slips, only seven of them had your name written across them in clean handwriting. And still, you were picked.

The terror that took over your body in that moment still frequently returns itself to you. As your life flashed before your eyes, you remembered the amount of Career wins in recent years. And all the District Twelve tributes that never made it to the final ten. How this was going to be your fate in a short week.

Fortunately, it wasn’t. By some miracle, you managed to break a curse on District Twelve that had lasted fifteen years. The same curse that had a fifty year run before Haymitch Abernathy won the Quarter Quell. Not that it matters, because it’s beginning to build up again, anyway.

It’s nothing that you can help. 

Which sounds awful, and you’re acutely aware of that, but you’ve tried every trick in the book. You’ve taken advice from other mentors, you’ve listened to Haymitch’s experience, you’ve used ideas that come to you in the middle of the night. The truth is that District Twelve is doomed.

It’s hard being a mentor, knowing that your efforts don’t really make a difference in your tribute’s survival unless they’re willing to try. It’s so rare to come across them. The tributes nowadays default to the idea that they’re going to die, which isn’t necessarily true. 

Of course, they were born in this black vortex, but they can crawl out of it. It’s been done twice, by Haymitch and then by you. When you try to explain to them exactly what they have to do, they realize how much energy it’ll take. And because you don’t sugarcoat the fact that they probably won’t even catch the attention of the Capitol despite your steps, they don’t bother to continue.

It’s like they want the attention, the sponsors, the good scores and the alliances handed to them on a platter. Which is such a ridiculous concept, because when has a single person from District Twelve ever been handed those opportunities? You can’t figure out where they got this fantasy from.

Regardless, it always ends up going the same way. They let the Capitol week play out the same way it has for years, ultimately screwing them over. They put in no effort for the Tribute Parade, they don’t bother with the Training Center, and they end with low scores. It’s always by then where they come to their senses, because there’s a day before the interview, where there’s one-on-one coaching. 

Due to you asking questions on their angle, their plan, what they’re willing to reveal to Caesar and the Capitol, it gets the gears turning. They realize that they’ve made a mistake, and they rely on you to fix it, but it’s always too late. You can’t come back from just a single interview.

As much as you try to help the tributes that come through, you’ve begun to slack. In the past, you jumped on them as soon as they got on the train. It was the best way to maximize their time with you, getting them a head-start, preparing them for what’s to come. Now, you observe them, and come to your own conclusions on whether or not they’ll listen to what you have to say.

Recently, you’ve been calling it the Haymitch spiral. This is exactly how he must’ve felt for the first few beginning years of mentoring, until the shine wore off and he realized that this is a rigged game. You were lucky enough to get him while he was still semi-sober, and your win even set him back on track for a couple more years.

It didn’t last long, though. He was gone by the time the Sixty-Seventh Hunger Games came around. For the first time, you were on your own to figure things out. The tributes made it farther than you thought they would under your guidance, and when you remarked to Haymitch that with his help, they could’ve made it, he brushed you off. 

A part of you despises him for this, for throwing away every tribute that comes in his direction. For rubbing it in your face afterward because you tried to make a difference. It takes everything in you not to shove it all back onto him sometimes. All you’d have to say is, “No wonder we’ve lost dozens of teenagers, they had you to help them.”

You know that if you did ever say that, then he’d shut down. Which you can’t afford him to do. There's moments of clarity where he’ll help, telling the tributes factors that you didn’t even think of. But these times are so few and far between that they hold practically no worth.

As much as you’ve learned to love and appreciate Haymitch, you truly hope that you never end up like him. That you lose so much hope and self-control that you end up with a drinking problem and blurry memories for the rest of your life. It’s your worst nightmare.

As the time nears two o’clock, the flow of teenagers go from a slow trickle to a steady flow. They shuffle into their designated areas, choosing the spots where they’ll be hidden the most from the cameras. From the prying eyes of the Capitol.

You reach up to brush a dribble of sweat from your forehead. If there’s one day out of the year that you can count on being uncomfortable, it’s reaping day. The dry heat has been particularly torturous this year. It makes you look forward to being on the train, at least it’s air conditioned. 

As if activated by your movement, Effie Trinket leans in your direction, the gentle pink curls of her wig tickling the side of your face, so that she can whisper without alerting Mayor Undersee. “Where is Haymitch?”

Your face twists, moving away from her to get some space between you, allowing you to see the look on her face, which has been painted white this afternoon. You scratch your skin to make the feeling go away. 

“He couldn’t even pull himself out of bed this morning. I just left him there.” You whisper, eyes sliding away, to the crowded streets, wondering if you’ll be able to spot him. “He managed to leave the neighborhood at the same time I did, if I had to guess…” You trail off, looking in the direction of the Hob, where the white liquor is sold for cheap. 

“Again?” She asks incredulously, as if the idea is outrageous when you’re talking about Haymitch. It’s not the first time that he’s shown up to the reaping drunk, but if he doesn’t come soon, he’ll be late. Which will be a first for him. “You need to find him.”

You shrug. “And do what, Effie?” You look at Mayor Undersee, “Excuse me, what time is it?”

He raises his eyebrows, flipping up his wrist to look at the watch. His eyebrows draw in, “I’d say five minutes to two.”

Effie’s eyes have widened. “We’ll get in trouble, (Y/n).”

“It’s not like I can get up and look for him.” You throw your hands up, they slap the top of your knees when they land. 

Effie presses her lips together, unhappy with your indifference. Neither of you speak for the remaining five minutes, which you spend hoping that Haymitch will appear out of thin air. When the clock strikes two, Mayor Undersee gets to his feet, heading for the podium. He can’t wait for Haymitch.

He begins to read the history of Panem, which is done every year at the reaping. He talks about the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, and the seas that claimed hundreds of miles of land. A war was fought to claim what was left of it, with the result being Panem.

A Capitol surrounded by thirteen districts, that was supposed to bring peace and prosperity to its residents. It was gone when the Dark Days came, the districts rebelling against the Capitol. Out of the thirteen districts, only twelve survived. The Treaty of Treason was written up to guarantee peace, the Hunger Games being part of the new law.

“It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks.” Mayor Undersee says. “District Twelve has had three victors in its time of existence. An unknown woman, Haymitch Abernathy, and (Y/n) (L/n).”

A voice shouts something slurred and unintelligible. You glance over to see if the Peacekeepers are reacting, when you find that it’s Haymitch, struggling to get up the stairs safely. You sit up in your seat, watching as he stumbles across the stage, drunk.

The crowd applauds like they’re supposed to after the announcement of the victors. A sloppy smile crosses Haymitch’s face, as he falls into the empty chair beside you. The smell of liquor burns your nose, making your face twist as you go to look away.

Haymitch reaches over, a hand on your cheek as he directs his face to yours. You place your hand over his mouth, shaking your head, disturbed. “Will you pull yourself together?”

“May I introduce District Twelve’s wonderful Capitol escort, Effie Trinket?” The mayor asks, trying to save the moment.

Effie gets to her feet, straightening out her spring green suit. She heads for the podium, while Mayor Undersee comes back to the row of chairs with wide eyes in your direction. As if he’s asking for you to get a handle of Haymitch. You’re not his babysitter—you’re hardly even his girlfriend. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t want to listen to you.

“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!” Effie bubbles, tilting her head.

You should be past the point of fixing Haymitch’s behavior, especially since what you say goes in one ear and out the other. This might be your breaking point, with him showing up late and drunk and then embarrassing you. It’s fine if he doesn’t want to be taken seriously with the Capitol, but you’re still trying to be a good mentor.

“It is such an honor to be here today.” She says, placing a white-gloved hand over her chest, as if she’s being sincere. “It’s always such a pleasure being here in District Twelve, seeing all of your lovely faces.” She takes in a breath. “Ladies first!”

She crosses the stage to go to the glass ball with the girls’ names. She stops in front of it, reaching inside, digging her hand deep into the thousands of slips of paper. She pulls one out from the bottom, making her way back to the podium.

The square has fallen completely silent. She opens the piece of paper, reads it to herself silently, before looking up to the teenagers that are presented in front of her. 

“Primrose Everdeen.”

A girl materializes out of the twelve-year-old section at the very back. You sigh, sinking in your chair. The crowd gathered around begins to talk amongst themselves happily, which is common when a tribute so young is picked. No one thinks it’s fair, not even the ones that illegally bet.

Primrose is pale, hands clenched in fists at her sides, taking small steps toward the stage. She makes it past the sixteen section, before there’s an objection. “Prim!” A cry cuts through the silence. “Prim!” 

You watch as an older girl makes her way through the crowd, as the teenagers part to let her free. Primrose is just reaching the first step when the older one moves her away. “I volunteer!” She gasps. “I volunteer as tribute!”

You sit upright in your chair again, looking at Mayor Undersee. He’s got a deep crease between his eyebrows, eyes slightly squinted, staring ahead, thinking. District Twelve never gets volunteers, it’s likely been decades since it last happened. In other districts, teenagers fight to be the tributes that year.

“Lovely!” Effie chirps. “But I believe there’s a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…” She’s lost confidence in herself.

“What does it matter?” The mayor says, face grave. “What does it matter? Let her come forward.”

Primrose is beginning to scream, latching onto the volunteer. “No, Katniss! No! You can’t go!”

“Prim, let go.” Katniss says harshly, trying to pry Primrose’s arms off. “Let go!”

A male slips out of the eighteen section, coming for the both of them. He grabs onto Primrose, pulling her into his arms, where she begins to trash violently. He says something to Katniss, before walking to the end of the aisle, where a crying mother has a hand over her mouth.

“Well, bravo!” Effie gushes. “That’s the spirit of the Games! What’s your name?”

Katniss has made it onto the stage. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don’t want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!”

Silence.

As no one claps, no one moves. This is typical, what you’d expect from your home district. If people were to listen to Effie and applaud, then that means they approve of what is happening here. Which is far from what they believe. 

It’s like this for several seconds, before you see the movement. It’s just one person at first, and then it ripples across the square. As your people press the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips before raising it in the air. A gesture that is rarely used, primarily seen at funerals. 

It’s a thanks, it’s a sign of admiration, and it means goodbye to someone that you loved.

Haymitch has risen from his seat, you swipe at his hand to pull him back into his seat, but he’s surprisingly agile. He makes it across the stage, where he throws an arm around Katniss’s shoulder. “Look at her. Look at this one!” He shouts. “I like her!” He stares, “Lots of…” He tilts his head back, as if looking to the clouds for inspiration. “Spunk!” He suddenly says. “More than you!” He moves toward the edge of the stage. You almost get to your feet, because that’s a bad idea for the state he’s in, but you refuse to be dragged down, too. “More than you!” He points directly into the camera.

He doesn’t realize that the stage ends, you know this because he walks right off the front of it. You bury your face in your hands, shaking your head. By the time you lift it, they’ve taken him away on a stretcher, clearly unconscious.

“What an exciting day!” Effie’s voice is wavering. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our boy tribute!” She quickly moves to the boy bowl, where she plucks the top slip out, hurrying back to the podium. She opens the paper, not stopping to read this time. “Peeta Mellark.”

A boy from the sixteen area comes out. A competitor, you think, but you’ve thought the same in the past. You watch as he comes to stand on the other side of Effie. She asks for volunteers, but when none steps forward, Effie and Mayor Undersee trade places again. He begins to read the Treaty of Treason, but you’re leaning over to speak to Effie.

“Are they going to take Haymitch to the train?”

“I believe so.” She places her hands on her knees. “They’ll probably dispose of him in his bed.”

“Dispose.” You echo. 

When Mayor Undersee finishes his speech, he motions for Peeta and Katniss to shake hands. When they’re done, the anthem of Panem plays in full. Then, they’re taken through the front of the Justice Building by the Peacekeepers. You get up from where you’d been sitting.

Mayor Undersee comes to join you and Effie, where he places a hand on your shoulder. “He’s likely inside of the building in the far back.”

“Of the Justice Building?” You ask, looking at Effie. “They didn’t just take him to the train?”

“We don’t have the cars to spare. We have one for you and him, and then we have the separate one for Effie and the tributes.”

“Right.” You smooth out your pants. “Will you bring us to him?”

Mayor Undersee nods, heading inside of the Justice Building. You glance back at the front of the stage to see that the crowd is slowly dispersing, the Peacekeepers shut the doors a moment later. You’re brought all the way to the back, where the mayor leaves you to figure it out.

You open the door, stepping inside, finding Haymitch sitting upright on a bed. Usually the ones the school nurse provided in her office for when you felt sick. His face is twisted, touching a tender spot on the side of his head.

“Are you fucking kidding?” You cross your arms. “What was going through your head to think that it was okay to show up drunk?”

“I lost track of time.” Haymitch says.

“I don’t care that you were late! You were drunk on stage! This is a televised event, Haymitch.” 

“I know that.”

You shake your head. “Then you should know that this will not be happening again. You’re done drinking.” 

He scoffs. “Am I? Who’s going to stop me?”

“Me!” You shout. “Did you even see what happened out there? We have a volunteer that must mean something to the people here. And a boy that looks like he could maybe come from District Two.”

“Wow.” Haymitch mutters, he’s still drunk. 

“You will not be doing this in the Capitol. I will not let you be this way in the Capitol, I want you to actually mentor, not your shotty half-ass work. We have a real shot.”

“We have a real shot.” He mocks your voice. “You call my mentoring shotty and half-assed when you can’t even give them sound advice. You’re too worried about how you look for the cameras. I have my head screwed on straight.”

“Are you seriously calling me Capitol-obsessed right now?” Your voice drops.

Haymitch squints at you, possibly realizing his mistake. And then he opens his mouth, “Well you are, aren’t you?”

The room is tense, Effie clears her throat. “Maybe you two shouldn’t be together if you don’t like each other.” She says quietly. 

“No, I like Haymitch.” You scoff, waving your hand. “In fact, I love him.” Haymitch blinks in surprise. “But I would equally love the idea of him being sober for once in the Capitol. It’s not easy for all of us, you know. You think I like sitting through this every year while you get to have a drink?”

Haymitch sighs, head hanging slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m tired of the apologies, too. Unless you’re going to do something to fix it, don’t bother.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[xanasaurusrex]

Bonjour! May I ask, my dear, for Dionysus cabin? Amazing therapists, I think they’d be. Not sure though. Thank you so much hand, obviously, feel free to decline!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ dionysus cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ

bonjour my dear! thank you so much for requesting! mr. d is one of my favorite characters, so i'm really excited to do these.

i think the first and biggest thing i should mention about dionysus kids is: they know how to party.

i mean, their dad is literally the god of wine

of course they're gonna be the definition of party animals

wherever there's a party, they're always the life of it

they're rarely ever the ones to start the party because they tend to be rather scatterbrained and don't have the attention span to plan a party, but they love attending them

they love attending parties

dionysus kids are the definition of heavyweights

it takes a lot to get them drunk

like they can get buzzed and tipsy or whatever but it takes a lot for them to become actually drunk

they know how to have fun sober, though, trust me

dionysus kids are very festive souls

they love holidays, any holidays, and go above and beyond decorating for them and getting everyone and themselves in the real feel of the holiday

they love halloween because you can go all out for decorations

they love christmas for the same reason

a random thing to note; dionysus kids have a special affinity for grape flavored things

grape flavored candy, grape flavored drinks, you name it, and dionysus kids are all over it

they also love fruit

their dad is the god of fruit and orchards, so they're a big fan of it

of course, grapes are their favorite

dionysus kids really love raisins, too

they're just dried grapes, so they find the flavor pleasant enough

there are definitely dionysus kids who don't love raisins, but most dionysus kids will eat them if there's nothing else to snack on

this is one of those things that everybody else in camp judges them for, but they get to enjoy raisins with each other so it's okay

dionysus is also the god of vegetation, so dionysus kids also tend to like veggies more than the average kid

dionysus kids like veggies as toddlers, which is a big sign to them being a dionysus kid

like, they'll even devour broccoli

anyways

another thing about dionysus kids is that they generally have a pretty good relationship with their dad

he is the camp director, so they see him a lot more than the average half-blood sees their godly parent, but dionysus also generally builds relationships with his kids, so they get close, and they have good relationships

dionysus also doesn't like having lots of kids, he doesn't like being too outnumbered, so there's never too many dionysus kids in the cabin at once

this makes it easier for him to create lasting relationships and makes it easier to bond with them individually

i know mr. d was kinda an asshole to percy but i do headcanon him as a pretty good dad

because there's not usually an abundance of dionysus kids that also means that they get really close with each other

dionysus kids are each other's ride or dies

they consider each other their best friends

there's never usually more than 4 in the cabin at once so it's like a little friend group, except you all have the same dad!

so fun fact

dionysus is also the god of insanity and ritual madness

this does come across in dionysus kids, unfortunately

dionysus kids can go fucking insane sometimes

please, please please please, i beg of you

never cheat on a dionysus kid

think carrie underwood, but like times a thousand

all dionysus kids know before he cheats by heart because they've sung it at the top of their lungs in their cars after getting cheated on for the first time

and then they've gotten revenge

it's never pretty

i can't legally go into the details (aka i'm too tired to come up with the details) but please never do it

if not for the sake of the dionysus kid heart you're breaking but for your own

dionysus kids are also generally really gifted actors

dionysus is the god of theatre, and since he has a passion for it, he likes to pass that passion down to his kids

there's a sort of drama club within camp half-blood

(founded by dionysus kids and heavily supported by the camp director of course)

they like to put on shakespeare because it's very greek tragedy-esque, but usually without the actual greek tragedy

also whenever there's a sword fight, it's easy to perform and choreograph because they're already being trained in swordsmanship, so they already have that skill (or at least know how to handle a sword without decapitating themselves)

dionysus kids like to think shakespeare was a dionysus kid

mr. d will neither confirm nor deny

(but the glint in his eyes whenever you bring it up leans more towards the affirmative)

randomly going back to them being heavyweights thing, even if they do get drunk, it's rare for a dionysus kid to get a hangover

which is something they endlessly brag about to other campers

"oh, it's weird that i eat raisins? well, i don't get hangovers so suck it"

dionysus kids also have a hilarious sense of humor

like these kids are really funny

their sense of humor consists of a lot of sarcasm and teasing and stuff like that

they can be really annoying as older siblings and younger siblings

a lot of "why are you hitting yourself? why are you hitting yourself?" copying, and other stuff like that

basically, dionysus kids are super cool and crazy and chaotic, but they're hard not to love

it's also pretty nice being friends with a dionysus kid because they can get you out of trouble with their dad if what you did was pretty mild and they ask really nicely

they're also just so freaking fun at parties that it's so nice having them around

consider yourself lucky if you're a friend of a dionysus kid

so it's 2:30 am and i have to be up at 9 but i got inspired by this and i want to start pumping these out faster, so here you are! dionysus cabin headcanons. i hope you liked them, i had so much freaking fun writing these! thank you so much for reading, please reblog, i love you all so much! muah!!

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 11 🍒 "I Was Made for Lovin' You"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 5,067

Summary: you and Joel head to a quiet lakeside cabin for a romantic weekend.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), fluff, oral (m&f receiving), masturbation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, pet names ('daddy' for Joel, 'babygirl' for reader), protected piv sex (super important guys, always wrap it), first time, romance, idiots in love

Author’s notes: This is it! What we've been waiting for! (🎵Tonight is the night/when 2 become 1🎶) Also: Joel is a KISS fan and you cannot change my mind. He's got such a Dad list of music he'd like to listen to during the Main Event. This was originally one LOOONNNGGG chapter that I chopped in two because 5K, wow, my attention span could never.

Series Masterlist

Joel showed you pictures of the cabin in the lake a couple days before you were to leave. It looked rustic yet romantic - just the kind of place he would take you for your first getaway together.

"You really booked it for us?" you'd asked, touched by the gesture. Though you trusted Joel, part of you expected to be let down, simply because you were used to it.

"Didn't I say you could trust me?" he'd said, a little twinkle in his eye as he lifted your chin to give you a soft kiss.

Now it's Friday morning. By the end of the day you will be a new person, or so you hype yourself for what will happen with Joel. He's been insistent that nothing needs to happen this weekend if you aren't quite ready. But when you look at him in the most commonplace of moments and you see the way his eyes scrunch up so adorably when he laughs, or the way he licks his lips right after kissing you, as if to savor your taste; the feel of his beard gently scratching your inner thighs, and you can't imagine sharing yourself with anyone else.

The sun is barely rising in the sky, casting a pale blue light on all it touches. You remember as a kid, waking up early to get ready to leave on a long car trip. That same sense of expectation, of adventure, is heavy in the air.

Joel picks you up in his truck out front. Sofia is home and you risk the chance that she'll spot you from her window, but all is still. The world is quiet. Even the Adlers next door to Joel are likely still asleep. Everything about this morning is giving you the green light. Go. The world is yours.

You put your travel bag in the back, next to Joel's, and you spot a guitar case as well. When you get in the passenger seat you greet him with a kiss and he hands you a Dunkin' Donuts coffee. "The competition?" you narrow your eyes at him. "Rude. But I'll take it."

"This weekend is all about tryin' new things," he says with a barely-contained grin. "With respect to your boundaries, of course."

"I hold all the cards, Joel." You smirk, putting on your seat belt.

"That you do, sweetheart, that you do."

A little more awake after the first sip of coffee you motion to the backseat. "Is that your guitar?"

"Yeah, I play now and then."

"I've literally never seen you with it. You could have serenaded me at any time these past few weeks."

"I regret that I haven't done so, and I promise to do just that. I'll sing below your bedroom window at midnight and hope and pray that you'll give me some of your attention, maybe even let me in if your cousin's not home," he teases.

You drive west, away from the rising sun, towards skies that just barely lighten as you pass. The radio's on but the music doesn't register. You're just soaking up this time with him, his hand on your lap while his eyes focus on the road.

"About that.. So, Tommy and Sofia.." you start.

Joel chuckles. "Yeah, that really came outta left field."

"He never let on to you about it?"

"Nope. But I guess it's been kinda obvious in hindsight."

"Do you think we've been obvious?"

Joel frowns a little in thought. It's one of the expressions you love about him. "Nah, I don't think so. People probably think you're at my house for Sarah, which isn't far from the truth."

Sarah, who's become the link between you and Joel. There are times you feel really bad about using her as an excuse, and you have to wonder how much she knows, if she's caught on to what exactly is going on between her friend and her father. She's at Tommy's this weekend, while you and Joel have made your separate alibis. With so many secrets you speculate the possibility of all of them spilling out one day. Then you look at Joel, the way the morning light casts its rays on his handsome profile, and you know that if there's ever a fallout it will be worth it for him.

"I brought some music for us," he says, producing a CD in a clear case. "I thought you might like a little playlist for tonight, something to set the mood."

"That's so sweet," you give him a peck on the cheek and check out the label, handwritten in Joel's small, all-caps scribble.

You blush as you read the titles, knowing most of them already, and skimming through the rest, love songs from even before Joel's time. "A pretty comprehensive list," you compliment. "You put all this together for me?"

He blushes too. "Sarah helped me find the songs and burn 'em onto the CD."

You giggle. "She had to be weirded out. What does she think you're up to?"

"She probably thinks I'm seein' someone, and she'd definitely be right." His hand squeezes your thigh.

You smile. "Let's have a preview. I've only heard of a few of these." Some of these are your dad's favorites, so of course Joel would like them too. You put thoughts of your father out of your mind and put in the CD, setting it to play at random.

You lace your fingers with his on your lap as KISS starts to play, a bass-heavy rock with passionate lyrics about lovers who are made for each other, and the euphemisms are not lost on you. "You would pick out a bunch of rock anthems," you tease him, moving your hand to his thighs.

He smiles and is quiet for a moment, half-listening to the music with you. "Y'know, I've been thinkin'.."

"About what?"

He sips the dregs of his coffee and clears his throat. "It's a long stretch of road until we get to another town."

"You want me to drive this next half? I don't mind."

Joel chuckles, admiring your naivete. "I was thinkin' you might make this drive more interesting for us." He boldly places your hand on his cock, already hard inside his jeans.

"Joel.." you're partly shocked, though admittedly you're already wet at the thought of going down on him as he's driving.

"That's the only thing I'll ask of you all weekend, I swear," he says, and god damn it, he uses those puppy dog eyes on you.

"Do you think I need that much persuasion?" You massage his erection through his jeans and he hisses in expectation. He shifts his hips and after some careful maneuvering his fly bis open, and your head is in his lap, mouth wrapped around his substantial cock. With one hand Joel pushes your hair back, allowing himself a view of his length going in and out of your mouth. Hearing his grunts and groans turns you on and you desperately thrust your fingers inside you to alleviate your need. This sends Joel over the edge and you feel the twitch of his cock before his warm cum shoots at the back of your throat. You stroke him until he's released every drop, and he strokes your hair lovingly. "That's my girl, sucking up every god damn drop. Now finish what you started," he says, glancing at your shorts as you pull away. "Make yourself cum for me."

"Right now?" you ask in disbelief, licking his saltiness from your lips.

"Right now, babygirl," he says in that deep, husky voice that kindles a fire deep inside you. You scoot back to the passenger side so he can view you better and even though his eyes only flit to you every few seconds, your hand slips under your shorts and into your panties. You tease yourself into a frenzy, wishing it was Joel's fingers instead of your own, but getting the job done nonetheless.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, licking his lips as his eyes go from the road to you.

"Not as good as when you do it," you moan.

"Oh, babygirl," he whispers.

Your fingers rub over your clit in a flurry of movements. The sheer danger of what you're both doing is intoxicating. The breeze blows through the open window, lifting your strands of hair as you skillfully bring yourself to climax. Joel thinks he's never seen a prettier sight, this image of you is burned into his brain, etched onto his heart. When you're done he grabs your hand and licks your fingers. "You're always makin' a mess ford Daddy to clean up, aren't ya?"

"How else am I gonna get your attention?" you tease him.

"You're impossible," he shakes his head and you take the wheel a moment as he starts to carefully put himself away and zip up. You've elicited the dopiest grin from him.

"I won't be impossible after tonight," you counter with a sly smile.

The cabin on the lake is just as picturesque as in the brochure, like something out of a movie, quaint and rustic, with a wooden pier leading out to the lake. "I love it," you tell him excitedly.

"I hoped you would." He smiles at you and puts your belongings inside, insisting you don't need to lift a finger. Inside it's cozy, bucolic. The only room that stays in your memory is the bedroom - boasting a king size bed with a quilted coverlet and the furniture made of cherry, or so Joel tells you. The craftsman in him is impressed with the workmanship, but when you stretch out on the bed to test its comfort and sturdiness, his thoughts turn carnal. "You don't know how fuckin' hot you are, do ya? Or maybe you do and you're just gettin' my blood boilin' on purpose.."

"Whatever do you mean?" you playfully lounge on the bed, posing provocatively.

He growls and practically pounces on you. "You're lucky I have patience, babygirl. Besides, I gotta make a little trip out to get groceries and some other things we might need."

"But we just got here.." you do your best to give what you think is a sexy pout.

"I know," he rumbles. "But I have a surprise in store and I'd rather you didn't see it."

You're thrilled to see what kind of surprise Joel has in mind for tonight. You give him one more kiss. "I guess I'll just lay here waiting for you to return.. building up a fantasy about you in my head."

He chuckles and gives you another quick kiss. "I'll try not to be gone too long. Be good."

After he leaves you change into your swimsuit and grab a towel. It's in the high 90s today. The sun is brilliant in the cloudless sky. It's essentially a perfect day, as if the universe knows it's your last day as a virgin.

You spray yourself with sunscreen, vowing to get Joel to help you with this chore the next time, and lay out on the deck upon the towel. The lake is quiet but for the faraway sounds of a boat. The neighbors are scarce and it's highly unlikely you'll run into anyone during your stay. A gentle breeze blows across the lake, cooling you off a bit. Smiling, you put on your sunglasses and drift off to a nice nap.

You dream of Joel, of his head between your legs, his tongue tickling your clit. You sigh and pull him closer.

"You taste so good, babygirl," he murmurs. "But I thought you were gonna wait on that bed for me."

Giggling, you open your eyes to see that Joel really is there, eating you out while you're laying out on the deck. You're too turned on to protest, sitting upon your elbows to watch as he delicately moves the bottom of your swimsuit to rasp his tongue along your slit.

"Joel.. here?" you find the breath to say.

His eyes flicker up to yours, smiling before he licks another stripe up your crease, ending at your clit which he suctions between his lips, making you arch up, fingers tangled in his hair. "You taste like sunshine and coconut," he says, avidly tasting you.

Your veins are liquid fire, your entire being pulsing with sensualism. In fact you barely register the sounds of a boat passing by, and when you turn your head to the side it's too late to hide. A small group of people on board start whooping and hollering, shouting lewd encouragement as they pass. You glance between your thighs to see Joel's face quite red, and he flips them the middle finger, nonetheless persisting in his pleasurable task. "They can't see us from that far, babygirl," he assures you. "They don't know who we are."

It's hard for you to explain that you like it, that people's eyes on you in such a private moment is quite a turn on. You press yourself against his mouth and he readily accepts, filling you with his tongue, caressing it over your pussy, the tip of his nose nudging your clit before he fully takes you into his mouth and holds down your thighs as you quiver and shake, your sweet sounds filling his ears as your sweet juices fill his mouth.

After, he carefully cleans you up with the towel and rearranges your swimsuit bottom. He does all this with a care that seems to melt your heart. The boat with its passengers is long gone, as if you'd dreamt it.

At the cabin you both rinse off and freshen up for dinner. Joel treats you to to a meal of grilled steak, baked potato and salad. After laying in the sun so long you've grown hungry and as you see the feast laid before you, you're impressed.

"This all looks amazing, Joel," your mouth waters. "You really did all this for me?"

He pulls out a chair for you. "This weekend is all about you," he says, voice full of love. You can't keep a smile off your face throughout the entire meal. No one's ever made you feel this special before. Everything is delicious, and when you compliment Joel on his culinary prowess he just blushes and says it's no big deal, but it's evident he's pleased by your reaction.

The moment is surreal as you hold hands over the table, both of you thinking of the next move. You gaze at him, head resting on your hand. "We've been very honest and open with each other and I think that bodes really well for our relationship.. so can I ask.." you turn bright red. "Obviously tonight will be my first time, but.. when was the last time you.. you know?"

He smiles a little, looking thoughtful. "Probably a few months ago. March or April. She wasn't anyone special," he feels compelled to tell you.

You nod. "Okay. What about your first time? What was that like?"

This time his smile is genuine and you can tell he's remembering something meaningful. "Well, I was fifteen. She was the same age. We sort of dated in high school. You know how it is." You smile as he strokes your hand with his fingers. "What matters is now. I'm gonna make tonight so special for you."

"It already is." You squeeze his hand. He pats his lap and you go to him, your heart warm and glowing as you take your seat and his arms wrap around you.

"We're gonna take our time with everything," he says. "There's no rush. It's all about you."

His words alone cause a rush of sensation to your core. "Will you still want me after I'm no longer a virgin?"

He smiles and kisses your cheek. "Are you serious? Of course I'm still gonna want you. I'll probably want you even more after I've made you mine. And if I could, I'd make you mine every day."

There's a fluttering in your chest, as if your heart has grown wings. "I'm only ever going to be yours, Joel.. no one else will have me the way you will. No one else will know me that way."

His deep brown eyes are filled with lust and longing. "Babygirl, that's a big promise to make. And you're so young.."

"I mean it," you stroke his hair and nuzzle his neck, taking in his scent. "I can't wait to feel all of you."

Joel's response is a guttural growl as his arms possessively encircle you.

"Joel.. I want you to own me, to claim me from everyone else."

"You belong with me, you have since day one. Nobody is ever gonna take you away from me. Christ, I've never been so addicted to a woman before." And he claims your mouth, tongue invading and tasting as he lifts you up and places you on the table, hooking your legs around his waist. He presses his hips to you, letting you feel how much he needs you. Your body molds to his naturally, and he continues to press against you, teasing you with his hardness.

"You gonna take me right here?" you ask, only half-joking.

"You deserve better than to be fucked on top of a table your very first time," he smirks and leans in, his lips hovering over yours. "But don't worry: one of these days we'll do exactly that."

You whimper his name and it nearly undoes him. He's tempted to clear the table with just a swipe of his arm and lay you down, fucking you until you scream his name. "Wait," he groans. "I wanted to surprise ya. I said I'd make tonight special." He pulls himself away from you. "Can I trust you to be a good girl and stay here while I get everything ready?"

"What kind of surprise? Tell me," you insist with innocent glee.

"Girl, if I tell ya it won't be a surprise," he laughs.

You promise to be on your best behavior as he goes to set up the bedroom. You want desperately to sneak a peek, to see Joel Miller planning a romantic night, but you keep true to your word and wait, albeit impatiently.

Finally Joel returns and, smiling, takes your hands in his to lead you to the bedroom. The lighting is dimmed, the only source of illumination comes from the two bedside lamps and a dozen LED candles glimmering around the room. The bedspread is adorned with a spill of red, pink, and white rose petals; their fragrance is sweet in the air. Music is already playing over the sound system, but later you won't even remember what it is, just that everything is perfect, and you tell Joel so.

"You mean it?" He puts his arms around you from behind. "You deserve all the attention and all the romance. I didn't want to half-ass this." He studies your face, memorizing every emotion that shows on your uniquely beautiful features. "You make me feel good about myself. I've never really had this before.. you're my angel, my everything. I love you."

It's as if everything has clicked into place. Every moment has led to this. "And I love you, Joel.. I love you and I want you." You press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping the back of his head with your hand. As he returns the kiss you press your body to his, eager to feel all of him. His tongue slips past your lips, tangling with yours as the anticipation grows between you. Stepping back from him you begin to undress. You've done this a dozen times in front of him, but tonight is distinct in its significance.

Joel helps you, his hands gentle in their aid as your top comes off, then your shorts. Your new bra and panties, purchased just for this occasion, leave little to the imagination, and you feel sexy and powerful beneath Joel's gaze. Kissing you again he deftly unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts and cupping them in his large palms. He trails his kisses down your neck, across your breasts, down your belly, until he's on his knees before you. There's a mischief and a hunger in his eyes as he gently pulls down your panties. Your breath hitches as he comes close, inhales your scent, nudges the tip of his nose against you as his warm breath caresses your skin and you gasp when at last his tongue delicately rasps against your folds. He gently parts your thighs, making slow and deliberate licks, then opening you up with his fingers. Biting your lip you give a shuddering sigh as your head leans back, fingers sliding through Joel's hair as his tongue fucks you and he gently sucks on your swollen pussy lips before spoiling your clit. His hands firmly cup your ass, pulling you to him, needfully.

You cum quickly, excited at what the night will bring, and you feel Joel place you on the bed. "Daddy I'm going crazy over here," you moan, your body aflame with desire, with the need to be his. You sit on your knees on the bed, watching him undress and stop him when his erection springs free. "I want to kiss it," you whisper, and lean forward to place a gentle kiss on the tip, tasting a drop of his salty precum. Joel is so hard it hurts and he does everything in his power not to cum when you tease him with your mouth. Sucking his broad tip, licking the underside, hollowing out your cheeks as you fit the first few inches of him in your mouth. "God, babygirl.. I want you so much," he whispers.

You get under the covers, pushing the blankets down so your body exposed to him. "Come here and take what's yours." Joel takes a deep breath and gets on the bed with you, hungry eyes taking in the sight of you and his hands follow suit, tracing the curve of your hips, watching goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Do you have any condoms?" you remember to ask.

"Of course," he smiles and reaches into the bedside drawer. You watch as he removes a foil packet, the label boasting the biggest size, and watch as he carefully rolls it on. You're transfixed by the movements, the way he sheathes his cock in the latex barrier. He touches you gently between your thighs, spreading your wetness around. "You don't have to worry. I'm gonna take care of you.." He kisses you long, slowly, deeply, making you melt. He's pressed hot and hard against your thigh, and you recognize a longing so deep and powerful. You keep your eyes on him as you make room for him between your legs.

He's hovered over you, pressed eagerly at your entrance. His heart beats against yours, so intimate and right. "Joel.. tell me you love me."

He gives you another kiss and gazes into your eyes as he breathes your name. "I love you, so god damn much."

"I love you too, Joel." Sighing, you lift your hips against his. He glides his length over your cunt, teasing your clit. Then he slides two fingers in, pumping gently, in awe of your tightness and your heat. His breath quickens as your hips move against his hand. "Joel, please.." you whimper, and remove his hand, overeager for him to really take you.

Joel takes a deep breath and utters another "I love you" as he gently starts to press into you. You take in the first few inches and he stops when you show discomfort. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he whispers.

You shake your head, heart racing at top speed as your desire to truly be his is the strongest feeling within you. "Don't stop," you tell him.

Joel exhales sharply and tries his best to be gentle as he nudges further. "Look at me," he says, gently cupping your face as he buries himself within you in one smooth thrust. There's a tightness, a pinch of pain that reminds you how inexperienced you are. Joel is warm and solid inside you, and he's not even all the way in yet. He registers the look of discomfort on your face and he pauses. "Babygirl did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did, I just.." he kisses your neck over and over again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"Joel, it's okay." Your breath hitches in the relevance of this moment. "Can you go a little gentle?"

Joel nods. "Yeah, of course, anything," he says, and slows down, gently kissing your neck. "I'll be as gentle and soft as you want me to be." He presses gently on your clit as he moves against you slowly, carefully, lovingly. As the pleasure of this overrides the twinge of pain, you open for him naturally, and begin gently moving with him as he carves out a space deep inside you that's just for him, that no one else will be able to fill.

So this is what it's like.. you smile and kiss him. "You feel good."

He's holding back, overwhelmed by how fucking perfect this moment is. "You feel amazing, babygirl. Like nothing I've ever felt before." He moves his hips just a little faster, holding you a little tighter. You gasp, but the friction feels so good and the discomfort eases away. Joel listens to your sounds, gauges your reactions as he moves in a little bit deeper, a little bit faster. You tell him when it's too much and he slows down until you're used to it and he continues. "I love you so much.. so god damn much," he whispers.

Soon you're matching him movement for movement. "I love you," you say, wrapping your limbs around him. His hands travel the length of your legs and he moves up, hands on your hips as he watches himself move in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt inch by inch and reappearing, glistening with your slick arousal. You pay attention to how he moves, how he breathes, the warmth of his kisses on your skin, the strength of his arms and power of his hips. "I want it all, Joel," you tremble with need. "Daddy, please," Your body is flushed, excited, on edge. Joel picks up speed, a sense of urgency to him now. He's so deep inside, finally fully connected with you, giving you every single inch with each powerful thrust. "Oh my god.." your eyes pop open as a large and looming feeling begins to take over. "Joel.. I think.. I'm gonna cum!"

His smile is warm and there's pure desire in his eyes, "Yeah, babygirl, keep going. Let it take over." You nod and close your eyes, feeling Joel's movements and your own until your body tenses up, experiencing a great wave of pleasure engulf you, over and over again. You moan his name. It takes every ounce of willpower not to cum when you squeeze and clamp around him, your inner walls fluttering. He watches your face, so beautiful in ecstasy that it near stills his heart. He'd promised you something you'd never forget and he was fully intent on making this the best night of your life. He slows his movements. Your body is so pliant beneath his, moving as he wishes.

You've just come down from your high, smiling, sated, a little sweaty. He's made you cum before but never with his cock inside you. It's a different experience, more intimate. "Joel.. you're so good," is all you can say.

He smiles down at you. "It's that good, huh? You just feel so perfect right now." He starts up again, gliding more easily inside you now that you've cum, now that he's opened you to him. Despite all the women he'd been with before, this time with you feels like he's just discovering the pleasures of sex for the very first time.

You've never felt more powerful, full of joy. Joel grasps your hips and maneuvers you on top. You feel him even deeper, if that's even possible. And now you have control. You move at your own pace, moaning at how he's still stretching you. You roll your hips slowly, savoring the feel of him, and watching him beneath you give you a sense of power.

"My god," Joel moans, his large hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin, "I'm gonna die, you feel so fuckin' good. Fuck me, babygirl." He's so weak for everything you're doing.

Head thrown back you ride him, chasing your pleasure. Joel bites his tongue, trying his best not to cum right away, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. You brace yourself on his chest, eyes closed, breath panting. "Joel! Joel!"

He groans. "I fuckin' love when you moan my name." He rises up as the heat builds up inside him. "I want to cum with you, baby. Keep going.. almost there," he whispers passionately. His hands grab your ass, guiding you smoothly up and down his cock. He loves that you're a sweaty, writhing mess, and all because of him. Arms wrapped around him, the pleasure overtakes you and you let it, surge after powerful surge radiating between you, and Joel buries his face in your neck as he whimpers, twitching inside you as he comes.

You're left light-headed for a moment, still trying to catch your breath. The pleasure resonates through you, not letting you out of its grasp yet. "Oh.. my god," you mumble.

Joel presses a kiss to your neck and gently parts from you. Your brows furrow from the loss of him as he settles you on the pillows. After discarding of the condom he lays with you, studying your features in the mood lighting. "Are you okay?" he asks, kissing your forehead.

"Yes.. I'm wonderful." Your smile is one of idiotic bliss, despite the slight throbbing, the dull ache of giving yourself to him. "It was so much better than I imagined," you sigh.

He wraps you in his arms, treating you as if you're the most precious object in the world.

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divider by @saradika-graphics & @plum98

[kazumist]

EPISODE 13 ✿ LITTLE BY LITTLE

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 732.

with the past issue slowly dying down, you and diluc decided to lay low for each other’s sake so that you two could avoid such an issue appearing again.

“wait, so i just do that? how come it looked so difficult when professor maxwell explained it?" you exclaimed, shocked at how you didn’t get the process earlier.

he won’t even deny it. he has been warming up to you ever since that talk you guys had back then. ever since he was in junior high school, all he had were the other three. so for him, it felt quite refreshing that he managed to get along with someone new on a close level.

“maybe it’s because you were feeling sleepy again during his lecture.” diluc chuckles at you.

“hey, i wasn’t! though his voice really does have this sleepy effect whenever he’s giving a lecture... he’s so soft spoken for what?” you groaned, slumping yourself over on the table. 

-

if someone were to see you and diluc, one would most likely assume you're together as a couple, having a little study date in the library.

“you mixed these two up. first, you do this, then you do that," diluc explains, using his pencil to point out your mistakes. 

“actually, do you prefer a simpler way to solve this?”

“diluc, this is fucking calculus. of course i’d prefer an easier way," you deadpanned at him.

“alright, well, you can actually just use this formula instead," he says, writing it down for you.

you looked confused as you stared at the formula presented before you. “eh? but professor maxwell didn't teach us that.”

“that's because i derived it. look, if i use this formula,” writing down the proper solution using the derived formula that he's teaching you (however, you couldn't help but stare at his side profile instead of the one he was writing). “and there you have it. see? it's still the same result," he finishes.

“huh? wait, yeah! i think my life just became easier. what the hell?" 

“you're welcome.” he chuckles.

but who cares if they assume that you're romantically involved with each other? they can think all they want. what matters is that your only focus is the derived formula that just made your life easier.

oh! and the one who taught you that as well.

-

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

but why—just why did diluc feel so... electric when your hands brush against each other? why did it actually feel nice when he felt your touch, even if it was just for a quick moment? this is stupid, diluc thinks; he just helped you pick up your pen, after all.

why did it make him happy to hear his name roll off your tongue so smoothly? it’s not like you say it in a different way than his friends. so what makes you say it so differently? what makes it special for diluc whenever he hears you say his name?

with a bit of remaining time left, you both decided to take care of some other schoolwork. but diluc couldn’t focus. no matter how hard he tries, his attention span for his own workload just ends up shifting to the girl working peacefully beside him—you.

he takes in your side profile. your index and middle fingers were pressed onto your temple, gently massaging it, a sign that diluc noted that you’re stressed about whatever you’re working on right now. your other hand lets go of the pen it was holding as you start to tap your fingers against the table—a habit you have whenever you try to brainstorm or think of something—and a trait that diluc noted down in his head (as for why he noted such a thing down, he’ll refuse to answer that).

you two are supposed to be only a tutee and a tutor to each other. neither of you should cross that line; diluc should know this by heart—after all, he’s the one who refuses to show any romantic interest towards anyone because he’s solely focused on his career. he couldn't—actually, no, he wouldn’t even dare take a tiny step into the gates that lead to your heart.

nonetheless, diluc accepts it. he accepts that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossing the line right now (or maybe he has already crossed without even realizing it).

it wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

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[mrs-monaghan]

there’s so much misinfo going round atm, see lots of people saying that after jk enlists with jm and does the boot camp he can apply for some special ???something and will leave separately where he is stationed or that just because jk / jm are enlisting on same day, they only will do basic training together then go to separate places ? and that they only chose the enlisting together option because it meant they could make sure they were out in time for june ?

ik it’s a bit hard to follow maybe with different sources and not real confirmation but do you know if any of it is true? my understanding was that they did the “enlisting together” scheme thing, (ie. it’s a purposeful application, they knew they were choosing this way) which meant they’ll at least be in same living quarters etc the whole time until they’re out ?

sorry for long Q! it’s ok if you dk it was just confusing D; thank you!

Hi anon. 😳 I am terrible when it comes to the serious stuff and have the attention span of a toddler when such topics arise. My mind registers them as boring and so I don't retain the in4. But my friends delved deep into this so I will gather as much as I can and do my best to explain the sitch

Let me start by correcting the biggest misinformation of them all. Thanks to fucking Mina with her fake subs and reaching conclusions, the vermin are confusing "Special Task Force" with "Special Forces"

JK said he wanted to join special forces. Well and good

But thats not what V is doing. V applied for Special Task Force which, while not easy (he said in the live its why he enlisted there, to challenge himself) its nothing compared to special forces. Special forces is HARD CORE. Its no joke. It's for those who actually want to go to war and proper fight for their country. Not for those fulfilling a mandatory duty... One they wouldn't do if they had the choice. Special forces, those people actually wanna be there. And if u know JK then u shouldn't be surprised that he would say something like this. Of course our dare devil bunny would enjoy joining something as risky as special forces.

But guess what? No one stopped him. He still could have gone there if he really wanted to. Just like in Winter package. No one told him to give up zip lining for beer tasting. He did that off his own volition since Jimin was going beer tasting. JK's happiness is where Jimin is. Period. (Suga's presence played a big part but we don't talk about Yoonmin)

(Edit: the whole thing takes almost 8 years to complete which again, is not something JK would actually do if he wanted to still stay a member of BTS. And of course satellite Jeon would again, never do it)

Jikook wanted to use the buddy system and they applied where Jin is on purpose because since the location is so risky, (front lines) not alot of people apply to serve there. So the chances of them being accepted were pretty high. I already talked a bit about that here.

Coldest and most dangerous. But before we panic, Jikook love snow so... thats good. But also;

2 things to note before we continue; 1) Tattoos are a none factor on why Jikook applied together or why JK couldn't be with V. They had 0 to do with that. And 2) All members and where they ended up it was their decision

So, here is a Korean explaining

They shall not be separated. They will train together and continue to serve together

One body. Shiet.

Nice. Even the breaks they will take together. Basically spend every minute together for those 18 months y'all.

They had to pass 3 rounds. Applying wasn't all. They had rounds to pass before getting accepted. So as we can see this was a whole ass process. They really worked hard on this to make it happen.

Apparently there is a show you can watch that explains the buddy system. Its 8 episodes, its called real man

The holding hands thing is legit 🤣🤣🤣

Jikook shouldn't have an issue then 🤭

Anon, people are in denial and the other half are trying to explain this away. If Jikook only went in together just so they could come out at the same time then they could have done what Vmon did. Apply separately at the same time.

This is one tough pill to swallow for antis. It's like the biggest fuck u Jikook could have ever done but at the same time I really don't think they factored anyone else but themselves when they made this decision.

18 months is no small amount of time so let's call a spade a spade; Jikook couldn't be apart that long. Fax 💯 JK wanted to be there for Jimin, Jimin wanted to be there for JK, of course. Them in the same place looking out for each other is all I as a fan who loves them can ask for. But at the same time, they needed this.

Anon, they will be together 24/7 for the entire duration of their time there.

Yes. Sleeping in the same quarters. It wouldn't make sense for companionship if they were separating the recruits who applied together. To be companions. Of each other.

The buddy system is there to help friends cope with this difficult mandatory thing that the government insists on doing to their young men. It's there to help them cope in any way possible. I imagine mostly mentally. So why would they train them together then separate them? ❓❓❓

It is said that you should make sure the person you apply with, is a person u get along with super well because for the next 18 months you will be together every moment of everyday. It's krazy to imagine that JK wouldn't rather do this with his actual boyfriend V, instead. Krazy. 🤯

Anygays, no need to worry my good people, Jimin and JK have got each other's back. All that's left is to wait for them and pray for them. May they always hold hands 🤭

Tihihihihihihi

[peroxiddeprincess]

How The Call Of Duty : MWII Characters Would Act With a Bimbo Girlfriend (Fem!Reader)

Characters included — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, König

No descriptive NSFW — Just headcannons / imagines. NSFW implied for some characters.

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

Bimbo definition (in case you arent aware) — an attractive but unintelligent or frivolous young woman.

✭ Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

— Oh my god, would he be absolutely infatuated with you.

— You didn’t even have to do anything but stand there and he’d have hearts in his eyes.

— Maybe it was the outfits you wore, or the makeup you caked on your face, but nonetheless, everything you did was just so appealing to him.

— He’d always compliment your outfits, and he’d always notice the little things.

“Did you get new lipstick?” “Is that skirt new?”

— He made sure to take note of the things you wore aswell. Why? So he could buy you new stuff of course.

— He likes to do your makeup sometimes. Even if it looks like shit, you’ll wear it for the rest of the day anyway to let him know your appreciation.

— Colored hair isnt his thing, but you convinced him once to get blue hair with you. No regrets. You told him it made him sexier. Simon told him you two looked alike. Johnny felt weird about the way he worded that and didn’t talk to Simon for a few days after..

— You are his Facebook banner. Facebook because he’s such a dad, and you’re his banner because he likes showing you off to the 3 friends he has added. Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro.

— As for the.. Slow part of being a bimbo, he’d have no problems attempting to explain or break down something you didnt quite understand.

— He isn’t the kind of guy to get frustrated when you dont understand something immediately either. He’ll try his best.

— You aren’t completely dumb though. You’ve taught him many things! And one of the most important things,

You taught him to love himself.

Bonus:

“Wow, babe. I love that outfit on you.” He sneaks behind you, making you jump. “Awe — Thank you, JoJo!” You clapped your hands together, the biggest smile on your face.

“I could compliment you for hours.” He says. “Could stare for hours.”

You spit your bubblegum out in the trashcan near you. “Go ahead.” You say, making his cheeks heat up.

He goes on and on with some of the weirdest — but cutest — compliments you’ve ever heard in your life. You didn’t even realize you were going to be late to your nail appointment.

No worries, though. You continued to let him compliment you. When he finally finished his rant, you smile big again.

“I wasn’t listening to a thing you were saying.” You giggle nervously. “Gimme more!” You beg. “You gonna listen this time?” He asks, smiling. “Probably not.” You admit.

“Oh, well. Thats okay. I’ve got many, many more things to say to you, love.” He continues on and on, knowing your attention span is short, but he doesn’t mind, not one bit.

What matters to him right now is that you’re so close, and he feels secure in your touch.

✭ Simon “Ghost” Riley

— He never usually thinks much about your appearance unless he catches someone eyeing you.

— “Wear whatever you want, i can fight.” Energy.

— Hes just gotten used to how you dress and present yourself. It’s not that he doesnt care, but he doesnt mind it anymore. You used to capture his attention with every move. You still do, but not because of your appearance, but because hes taken a liking (meaning, he somewhat tolerates you.) to you.

— He isnt one to feed into your presentation. He doesnt buy you clothes, but he’ll sometimes express his attraction to a certain outfit you’ve thrown together.

— Also, he gets very frustrated when you don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you. He won’t break it down for you, and wont apologize if he makes you cry out of frustration or pure sensitivity from how mad he gets.

— He isnt a yeller, but he makes it obvious that he cant keep the conversation going. He’ll ignore you and simply walk away.

— Not to mention, he doesn’t apologize. He’s never wrong in his mind. You’re just sensitive and take his words the wrong way.

— But anyway, of course he cares about you. He has a horrible way of showing it. He wouldnt be able to “love” you properly due the narcissistic way his mind works, but even then, he still wants to protect you somewhat.

— Also, he wont go out of his way to let anyone know you two are dating, either. You’ll have to spill the beans. He’ll just nod, and most likely walk away to avoid questions.

Bonus:

“What is that?” You ask, pointing to the big gun in his hand. “..A gun? Are you stupid, or something?”

You pouted at the mean words. “I know its a gun, what kind of gun? Why is it so big?”

He doesnt say anything, choosing to ignore you as he walks away. “Simonnn.” You call. Silence. Other than the heavy footsteps from his boots.

You sit there on the couch, blinking back tears to avoid your fake lashes from falling off and your mascara running down your cheeks.

Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you, holding out a pamphlet. You’re confused. “What?” You ask, looking up at him. “It’s a book.” He says, stating the obvious. “..About guns. The big ones.” He cringes saying it, feeling like a complete loser at how he needs to speak to you for you to understand.

His awkwardness quickly fades as you enthusiastically take the book from him, flipping through the pages. He sits down next to you and watches you analyze the page you were on.

“Ooh! Tell me more about this one.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, but gives in with a heavy huff and starts pointing out parts of the gun, explaining what they do and what they’re called.

You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, his deep voice thick and sultry in your ears.

“…Could you repeat that?” You ask, and his eyebrow cocks up. “What part?”

“…All of it.” You say nervously, avoiding eye contact. He sighs and gives in, repeating everything he just told you.

You weren’t focused this time either, but you felt like this was quality time, so you pretended to understand what he was saying.

You thought you had convinced him, but he knew you weren’t paying attention. He didn’t care much anymore, continuing to talk, not wanting to admit that maybe he didnt mind having you this close to him. Even if having to repeat himself alot was getting annoying.

✭ Alejandro Vargas

— He would absolutely love your style. Would eat it up every single time.

— Would show you off. Loves how you two are complete opposites. He’d brag about you to anyone willing to listen.

— When you two got the chance to be alone, he’d hold your waist and feel your body through the thin fabric.

— He was always very expressive about how much he adores the way you pamper yourself. You always giggle and tell him its just for him. He smiles.

— Once he almost broke a bone trying on a pair of your platforms. Never again.

— You also managed to get fake lashes and lipstick on him. You took so many pictures. He was very embarrassed.

— He understands that you need time to learn things. He gets frustrated of course, but we cant blame him, he’s only human.

— He tries to make you feel like the most brilliant person on earth, even if sometimes it’s a bit.. hard.

— Once you asked him, “Why do you wear so much gear?” And he replied, “Well, it’s important.” And tried to explain it to you. You couldn’t quite grasp the fact that he needed it, and kept telling him he should show off his body because he was sexy. He took the compliment ans dropped the conversation, you were too cute to argue with.

— You guys do have your arguments of course. He’s more patient than you’d think, though. He’ll give you space.

— After that, you two are all over eachother again. He loves you. Even if you don’t quite understand his job. or many things, for that matter.

Bonus:

“I tried to cook you something,” You started, “But it didn’t end very well.”

He pinched his nose at the foul smell of something burning. “I cleaned it up..” You smile awkwardly. “..For the most part.”

“For the most part?” He questions, walking into the kitchen. It became obvious what you meant. The bottom of the skillet had thick, black burnt material all over it. You tried to scrub it off but gave up. There was also some splatter on the stove.

He smiles a bit, looking back at you. “You know what?” He asks, and you hum. “I’ll clean this up.. You go do whatever else you need to do, as long as it doesnt involve household chores.” You frowned. “But.. I wanna help!”

He tried to get you to go elsewhere, but you werent budging. He sighs, accepting his fate…

He ended up letting you help. But he was standing so close you could hear his breathing, and his heart pumping, guiding you through how to properly scrub a burnt pan. You were focused on his hands the whole time.

✭ Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

— He was very open about his attraction to you and your style. Not often open to others, but open to you for sure.

— He often made jokes, which sometimes you’d end up taking too serious, and he’d have to comfort you and reassure you that he didn’t mean it.

— He knew he didn’t mean it, but sometimes, you just didn’t quite understand…

— He’s always boasting about how beautiful you look to him when he comes home to you, or when you send him a picture of yourself.

— It became habit to show him your makeup and outfit everyday, and he’d devour you completely with his eyes.

— Sometimes, if you forget, you’ll stay up until 4 a.m. perfecting your appearance just to show him.

— Usually he’s concerned you’re up so late, but your pretty face is worth it.

— Your face is his lock screen. And wallpaper.. And everything else he could put your face on…

— He gets questions about you all the time but brushes it off. Nobody needs to know about you but him, after all.

— Occasionally, if he’s feeling talkative, he’ll talk about you and sometimes even show you off.

— Alejandro overheard a phone call between you two, and was very confused when he had to repeat himself, just word his sentences differently.

— He loves you dearly and doesnt mind explaining things to you. He likes listening to you talk, and he likes your face when a light bulb moment goes off in your head. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

— Also, he’s a very attentive lover, and will make sure you’re safe and know what you’re doing. Definitely texts you every chance he gets when he knows you’re out.

Bonus:

He was driving, and Alejandro pointed out his lock screen as a notification came through.

“Who’s that?” He asks. Rudy hesitates. “..My girlfriend.”

Alejandro pretends to be stabbed in the chest. “My heart! For you have wounded me!”

Rudy chuckles nervously. Alejandro straightens up. “So.. Girlfriend, huh?” He asks. Rudy’s phone starts ringing.

Speak of the devil… He thinks. He picks up the phone, and your sweet voice comes through. “Hey babyyy!” He could tell you were smiling.

“What’s up?” He says, speaking quietly in the presence of Alejandro. “I sent you a picture of my new nails.. But i figured you were driving. Can you atleast look..?” He could tell your smile faded into a pout.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

“Yay! Thank you! I love youu.” You say, before hanging up. He pulls up your messages, looking at the picture of your nails and sighing before typing, ‘Beautiful, just like you.’

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger, aye?”

Rudy quickly slams his phone down, looking through the windsheild.

“Sí”

✭ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

— You are definitely his type. He can’t imagine himself with anyone else.

— He likes to pick you up and twirl you around, mostly because of the skirts you wear. You’ve told him it makes you feel like a ballerina.

— He definitely feeds into your perfume collection. You bring home a big bag of perfumes and body sprays and make him smell them and pick out his favorites.

— He’s also the guy to jokingly tell you to get his tip color on your nails because he saw someone else say it and thought it was the funniest thing ever, but then is surprised when you actually do it.

— It started with a, “Hey baby, like my nails?” And you gracefully wiggling your fingers in his face. Of course he says yes, but when it finally processes what exactly it’s depicting, his eyes are wide. He’s giddy.

— It’s definitely taken him time to adjust to your humor. You find some of the dumbest things funny. He doesnt quite understand, but when you laugh, he laughs aswell. You’re adorable, how could he not?

— He’s definitely very supportive of you dying your hair crazy colors. Sometimes you get bored and wanna put some pink in there! If you wear wig installs, he will buy them for you. He’s actually quite good at installing them aswell. 40 youtube tutorials later…

— If you have piercings, he’s totally into that too! He even encourages you to get new ones.

— He doesnt mind your processing speed or lack of basic knowledge either. He finds it enticing that he has to help you out. Maybe he just likes the excuse to spend more time with you.

Bonus:

You two were watching TV on the couch together, he was stuffing popcorn in his face and you were very interested in the dramatic romance going on in the film.

Suddenly, a kissing scene comes on. His first instinct is to cover your eyes, and you start laughing. “What was that for?” You ask through your giggles.

He starts to laugh with you. “Instincts kicked in. My bad, my bad. Continue on.”

He shovels the popcorn in his mouth again and you cant stop laughing at how stupid but funny the interaction was.

“What’s funny?” He asks, grin on his face as the grease from the popcorn surrounds his lips. “You. You’re funny.” He rolls his eyes at your response.

“Just continue watching those two tongue eachother and leave me be.” He says, crunching resuming. You laugh again, and he laughs with you so hard that popcorn almost came out of his nose. You shove him away when he chokes a bit, still laughing. “Ew! Stop laughing, you’re gonna barf!” He pushes you back against the couch and starts tickling your sides.

You kick at him, thrashing a bit at the sensation. Your laughter only grew. “Stop it, now i’m gonna barf!” You giggle.

“Didn’t wanna barf alone.” He says, placing a buttery kiss to your cheek. You wipe it off and wipe it on his face.

He doesnt even care, staring into your eyes with the biggest smile on his face.

✭ John Price

— Definitely an old soul. Wasn’t into the way you displayed your body, but he eased into it as he fell deep into loves trap.

— His more traditional ways slowly died down after dating you. He couldn’t help his past mindset, it’s just how he was raised.

— He’s definitely all about paying for your hair, nails, clothes, makeup, and anything else you want.

— He taught you how to cook. It was definitely tough, but he’s a decent cook and had no problem passing it down to you.

— Admittedly, however, he does get very, very frustrated with you.

— Sometimes he has to walk away to calm himself down after a particularly rough interaction. He’s talked to you about this, and you’ve gotten used to it. You don’t have many problems with it now. Just hurts your heart a bit.

— But-! He always makes sure to comfort you afterward. He’s reassuring, telling you he’s sorry and he just needed a moment. He also is sure to ask you if you’d like to continue the conversation or move on.

— Sometimes you say you’d like to continue so you could push his buttons a bit more, but only if you’re extra frustrated with him.

— He also loves when you explain stuff to him he doesn’t understand! Ramble about makeup and clothes for hours! He takes good mental notes.

— He definitely loves you. Alot. He even describes you as his soulmate to his peers. He always manages to push past the frustration, and continues loving you no matter what.

Bonus:

You were applying your lipstick, lips parted and face shoved in the mirror.

“Darlin’?” Your boyfriend says, coming up behind you and examining what you’re doing. You turn around, smile painting your face. “Ah! Hii!” You exclaim. He smiles.

“Whatcha’ doin’?” He questions, head cocking. “Just finishing up my makeup. You like?” You ask. He gives an affirming nod. “You look absolutely ravishing.” You blush at the compliment.

“What’s this do?” He asks, picking up your mascara. You beam. “Mascara! Makes my eyelashes long and full.” You bat your eyes up at him prettily.

Your reaction urkes him to press further. “Oh yeah? What’s this?” He picks up one of your favorite eyeshadow pallets.

“Eyeshadow.” Your eyes close, allowing him to examine the masterpiece that painted your eyes. “Very nice.. Whats this?” He picks up your concealer. “Concealer! Hides all my flaws.” You giggle.

He cocks his head. “Impossible.” “Hm?” He smiles. “You have no flaws. Nothing to cover.” You blush, looking away nervously before looking back up to him with a heartfelt smile. “I love you.” You muse. “I love you more.”

This quickly turned into a battle of who loves eachother more, but he ended up letting you win just to see you get really happy.

✭ Phillip Graves

— Is absolutely obsessed with you and the way you look. Always has something to say about it.

— This man can never shut up about you!! You’re too perfect. Unfortunately for the other fellas’, you’re all his, and he makes that point very clear.

— You once mentioned matching tattoos and he was beaming with excitement. Absolutely ecstatic. He said yes about a hundred times.

— He helps you with everything. Money? Clothes? Food? Makeup? Bills? All the above, baby.

— You’re so special to him. He feels like his job is to talke care of all of your needs and wants, no matter how outrageous. He doesn’t want you to lift a finger. No job for you! Live in your lush lavish provided by your dear boyfriend.

— Once you had him take a look at the Adam & Eve website, and he bought you everything you clicked on to look at, whether it was lingerie or a toy.

— Definitely one of the most surprising packages to show up on your doorstep. Did you put all of the lingerie on and take a mini photo shoot for him? Oh, without a doubt.

— He does tend to get frustrated with you sometimes, though. Your relationship is 99% happy stars and rainbows and kittens, but the remaining 1% is how crazy you drive him sometimes.

— You don’t get something? Okay, he’ll send you an article about it. Don’t wanna read all that? He’ll break it down. Don’t understand how to do something? No more questions asked, he’s already doing it for you.

— There have been a few times where he’s let a few dull insults slip past his lips during arguments, telling you he does everything because you can’t. Later though, he realizes that was definitely wrong to say and it’s his fault for doing everything for you. You’re just his spoiled princess.

— That’s how he wants it to be, though. You’ll be his pampered little lover for the rest of eternity. Whether you like it or not. He’s never letting you go.

Bonus:

You’re lugging a box full of new shoes and accessories into your house, when all of a sudden your boyfriend comes from behind you and lifts it without a struggle.

“Oh, thank you!” You bat your pretty eyes at him as he sets the box down. “Of course, pretty.” He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug.

“You’re gonna mess up my makeupppp!” You protest. “Awe, i’m sorry baby.” He pulls away, giving a fake pout.

You hesitate. “..W-wait. Come back.” You say. “And why should i?” He interrogates. “Because you love me.”

He smiles, and you reciprocate. “Can’t argue with that, can i?” His arms make their way around your waist again. “What about your makeup, hmm? Wouldnt wanna mess all your hard work up.” He teases, hands resting on your hips.

“I’ll just fix it later. Hug me. Please?” You beg, and of course, he gives in. He squeezes you tight. “Don’t bother. I’ll just end up ruining it later too.” He says, and your eyes blow wide.

“Phillip Graves! Not until marriage!” You joke, laughing and pushing him away. He laughs aswell. “I mean, i can already consider you as my wife. Been together forever, and you aren’t going anywhere.” He promises. Your cheeks heat up. “..Yeah?” “Yeah, princess. Mine.”

He starts to place little teasing kisses on your neck, and you giggle.

✭ König

— You make him so nervous. Your appearance just adds to it.

— Truly believes he doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as you. You’re also complete opposites. You’re very outgoing where he tends to be timid and shy.

— Very bad self esteem, but believes everyone seeing him with such a babe will make people think higher of him.

— Of course this isn’t the only reason he’s with you!! He really, really likes you. And he hopes you feel the same way, he’s quite the overthinker.

— You’re entire world may revolve around your appearance for the most part, but you’re very good at comforting him. He greatly appreciates it.

— When you two are alone, he eases up and starts to become quite the chatterbox. Complimenting you, holding you in his arms while chatting up a storm, telling you anything and everything on his mind.

— He expresses that you’re perfect in his eyes. He loves you, which also means he absolutely adores everything about you. If you’re insecure, he throws in more compliments on the specific thing you’re insecure about.

“You’re beautiful. All of you.” “I love the way your body looks in that outfit.. Frames your perfect figure so well.”

— Random thing he likes - he loves giving you piggyback rides. Seeing the world from is point of view is so flabbergasting to you, no matter what! You always point out how tall he is. Makes him blush everytime.

— He’s never gotten frustrated with you. He understands how it feels to be bullied for being slow or “stupid”. He’s sure to reassure you that you’re none of those things, and everyone learns stuff differently!

— He’s very excited everytime you ask him to help you. He’ll do whatever he can to the best of his ability! Always assures you that you can count on him.

— He loves everything about you. I’ve said this before, but he truly does. Everything. You’re perfect.

— Eventually the insecurities fade, and he opens up. He’s so happy around you. He loves you so, so much. He still refuses to believe you’re his.

Bonus:

It finally snowed! You were super excited. You threw on one of your boyfriends way too big sweaters and some thermal tights with a pretty little skirt and some boots and made your way outside.

König follows behind once he realizes where you’ve gone. He’s worried you might get cold, but you’re quick to tell him you feel fine!

You throw a snowball at him, and he picks you up, twirling you around. “Oh no you don’t.” He says, holding you close. You giggle and squirm. “Nooo! Let me throw snowballs at you!!” You smile.

“How about instead of being violent with me, we build a snowman together?” He suggests, and you nod enthusiastically. You both begin to build the snowman, and he runs inside to grab a carrot for the nose and some chocolate for the buttons and eyes. (He couldn’t find coal.)

You both quickly decorate your snowman, and then you lean against him in content. “I may not be the smartest sometimes, but i can build a damn good snowman.”

“Hey! You’re smart. Intelligent, even.” He argues, making you laugh. “Thank you, baby.” You beam. His face flushes deeper than it already was.

“I love you so much.” He instantly curls in on himself after saying that, but quickly looking down at you as you reciprocate. “I love you more.” He picks you up and carries you inside, hugging you for “extra warmth”

C.C. - peroxiddeprincess 2022. NO REPOSTS. reblogs appreciated!

[in-class-daydreams]

Talking Terms (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Things are awkward between you and Sebastian after everything that happened with his uncle. You haven't spoken since before the holidays and this is the first time you've seen each other since the incidents. Your life is progressing with or without him, but you'd be a fool to deny that parts of you - all the important ones - remain with him. Notes/TW: Rich people. Also you're a member of the Black Family in this one. No use of YN. Unedited tho, ya girl ain't got attention span like that.

While families and lineage tended to hold a lot of weight where you lived, and everyone who wasn’t part of the main circle wished they were, money and status weren’t nearly worth the trouble, in your opinion. Late nights at tiresome soirees among the other pure-blood families tittering about how pure their blood is or whatever it is they talk about. You play the game, of course, just until you finally graduate from Hogwarts. As soon as that happens, you’ll never step foot in 12 Grimmauld Place again.

On the train to Hogwarts, you reach out to slide open a compartment door when a pale hand reaches past you.

“Please, let me get that for you,” your companion says, gesturing for you to enter first. Over the last several holidays, your family has been eager to introduce you to some other eligible pure-bloods your age. They were unsurprisingly heinous people, guilty of just about every prejudice in the book - against muggle-borns, against poor people, against women, it was like they had a checklist.

What was surprising was your odd fondness for Pollux Carrow, a fellow Slytherin you’d seen once or twice in the common room but never spoken to, hailing from the noble Carrow family. It would be a stretch to say you liked him. Growing up in a Sacred Twenty-Eight family of pure-bloods would always be a cauldron of generational trauma, and just because Pollux wasn’t a bad person, it didn’t mean he was the most saintly person, either.

The two of you enter the compartment and before Pollux can insist, you heft your bags into the overhead bin yourself. You sit, stretch out, and crack open the first book you grabbed on your way out the door that morning. The well-loved leather cover is soft beneath your fingers.

Goblets, Goblins, and Gobstones: An Anthology of Magical Folklore

Your heart clenches. You’d only received this a few months ago. You remember a flash of freckles and a boyish smile, telling you how he’d found it at a used bookstore and just had to get it for you. The tip of his nose was red from the cold, but he could not have cared less when you hugged him tightly and thanked him for the gift.

You’d gotten him a book as well, naturally, but you never got to give it to him.

“Merlin’s beard, that thing’s been through the wringer,” Pollux says from his seat.

You hum just to acknowledge him.

“Read it many times, then?” he asked.

The incident with Solomon Sallow happened not too long after. Since then, you couldn’t bring yourself to even open the thing. Not when you and the person you wanted to discuss it with the most weren’t speaking. You’d even given Ominis some space so as to not put him in a tight spot between his friends.

Finally, you reply, “It was a gift.”

Pollux eyes your book like it was diseased. “Interesting gift.”

This time you don’t deign to reply, knowing Pollux was one of those people who needed to have an opinion on everything. 

Movement in the walkway catches your eye and you gasp when a shock of fluffy brown hair breezes past the window. Ominis’s unmistakable visage follows closely behind, visibly grabbing for the boy in front of him and steering him into your compartment.

“Do you have room for two more?” Ominis asks. His posh accent and soft voice were always pleasing to hear. “All the other compartments are full.”

You know very well that they’re not, but you play along anyway.

“By all means.” You move your legs and belongings out of the way and pat the seat beside you. With the other hand, you shove your book under your thigh.

Maybe it’s seeing him again after time apart or the leather tome that smells like him sitting just beneath your robes, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think better of it.

“Hi, Sebastian,” you murmur.

The boy in question looks confused that you addressed him at all. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before shaking his head and giving you a nod.

“Hello.” His voice is a tad deeper than you remember it and he looks more tired. He inclines his head towards your companion. “Carrow.”

“Hello, Sallow,” Pollux replied. What is it with boys and calling each other by their last names?

Sebastian quickly plants himself beside Pollux and busies himself in a book you’ve seen him read a hundred times before. He was reading it when you first met him in the common room, in fact. He buries himself in his reading, but his lips are pressed into a hard line and he’s squinting at the words.

Rather than stir up trouble, you turn to Ominis.

“How was your holiday?”

He laughs. “Of course it was,” then he seemed to remember Pollux, “fine. Good to see family again.”

Being in close proximity to the Gaunt family could never be described as ‘good,’ even for the more obedient members of the family, which Ominis was not.

Thinking quickly on your feet, you feign coughing into your fist.

“Are you alright?” Pollux asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You cough again. “My throat’s just a little dry.”

He jumps to his feet. “I’ll get you some water!” And with that, he’s gone. If your calculations were correct, he’d see some more Slytherins on the way to the beverage cart and get held up for at least ten minutes.

“Well, Ominis? How was it really?” you prod.

He rolls his milky eyes and scoffs. “As good as predicted, that is, not at all. My family has migrated to our country estate for the season and when it wasn’t contentious between us, it was terribly boring.” He shrugs tiredly. “And you? Does the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black have anything to do with your new companion?”

You cringe at the full title. “The social season is months away, and yet they insist that I meet the other pure-blooded hellspawn.”

“Unsurprising that they’d favor a Carrow for you,” Ominis sighs. “I think I’ve spent at least half my holiday in the presence of the Greengrass’ youngest.”

“She’s pretty, at least,” you comment before Ominis raises an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You desperately stifle your laughter.

“Besides,” he adds, “she takes great fun in making the house elves compete for sport.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “Compete in what?”

“A better question would be what don’t they compete in?”

The two of you stare at each other in disgust before dropping the subject entirely. You steal a glance at Sebastian, who hasn’t turned the page since he opened his book and you know for a fact that he is an amazingly fast reader.

Ominis gives you a look that sends a shock of dread through you. He always made that face when he was planning something.

“Well, Garreth should be around here somewhere.” Ominis stood, stretching. “I have a book of his and I should pass it off to him now before I end up carrying it around for the rest of the day. I’ll be back shortly.”

You open your mouth to protest but he all but ran out the door. Sighing, you resign yourself to watching the landscape blur past through the window. Though, you note that Sebastian still has yet to turn the page. Part of you wants to say something, anything to fill the silence. Yet, what would you say? ‘I know you killed your uncle not too long ago, but how are you? Had a good holiday in an empty house?’ Or even ‘Remember how I prevented you from getting sent to Azkaban? So we’re good, right?’

Stealing another glance at him with his head nearly buried in the pages, you think about how the hardest part of being in this awkward place with Sebastian is that you don’t feel like you can talk to him. Before, you could sneak into the restricted section of the library and raid goblin camps and sit in the astronomy tower seeing who can invent the silliest new constellation.

Sebastian always won at that. It’s easy for smart people to be funny.

The two of you hadn't exchanged a single owl all holiday. Then, with all these memories in mind, you had to wonder: Did Sebastian miss you as much as you missed him? Of course, you had your bonds with Poppy and Imelda and Natty, but for all intents and purposes, Sebastian was your best friend. Being out of sync with him was like hearing a beloved song in the wrong key.

Even while your family paraded you around, introducing the different sons and daughters of the noble purebloods to you, you only thought of Sebastian. You’d never be fond of any of those bigots anyhow, but each of their flaws were in relation to him. They’d be too short or too tall,  another lacking enough freckles, and then one wouldn’t laugh at a joke you made that would’ve had Sebastian rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes. They were all wrong on so many accounts.

Pollux was the best of them, which wasn’t saying much, but he wasn’t nearly as hateful as the rest of them. At the time, while you were missing someone, he was an acceptable stand-in.

Being alone with Sebastian was quickly becoming too suffocating. You stand and rush to the compartment door and in your haste you almost don’t register the dull thud behind you.

When you turn, you see Sebastian pick up the leather tome you forgot you had. He turns it over in his hands, his expression unreadable.

“Oh!” You exclaim nervously, reaching for it. “Thank you, I’m so clumsy.”

“You kept it?” Sebastian said quietly.

You were somewhat offended at the implication. When he turned, you forced yourself to look into his eyes when you replied, “Of course, I did. It was a gift and I wanted to know why you liked it so much.” By the time the words left your mouth, you wondered if you’d said too much.

Sebastian doesn’t look away. His grip on your book loosened and an array of emotions flashed across his face. The circles under his eyes had lightened since you last saw him, but they were still there.

He wordlessly passes the book back to you and your skin tingles where your fingers brush.

“I wanted you to know.” Sebastian broke eye contact, then seemed to catch himself and reestablished it. “I feel like you deserve to know that–”

You jump when the door slides open right next to you. Pollux stands on the other side holding two cups of water. He begins to speak when rush out the door, calling out some excuse about needing the restroom over your shoulder. Never mind that the restroom was in the opposite direction.

Just the next car over, you run into Ominis, who aims the red tip of his wand towards you.

“Why are you so upset? What did Sebastian say to you?” He demands, then his eyes widen in shock. “Did he give that to you?”

You nod, and adjust your grip on the book. “Yes, a while ago. He said he couldn’t wait until the proper holidays. But I haven’t gotten around to reading it. Not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it’s–”

“You’re rambling,” Ominis interrupts. You smile sheepishly and he looks solemn. “He loves that book more than life itself. Did he tell you that?”

The book is leather, with loose bindings and yellowing pages. “No? It’s just some folklore, I do tend to like stories like these,” you reply.

Ominis shakes his head. “It’s full of his old bedtime stories. His mother used to read it to him before she died. It’s one of the last memories of her he has.”

You stare at the book in disbelief, looking back and forth from it to Ominis. “You’re serious? I can’t take something like this! We’re not even on speaking terms!”

Ominis pats your shoulder on his way past you. “Impulsive as he may be, Sebastian doesn’t take this sort of thing lightly. If he gave it to you, he wanted you to have it. Perhaps talk to him about it? Or about anything for that matter. Honestly, the two of you would have significantly less problems if you just talked to each other.”

As he leaves, you stare after him, the book in your hand suddenly much heavier than it was before. Smiling softly, you find an empty compartment - you knew Ominis was lying earlier - and sit down. The smell of the old book is comforting when you turn the first page, and it reminds you of someone who smells just like it. For the first time in weeks, you relax and begin to read.

[cuteskunkz]

╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

~ Part Two ~

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ After getting your number, Mike takes you out on a date to get to know you better. Read part one here.

Tags~ fluff, Mike is a gentleman aww, surprisingly no smut this time, reader is conflicted on their feelings, character building, Older Mike (Mike is 28 and reader is 20)

Note~ I've had a mean case of writers block lately, apologies for the well overdue update. Shorter fic tbh!!! My attention span is crying for help... This entire thing is pretty much me practicing my dialogue skills. Chapter 3 will definitely have smut, I just really want to build up before we get there ;)

⊱✿⊰

You drive home with Mike on your mind. It's been hard for you to connect with men lately due to your occupation, generalizing them to being horny and emotionally unavailable creatures. Something in you feels... different about Mike though.

As you reach your apartment you take a deep breath, feeling anxious. You walk in, dropping your bags at the door, and pop in the shower hoping to calm yourself down with a little pampering. After an hour of self care you get a call from Mike. You answer after a few rings, hoping to scope out his vibe a bit more before going out to drink with a random guy you just met.

After the 4th ring he speaks nervously, "H-hey! You got home safe?" He stares up at the ceiling, trying his hardest to speak confidently.

"Yeah! I have to say your bar suggestion sounds awfully tempting right now... you're not one of those dudes right? Yknow the 'I get girls drunk to make them more agreeable' type? Cause I swear to god I'll-"

He cuts you off, "I promise.... I just wanna take you out as a treat after the day you had... we don't even have to drink if you don't want to!" He hopes his words provide a bit of comfort to you. He couldn't imagine how tiring it must be to be a woman in the dating world, having to constantly stay vigilant about the dangers men can pose.

You sigh feeling embarrassed for accusing him of such a terrible thing. "I'm down to hang out now if you're not busy or anything! Which bar were you thinking?" You try to hide the excitement in your voice but the butterflies in your stomach are making it very challenging.

"There's this place not too far from me... I could scoop you and drive us down there, yeah?" He throws his head back and bites his lip to fight back the smile creeping up on his face. Mike can't get the mental image of your beauty off of his mind while talking.

You begin to blush from his raspy voice and reply, "Sounds good!! I'll see you soon then!!!"

"Text me your address and I'll be there asap, okay?"

"Yeah of course! I'm sending it now... lemme know when you get it." You text him your address with adrenaline running through body. Your heart feels like it's going to skip a beat from just talking to him.

"Yeah I got it...I'm on my way, I'll call when I'm outside... can't wait to see you..." Mike says, his voice dripping with elation. He hangs up and starts making his way to your house.

You run to your closet and begin picking outfit options, practically tearing it apart. After finally making your mind up, you apply some makeup and spray your most enticing perfume. You stare at yourself in the mirror, making note of the little details and suddenly feel a little confused on your giddiness. You don't know this guy, he could be some murderer on the prowl for a fresh kill for all you know.

The doorbell rings, you shake your mind of all of your anxious thoughts and make your way down to meet him. He greets you with a smile and presents you with a small bouquet of roses.

"I wasn't s-sure If you liked roses, but I wanted to bring you something as a thank you for even considering me" he mumbles, looking down at his feet. it was adorable seeing someone this shy because of you.

"They're very nice Mike... Thank you. I'm gonna go put these in a vase and then we can head out, hm?" After putting the flowers away you run back to the door, "Ready?"

"Extremely." Mike chuckles. He walks you out to his car, opening the passenger door for you. He gets it and connects his phone to play some music. "Hope you like Nirvana...it's like the only thing I listen to, not to sound like some rock elitist or something!"

You giggle and poke his arm, "Nirvana's fine, but I'm gonna have to put you on to something other than dad rock!" you tease. You watch his hands as he steers the car in the direction of the bar. They're callous and strong, his veins becoming more apparent as he gripped the wheel harder during turns. It's embarrassing to admit you got so turned on from staring his hands, Imagining what they would look like wrapped around your waist or better, your throat.

He pulls into a parking spot and pats your leg, "You're so beautiful, you know that?"

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and turn away from him to hide your rosy cheeks. "You mean it? Not just saying that to get into my pants Mike?"

"I would never... I definitely mean it, sweetheart"

He opens the door and guides you both into the bar. You hold onto him, arm locked around his bicep. It's a quaint little bar. Dimly lit and cozy, perfect for getting to know each other with the help of a couple shots.

"So... what's your drink of choice? I'm a tequila guy myself, especially with some salt and a lime"

You think for a second, "Hmmmm... I gotta go with Jager! Tastes like cough syrup a bit but the aftertaste isn't too bad"

"Bet." He walks up to the bar and orders the shots, bringing them back to the booth. "I got you a soda too y'know...in case you need a chaser"

"How thoughtful of you Mikey" you say sarcastically. What, does he think you can't take the shot like a big girl? 

He scoffs at the nickname. "I'm just looking out for you! I nearly died from fucking up a shot dude! It came out of my nose and everything." Mike laughs and rubs his nose as if he's having war flashbacks.

You laugh with him and pick up your glass and clink it on his. "Don't let it happen again!" You both tap your shot glasses on the table before knocking them back and sharing a drink of soda.

After a few minutes of small talk, asking the important questions like favorite colors and such, you start to feel the buzz. 

"Much better this time... my nose will live to see another day... or I guess... sniff another day? I don't fuckin' know anymore" He giggles and stares at you.

"S-something on my face?" you slur. A double shot wouldn't usually get you drunk this fast but you hadn't eaten all day, allowing the liquor to hit you harder than normal.

He shakes his head in defense, "Nah... you're just unbelievably hot." It's very clear the alcohol had made him lose his inhabitations.

"I could say the same about you y'know." you flirt back. "One more shot? Or are you scared it'll pour out of somewhere else?" You couldn't help but to snort and giggle at your own joke.

"Very funny little girl... One more won't hurt."

⊱✿⊰

*Read part 3 here*

Not gonna lie...self inserted twice here lmfao (I just turned 20 and JagerMeister is literally the best alcohol on earth).

@honey-eyed-munson this one's for you bbg, I wrote this today because your comment gave me so much inspiration :,)

[eowynstwin]

to rival the sun

Pairing: Gaz x f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: virginity loss, established relationship, praise kink (kind of), discussions of contraceptives, gratuitous use of italics, a metaphor perhaps stretched too thin, really just a lot of gooey sweetness, only one editing pass so be gentle Author’s Notes: Listen, I am not a Gaz girl, but this thing just came out of me.

Now on AO3!

You’re in the middle of making out on his couch when you tell him.

You’re straddled across his lap, arms hung loosely around his neck as his hands slide soft and soothing up and down your back. Something is burning low in your belly, something you’ve often felt but never shared with anyone else, and his mouth is warm and eager on yours.

“Can’t ever get enough of you, feels like,” he’d said to you, early in your relationship. He’d meant it as a joke, at the time, referring to the near three-solid days you’d spent together between deployment. You hadn’t even done that much—one or two outings to a cafe had only punctuated longer stretches given simply to sharing each other’s company. You’d still been getting familiar then, the both of you, still sharing kisses that were more shy than anything else.

Kyle is not shy now, and neither are you. His entire body is warm, and almost pliant beneath yours, but you can feel a kind of tightness that always seems to be there when the two of you get into these positions. It’s in his shoulders, pulled taut along the muscles of his trapezius, and as you tease his lower lip with your teeth you knead circles into the meat of it with the tips of your fingers.

The massage does the opposite of helping, though—he intakes a sharp breath, and pulls away from you, hands tight on your waist as he breaths hard. His eyes are closed, and the warm brown of his cheeks is made warmer by a tinge of red.

“Maybe we should slow down,” he says, sounding like that’s the opposite of what he wants to do. The grip he has on you seems to agree.

“If you want,” you say, but making the offer feels like pulling your own teeth. That low burn is beginning to spread, but insecurity suddenly threatens to poison it. Does he not want you?

It’s been a little like this throughout the span of your relationship. Even without any admissions, you know it’s pretty obvious that you don’t have much experience. And for the most part, his attention to the slow pace you set has been nothing but a relief—people could get weird about your needs, about what you hadn’t done, but Kyle makes you feel like the rhythm you set isn’t a strange one to dance to at all.

“Do you want to?” Kyle asks, opening his eyes to meet yours.

The insecurity dissolves. You can see it all over his face, in the crease of his brow—he doesn’t want to stop. He wants to keep you comfortable, even if he ends up unsatisfied. You feel like his expression is mirroring yours perfectly, painted stark and hot with aching want, and settling into that shared feeling is like sinking deep into a warm bath.

“No,” you whisper, hands moving to frame the sides of his neck.

He inhales again, less sharply. “Just say when, yeah?” he whispers back. The words are accompanied with a shift of his hips, a flutter of his hands on your waist.

“There isn’t a when,” you say, and then without thinking, “I want you to be my first, Gaz.”

He goes still. Blinks at you. “Oh.”

And instantly you regret opening your mouth. Your hands fall away, sliding down to his chest, curling into embarrassed fists. You look down. Of course it’s weird. Who was a virgin past eighteen these days? You know Kyle is experienced, unlike you—you’ve felt it every time he’s touched you, every time he’s slung an arm around you with the casual ease of someone who knew how to be with someone else. Shame and disappointment flood you, and that burn in your belly rapidly banks.

But his hands—broad, strong, and gentle—are on your face, bringing you back to him. “I would’ve thought—god, I mean, people must have thrown themselves at you!”

He’s smiling, wide and joyful, and it’s like seeing the sun rise. As quickly as it came, the embarrassment flees.

You smile too, the relief making you laugh, and refrain from correcting his generous assumption. “It just never felt right.”

He kisses you, swift and solid, but suddenly pulls away again, but you know this time it’s because he’s thought to say something. “And it feels right now?”

You nod, hands going back to his neck, lashes lowered a little demurely. “You feel right, Kyle.”

He surges forward again, lips finding the corner of your mouth and working toward your jaw. “Tell me the minute I do something you don’t like. Promise me, yeah? Promise.”

“I promise,” you gasp, as suddenly his teeth find the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You don’t think, in that moment as the burn suddenly roars back to life, that he could do a single thing to make keeping that promise necessary. “Kyle, that feels good.”

His lips part from your skin with a wet smack, move to give the hickey he’s just sucked into your skin a companion. “That’s the idea, love.”

Your hands find the expanse of his back as he presses you closer, fingers spreading over the flex and stretch of taut muscle, and you dig your nails in as a little moan leaves you. The tension you’d always felt is gone, and when you realize that it’s been there because he’s been holding back for you the entire time, your breath leaves your lungs.

“That feels good, too, love,” he says against your neck, smiling up at you when you look at him. “Always feels good when you touch me. Always. Didn’t want to scare you with that.”

You melt a little. “I’m never scared of you, Kyle.”

You don’t have the words to describe his expression. The smile has dropped away, but it’s been replaced with something you think borders on beatific. His eyes, warm and brown and soft, are seeing you against a backdrop of something else, something you know is bloody and ugly and a place of no pride. You don’t know the details—you don’t have the clearance—but you know enough.

You take his face in your hands as he pulls back. “Never,” you repeat.

His arms tighten around you like vices, and he leans forward again, kissing you hard. His tongue finds the edge of your teeth, licks into your mouth as his hands flex across your back and your fingers find the collar of his shirt. It feels illicit to delve beneath the flimsy cotton, to trace the shape of his muscles with your nails, but the purr of satisfaction he gives against your mouth tells you it’s exactly the right thing to do.

“Off,” you say between kisses, and the fabric complains as he yanks it up, pulls his arms and head out, and throws the thing away without a second look. You splay your hands across his chest, digging your nails into the swell of his muscles as he claims your mouth again, and his skin is blazing to touch. You think there’s a fire burning inside him, too, and in the back of your mind you wonder if his flat could burn down just from the two of you being together like this.

His arms sink lower around your body, traveling from waist to hips, and abruptly he’s pulling you forward, hands splayed across both ass cheeks, as he shifts his hips and settles back against the couch. The new position has your mons nestled against an interesting bulge at the front of his pants, but he doesn’t give you much time to blush or fluster about it.

“Ride me, love, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, the deep dark of his eyes alight with the firestorm whipping up between you.

You grasp his shoulders and lean in to seal your mouth over his again. His fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, hot on the already warm skin of your back. Encouraged, you pivot your hips a little, experimentally, and in synch the both of you groan at the sensation. His erection is almost perfectly aligned with the clothed seam of your pussy, the drag of it made simultaneously just perfect and not enough with the fabric’s friction. You grind down again, pressing your mouth harder against his, whimpering when his jaw opens and his tongue finds its way into the space beneath yours. He shifts his hips, pushing up into you a little, grabbing you by the ass again as you bear your clit down hard on what feels like it could be the head of his cock.

“Christ, love, that’s fucking perfect,” Kyle gasps, tendons in his neck pulled completely taut.

“Gaz, it feels so good,” you whine, pressing down harder, dragging against him, the need suddenly feverish.

His hands leave your shirt and wedge themselves into the back of your pants, eliciting a sharp gasp as he kneads the flesh. “This okay? You want these off?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, Kyle, please.”

It’s a clumsy job, and they end up hanging from one ankle because you cannot be bothered to do more than get them out of the way. Somewhere in the back of your head you want to laugh at how slapdash the both of you must look—him shirtless but still in sweatpants, you naked only from the waist down—but the rest of your mind is an inferno. As you settle back onto his lap, there’s only his clothes separating you from him now, and when you press your mons against him again the heat coming from his cock is breathtaking.

“We need a condom?” Kyle asks, spreading his big hands across your thighs.

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur, grinning at his foresight, blessing your lucky stars that you’d thought to take precautions as early as the first time you’d made out with him.

“Fuck yeah,” he enthuses, grinning back. “Option’s always open though. If we need it.”

That has you kissing him again, burrowing your hips into his, swallowing the sharp moan he gives as his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. You can almost imagine him throbbing against you—or is that your own pulse you feel, beating a rhythm between your folds? Heat floods your face at the thought, and a needy ache blooms quickly from your center.

You separate from him. “Kyle—touch me. Please?”

His hand goes to your sex like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Suddenly you’re fighting your own body, because your hips jerk away from him when his fingers slide through folds that you’re only now realizing are dripping wet. The pleasure is not dulled with fabric this time, not under the rhythm of your control, and it’s like flames are licking at your bare skin with the sensation of his touch. Every nerve is alive, alight with awareness.

“Sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

But he’s got a steady arm around you. His grin reappears, satisfied and almost smug. “That good, is it?” he teases, a lighter touch dragging again through the creases of you, curling his fingers into a sticky squelch that has you blushing furiously. “Shit, that is good.”

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.”

He forms his mouth around your pulse, the tip of his middle finger circling your clit without actually making contact. “You want my fingers, love?” They brush around the borders of your entrance. “Want me to get you ready?”

“I can take you,” you say, bearing down, trapping his hand between your pussy and his cock. “I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much. I promised, didn’t I?”

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, and searches your gaze. You don’t know what he sees, but his mouth finds yours again. “Jesus, darling. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.”

He withdraws his hand, and scoots you back a little by the hips. You can’t help staring as he pulls his waistband down, showing a small dusting of curly pubic hair, and pulls his cock free with one hand. The burn almost peaks then and there, because the sight of it standing like that, rigid, the head of it smeared glossy with precum, is almost too much to take. He’s hard, hard because of you, hard because of what you’d been doing together.

Your trace your fingers along its length, almost lightheaded, before remembering that he’s been so good about staying at your pace. “Is this okay?” you ask, your touch lingering at the base. You want to show him the same consideration he’s shown you—want him to know how precious it has been by giving him the same.

His breath comes out unevenly, and he presses his forehead to yours—you think he understands. “Better than okay. Fuck.”

You stroke him again, lingering at the dip between shaft and corona, and your brows shoot up when his cock twitches in response. Your breath is suddenly shaky in your chest, shallow, and your throat feels dry when you finally speak. You hadn’t known that could happen. The implications have the blood roaring in your ears.

“How—” and you have to lick your lips, “—how do we do this?”

You look up at his face again, and his lips part in a smile that’s so tender it makes your heart hurt. “Come here.”

He helps you lift up on your knees, and you want to whimper at how easy it is for him to hold you steady with one hand while the other takes ahold of his cock. There is barely any space between the head of it and your folds. You swear you can feel the heat of it radiating out toward your skin, as if it’s stretching out to find you.

“Help me in, alright?” Kyle murmurs, hand tightening on your hip, the pressure comforting.

You grip his bare shoulder with one hand and reach down, finding your entrance—you’re familiar enough with that—and spreading your folds. As you lower yourself, trembling less than you might have without his support, you feel the head of his cock pass between the splay of your fingers, spreading them wider, and then your entrance surrounds him.

“Good,” Kyle breathes, “so good. You’re doing amazing.”

Lower. You feed him into yourself in centimeters, carefully, but it’s like you were made to take him—your body gives no resistance, the dripping slick you’re coated with welcoming him eagerly, hungrily. You toss your pace to the wind and push down, taking him to the root.

The moan that leaves you is long and loud as he hisses “Fuck!” in your ear. The hand that had been around his cock slaps against your ass, and you feel him go rigid beneath you, feel his shoulders go tight, feel his thighs flex beneath you as his grip on your body turns to iron. He’s hot and thick inside you, and deep, deeper than your fingers have ever been able to reach. You’re sure of it now—you can feel the his pulse in you, thrumming against your walls like the beat of a drum.

You find your breath somehow as the two of you sit motionless for a heartbeat.

Then he’s huffing a laugh. “Warn a guy next time, love! Shit, you feel incredible.”

You laugh too, and it’s followed by a gasp as you can feel yourself laughing around him. “Told you I could take you!” you pant.

He grins at you, showing his teeth, and nips at your jaw. “Fucking minx. Take the rest then, too, aye?”

You pivot your hips, already practiced from before, and give a cry as you finally register the stretch of your walls around him. It’s a good stretch, a burn that you’re sure is going to sear you from the inside. Your thighs are shaking a little, tight with a building pressure that threatens to combust, and Kyle gives a push upward with his hips.

“I got you,” he says, and his voice is low and breathy as he wraps both hands around your waist. “Go ahead. Take what you need. We’ll get you there.”

You pivot again, and pleasure radiates from your core from where your bodies are joined. You don’t need to think about it too much as you roll your hips, back and forth, falling forward to drape yourself across Kyle’s chest as you wrap your arms around his shoulders for leverage. One heavy arm loops around your back, and you’re squealing as his free hand is at your sex again, two fingers pressing into your clit as his hips rock, as ever, to match your rhythm.

Your breath is coming fast. The heat between your bodies is humid, heavy, settling slick across your skin as you move together. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, whimpering, panting, grinding your hips down as the muscles in your back and thighs pull tighter and tighter, as something in your core winds itself up with so much tension you wonder how far it can actually go. You’ve come before, with a vibrator, with your own hands, but it’s never been like this.

“Kyle,” you say, and it comes out as the neediest whine you have ever heard yourself make. “I’m so close, oh my god…”

“I can feel it,” he says, thrusting up into you with new momentum. “You’re almost there, love, it’s alright—shit, you feel good—come on, darling, come for me—Fuck!”

The tension snaps. Your breath escapes you in one sharp, long gasp, carrying a wordless cry out of your mouth, and then you can’t make any sound at all. Your orgasm floods your whole body, fireworks of ecstasy lighting up across your nerves in a sweeping crescendo, bursting to life behind your closed eyes, dancing for moments before winking out to make room for more. For one, singular moment, you feel every nerve ending beneath your skin blaze with pleasure, and wonder if this was how stars came to life.

You finally cry out, panting hard against Kyle’s skin, when you regain the use of your voice. He’s pistoning into you from below, and you only have a little time to gather yourself to watch his face before his hips shove up into yours, almost lifting the both of you completely off the couch, as he comes with a strained growl.

The expression he’s making is indescribable. Everything you’d felt in that climax, you see playing out in the draw of his brows, in the hang of his jaw. Had he looked like that the whole time? You experience an unexpected moment of disappointment, as the pleasure ebbs. You’d been very focused on you. You’d missed what was happening to him.

You’re both breathing hard. You tighten your arms around him, stricken suddenly with that old shyness, when he starts to pepper your neck with soft little kisses, and that eases the disappointment. You come back to yourself, to the both of you, as his hands are traveling across your back, splayed wide, stroking the sweaty fabric of your shirt. His body is still warm beneath you—still warm inside you—and for now, it’s enough.

“That was incredible,” Kyle says into your skin, “Christ, that was perfect. You were perfect.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “So were you,” you say, soft and a little tender. He turns his head to look at you, still resting against his shoulder. You realize you’re smiling, when he smiles back—and you lift your head to press your brow to his. “Thank you,” you whisper.

His lips find yours, soft and sweet. You know he understands.

You’re both sticky, glistening with sweat, and a little dizzy from the climax. This isn’t so unfamiliar a feeling—you and Kyle were known to exercise together—but when the two of you finally break apart, as he slips out of your body, you discover two things.

One, you feel horribly empty without him inside you. Your belly is still thrumming, and you realize that low burn has not gone out.

And two, Kyle is nowhere near flaccid. It isn’t the rigid mast it had been earlier, but like you, Kyle isn’t quite sated.

He sees you studying him, still on the couch after you’ve stood up, and smiles at you. You know what he’s about to say even before he says it.

“Told you I can’t get enough of you.”

You give a breathless laugh. Because now, you’re very interested in going at his pace instead.

[kaigarax]

Wishes and Hopes

Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love without words."

My Dearest,

I could never tell stories as masterfully as you. You, with your beautiful white ivory keys and elegantly composed melodies. But sometimes, I like to think of myself as an artist. With words as my notes, stringing together the songs in my heart.

Yours Truly

---

When Vinsmoke Sanji first sees you he’s nothing but a boy pushed to the back of the kitchen watching through the small circular window on the door.

Chef Zeff always did get annoyed when Sanji didn’t pay the utmost attention to his cooking (which truthfully didn’t happen that often) but one could really only expect so much when it came to the attention span of a young boy. Children, much like the kind that Sanji had been at the time, were rather curious things especially when it came to things that they were told to ignore.

A restaurant on the seas is most certainly going to garner attention. The attention of the locals wanting to see the boat that has docked upon their shores; the attention of pirates in search for a meal upon the mischievous ocean; and the attention of marines curious about the newest big thing.

There was no shortage of different characters that decided to enter the restaurant.

Chef Zeff, being a former pirate, wasn’t the most keen on serving marines but even his own discomfort wasn’t enough to override his code or morale. Anyone hungry on his doorstep would be fed.

While marines did come by it wasn’t often that anyone of note actually came around. So of course a young Sanji’s curiosity would push him to the door separating the kitchen staff from the customers when someone of note did come around.

It was… a vice-admiral or something? Or at least that was what one of the serves had uttered out while running into the kitchen to inform Chef Zeff. And of course, Sanji hadn’t meant to ease drop but it was only common knowledge that one needed to have an attentive ear if they hoped to work in an active kitchen; and a kitchen upon the sea was no different.

He doesn’t notice you at first, though that might have to do with the fact that you’re trailing after two very tall and lanky fellows. The buffer of the two men wears a tacky white cape on his back with a dog shaped hat on his head. He seems awfully jovial, laughing loudly about something to the waiter as he takes his seat. The other man is dressed in a similar outfit only a little slimmer and with that same tacky white cape on his back. He’s much more modest as he follows the buffer fellow with a serious expression, seeming almost hesitant as he looks around.

It isn’t until both men have sat down does Sanji notice you.

And the first thing he notices happens to be how pretty you really are. With brilliantly bright eyes and a warm smile that you give to the waiter as he pushes your chair in for you.

His heart, for the first time, flutters.

You sit with your hands politely in your lap as you read over the restaurant menu. You’re awfully quiet with a calm expression on your face as you take a seat. You only speak when spoken to and your voice comes out as soft melodic notes.

You order the soup -which he made- and the fried rice.

This is, of course, not the only time his heart will flutter in such a way but it is the first and that has to count for something, right?

---

The second time Sanji sees you he doesn’t recognize you.

He’d gone out on a grocery run with Chef Zeff. Something about a special order for a specific ingredient that they didn’t have on hand which resulted in Sanji getting dragged out of the kitchen and into a small boat as the two of them sailed off towards whatever the heck the nearest Island happened to be.

It’s been maybe… five years since he’s last seen you? He’s not really sure. Keeping track of time has never been on the top of Sanji’s priorities. Not while he’s been busy learning the ways of the kitchen.

Both you and him have grown a lot in those five years. He’s no longer that boy pushed into the back of the kitchen. Sure, he’s still pretty gangly and lanky (stuck in that awkward phase between being a child and an adult) but he likes to think that he’s grown into his features pretty well. Or, at the very least, has learned to style himself much better than he had before. And yes, he’s still getting dragged around but he won’t always be!

You, on the other hand, seemed to have quickly graduated from the side of the two men that you had been following around earlier. You walk around the marketplace alone, with your hands behind your back like you’re an old woman, with a curious look. You’re also, Sanji notices, a lot prettier. He thinks that you look good with your hair pushed back and your lips tilted upwards in a warm smile as you listen to one of the shopkeepers attempt to sell you the product.

Sanji bets you’d be good at dancing. From the way you easily maneuver yourself through the bustling crowd to the way you easily jump up to grab something from the top shelf for a young boy. Your movements are smooth and fluid.

Honestly, it reminds Sanji a little of Chef Zeff though he isn’t all too sure why. Maybe it has something to do with the preciseness of your movements? That there’s no wasted movements or pointless actions. Be quickly brushes the idea off as there’s nothing about it that is of any particular interest to him.

While Chef Zeff is seemingly occupied with trying to negotiate the price of the ingredient, Sanji thinks that now is a better time than ever to make his move. His first instinct is to make his way over to you and lay on the charm but is stopped as Zeff quickly grabs onto the back of his shirt before smacking him on the back of the head lightly. Sanji pouts in response but knows better than to make a scene. He’d actually gotten off rather easily considering that he’d usually get a kick to the head with Chef Zeff’s wooden leg seemingly only spared because of the presence of other people.

Besides, there will be plenty of other beautiful girls that he’ll see in his life.

It isn’t until years later that he realises that you were that same young girl from years ago.

---

The third time Sanji sees you he’s determined to speak to you.

He doesn’t.

Though, not for lack of trying.

It’s a usual grocery run that Sanji’s gone on when he notices you from a distance. A few of the sue-chefs had been selected to go into town and Sanji had tagged along because of a few things (clothes mostly) that he wanted to pick up and didn’t trust anyone else with getting for him. It was mostly because he didn’t want to inconvenience his fellow chefs with such mundane tasks but that was something that he’d never admit to them unless at gunpoint. And even then it was still up for debate.

He thinks about calling out to you but thinks that that would probably make you run away from him instead of go towards him. For one, he’s a stranger to you and secondly, you’re walking around the streets late at night by yourself. Any woman is bound to run when a strange man approaches you.

You’re carrying a bundle of grocery bags in your hand as you head where Sanji assumes to be your home.

His second thought is to approach you and ask if you need help bringing your groceries home. But then again that would probably come off as creepy. Once again, because the two of you are strangers it isn’t likely that you’ll take the news very well.

Worse case scenario, you run away screaming and calling him a creep.

Best case scenario, you politely turn him down and never speak to him again.

He’s pretty sure he ends up as a creep regardless of the scenario so decides that it’s probably best to avoid that route all together.

The third option is to make a scenario where you bump into him. Maybe he would knock something down and then save you before it can hit you over the head. Or maybe he could arrange the terrain so that you trip and then he can catch you in his arms before you fall over making him look like a charming prince.

No.

That feels wrong too.

And it’s definitely morally wrong on almost every front. Not just does it involve deception but it would also take advantage of you after he put you into a certain kind of situation. Besides, he can already hear Chef Zeff scolding him for coming up with such a stupid idea in the first place.

Sanji isn’t a slimy kind of guy and in fact prides himself as someone who protects women from those kinds of men. Not go and become one of those men himself, despite the fact that you happen to be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

So, ultimately, Sanji ends up not talking to you. The right situation just didn’t seem to appear. No amount of hoping and praying will just suddenly make a situation appear where Sanji doesn’t come off as a creepy weirdo so he ends up just watching. Okay, even watching feels creepy now - which is how Sanji ends up making his way back to the other chefs, sullen and downtrodden, without the items he left to buy, and without having spoken a single word to you.

---

The fourth time Sanji sees you is when he realises that he’s absolutely smitten. Head over heels in love with the girl that’s haunted his dreams for years. By then you’re a fully grown woman and he’s a dashing young man. Or at least he considers himself a dashing young man. The views of his crewmates (which absolutely don’t bother him at all) would most certainly beg to differ.

You’re so much prettier than you had been back when the two of you were still gangly teens and certainly much prettier than you had been when the two of you were kids just beginning to find your places in this world.

You’re dressed in a pretty outfit, loose fitting and breezy. Not something usually seen on women that traverse the seven seas. Sanji thinks that the contrast makes you stand out amongst all the other beautiful women he’s seen.

There’s a camera around your neck and a book strapped to your side as you follow Sanji’s hyperactive captain around. He practically drags you along by the wrist and Sanji uncharacteristically finds himself unable to approach and speak to you. The words get caught in his throat before he can even think to find them.

To Sanji’s surprise, you keep up with his hyperactive captain well. There’s a calm look on your face and an elegance to your movements that he recognizes from before. You don’t even seem to stumble over your own feet as you make your way through the streets of the city.

From Sanji’s own experience, he knows that his captain isn’t the most gentle person. Especially when it comes to the safety and health of others. His heart’s in the right place just… not always his mind.

When your eyes meet with Sanji’s he thinks that his heart stops beating momentarily.

You smile so prettily and softly that Sanji literally falls on his feet as the words get caught in his throat.

That’s the kind of smile that Sanji’s been dreaming about for years.

The kind that he can imagine waking up to every morning.

Sanji thinks that if that’s the last thing he ever sees he’ll die happy. That’s just the kind of smile you have. How pretty you seem to him.

His heart flutters in his chest dramatically.

And… oh.

Fall in love without words.

---

Him: A better question is how long will you love me.

[millie-mar]

the stranger things i hate about you

chapter two: eddie ‘the freak’ munson

| 1,4k words | 10 things i hate about you!steddie |

The canteen ‘whispers’ and sounds of trays smacking the tables were always calming for Eddie. Considering the fact that most of his school life he has been alone and couldn’t even get a spot at a table in Hawkins High, the sound of the school’s canteen was a kind of reminder of how far he’s come. That paired with the excited chatter coming from his comrades at the table was enough for him to feel accomplished. In the past year he’s gained friends for life, thanks to his role-play gaming club and the band he’s put together with ‘the outcasts’ of Hawkins High, Gareth, Jeff and F. Maybe by the end of this year, which happens to be his last, he’ll become school’s new icon. Well, it is just his wishful thinking. He creates those little scenarios where he turns from a ‘nobody’ into someone big in a span of a couple weeks. All the while he’s actually playing with what is presumably mac and cheese.

Eddie’s friends can see that lately, their ‘leader’ has been more in thought than usual. Of course, Eddie Munson is known for constantly being in his own world, but not to the point where he doesn’t even react to Dustin Henderson trying to look into the notes for their DnD campaign. The group suspects that either something bad has happened, or Eddie is dating someone. The latter has caused the group to laugh when discussing the matter, they haven’t seen him with anyone, ever.

‘Eddie, my man, you good?’ Gareth asks.

‘Yeah’ is Eddie’s only reply, he’s clearly not in the mood for casual talk today.

‘It’s just that, you suddenly went all gloomy on us,’ Mike chips in, putting a fry in his mouth. Dustin steals some from Wheeler’s tray, causing the boy to slap him on the arm.

Usually in situations like that, Eddie would be the first to stop the youngest members of the group, but something else has caught his attention.

‘See, you’re even ignoring the Mike-Dustin bitch-slapping. What the hell’s going on Munson?’ Gareth keeps pressing, hoping to get a reaction out of him, but he gets nothing. Eddie is so engrossed in whatever got in his sight, nothing could get his attention off it.

Gareth follows Eddie’s line of sight, catching a glimpse of a tall, dark-blonde, ex-star of the basketball team. He leaned in, whispering to Eddie.

‘We’ve talked about this. Steve Harrington is another one of these jackasses who think they’re better than anyone else’ Gareth tries to be as quiet as possible so that no one from the table could hear him, but Eddie.

‘I know.’ It’s like Eddie has woken up from a dream, back to the dreary reality. He’s fully aware of what Steve Harrington has done to him. Well, he hasn’t hurt Munson physically, but his general snarky comments did leave a dent in his mind.

‘Wow, he’s alive.’ Gareth snarls, his brown curls caught in his eyes as he turns his head away.

‘Real funny, Gary.’ The tension between the two is so thick, it attracts the attention from the rest of the table. ‘Just because that’s the reality doesn’t mean I can’t wonder what could have happened if things were different. You know I have a wild imagination.’ Eddie flashes a fake smile at his best friend. He puts the fork in his still full plate, gets up and starts walking away. ‘See u guys seven.’ He waves, his back to their table, and leaves the canteen.

Trees loom over the school area, separating it from the rest of the world, yet another prison for Eddie. He has been arrested at least twice since reaching his adulthood last year, and thanks to that he can confirm that school is just a prison with more pleasant looking surroundings. Maybe that’s why he cannot escape his bad habits of selling and smoking weed in the woods behind the building. It has been his trading spot since he’s started the business at the beginning of junior year. Being penniless in his late teens has led him to this easy and quick job and he couldn’t stop since.

The spot in the woods has also become a place where Eddie can be alone. He can overthink and smoke all he wants without being interrupted. So when he arrives at his table, he’s quick to take out the last joint he has, and light it up as quickly as possible. However he hasn’t realised one thing; he’s not alone.

Steve could feel someone watching him in canteen earlier, but he didn’t care to look, too afraid of others’ judgement. He just kept walking, wondering how to get Eddie Munson to as much as talk to him, not even thinking about getting the guy to hang out with him. Steve knows Eddie hasn’t forgotten the damage Tommy’s group, including him, has caused. Wouldn’t what he’s going to do cause even more? Technically Steve wants to apologise and befriend the guy, so misunderstood and anxious. Steve can understand that much, considering himself to be in the same situation Eddie has once been, but he can’t tell him that. It’d only anger him.

Steve anxiously wanders the school corridor, back and forth, constantly passing the doors to the canteen he has gone through not so long ago. He stops abruptly and walks back to them, opening them slightly and peeking in. He scans the heads at the tables, finally catching a glimpse of dark curls, their owner leaving the room, waving his hand to someone. Steve, not sure who the recipient is, adds a mental note for himself to check who Eddie hangs out with, that’d make his objective a lot easier. He considers entering the canteen again to follow him, but the fear of others acknowledging his presence is too overwhelming, so he decides to go the round way, having a slight idea of where Eddie could have gone.

That’s how Steve arrives in the woods behind the school, a place for the druggies of Hawkins High. Usually he’s staying away from this spot, it wouldn’t have been good for his ‘good guy’ reputation. Not that it matters anymore, which is why he walks through the narrow path, covered by the branches and a bit of high grass. A small streak of light almost guiding the way to the spot where students of Hawkins High can buy drugs from no other than Eddie himself.

Taking each step as quietly as he can, Steve arrives at his destination, standing behind a tree and scanning the area to find Eddie sitting on a picnic table. A cloud of smoke surrounding the guy, scent so strong, Steve can smell it from where he is hiding. A delicate wind is causing Eddie’s dark curls to float everywhere uncontrollably, his nose scrunching in annoyance, hands covered in many silver rings trying to calm the mess on his head. Steve pays attention to all the smallest details in this guy's behaviour, all his small mannerisms like constant turning of the ring on his index finger, or how he leans back on the table, arms supporting him behind his back, a joint between his teeth, but no smoke coming out. He’s just taking deep breaths and keeping them in for a bit before breathing out slowly, taking his time. Steve is not sure how long he’s been here, staring at him, but he feels like he can’t approach him now. A weird feeling of embarrassment washing over him. So the blonde takes a step back, a loud crunch echoes against the silence, the sound bouncing off the trees. A quiet ‘fuck’ escapes him before he hears Eddie’s voice calling out to him.

‘Who’s there? If you want to buy shit, you have to tell me in advance. Didn’t bring anything with me.’ Eddie’s quick to assume, considering the only people that would come to a place so clearly regarded as his were druggies in dire need of an escape from this shitty world. His words not mine.

Without a word, Steve steps out from his hiding spot, coming face to face with Eddie Munson for the first time in two years. His palms start to sweat as he looks anywhere but at the guy in front of him.

Eddie is doing quite the opposite, staring at the boy intensely. ‘Fuck me, my eyes must be deceiving me. If this isn’t Steve Fucking Harrington.’

Eddie, so shocked seeing the blonde, doesn’t even realise he dropped the joint. However Steve realises immediately, and he watches the roach die out among leaves and grass, like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, all the while wondering, what has he gotten himself into?

|also sorry for any mistakes, english isn’t my first language|

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