#but this has happened before. where i go to sleep early for a change and end up waking up hours before my alarm

[shinsocest]

No. 003

♡ AKA: "Fated" ♡

Notes: another from my archive :) I originally wrote for a friend of mine. Also @boosyboo9206 I remembered while drafting that the Kuroo one had a lot of this au's context so we out here rawdogging the fics understanding lmao.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: fem reader, soulmate au, alpha/omega dynamics, shameless use of the Terushima scene, no protection, explicit consent (but for those who don't fully get abo its probably dubcon), Hajime type behavior but very soft imo. Just a very self indulgent alpha Iwaizumi fic.

Iwaizumi glowers at nothing as the bass thumps around him.

Well, not nothing. If he had to choose, he’s definitely glowering at Shittykawa, even though he can’t find the annoying bastard. Iwaizumi might be at a party but he isn’t really having the greatest time. He’s only there because Oikawa dragged him to scope out their rival frat’s party, the first of the new semester.

He wasn’t in the mood for any of it; Iwaizumi would have preferred to be at home studying and going to sleep early enough for a pre-workout before practice tomorrow. So everything is pissing him off. He can’t find Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki are too busy joyfully causing everyone to stare, the two alphas shamelessly making out on the couch, and this is the third fucking time they’ve played this song in the last half an hour. Who cares if it's popular?

Iwaizumi is stuck prowling the house looking for the brunet alpha so he can drag him out of here by the scruff of the neck. There’s hardly a difference between this party and any of the other’s that they’ve thrown themselves. Being here is fucking pointless.

As he’s rounding the corner, finally escaping the sitting room and its herbal smoke cloud, Iwaizumi gets a whiff of distress scent. As faint as it is, it's enough to make him turn around to search it out. It seems to be coming from a pretty omega, fingers wrapped too firmly around a plastic cup, cornered against the wall by a familiar blonde undercut. Iwaizumi can see the polite annoyance plastered across your face, the firm shake of your head as you deny whatever advances Terushima seems to be making. As assertive as you appear, Iwaizumi can smell your anxiety, the sour ripple of your scent burning faintly in his nose and blocking out something sweeter that lingers beneath it all. The rival fraternity president doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.

Iwaizumi growls under his breath. He’s not in the mood for this. Even on a good day he can’t ignore this stereotypical alpha behavior, but today has not been a good day.

There’s no hesitation as he changes direction towards the pair. He can feel the red creep into his vision as Terushima wraps a hand around your wrist, trying to entice you closer to the pounding music where people are dancing, not letting go even when you dig your heels in to remain rooted in place.

He gets close enough for his voice to be heard and throws his scent out. The potent, pissed scent of a territorial alpha. Conversation dies in the throats of everyone nearby as they catch wind of it. Terushima’s shoulders stiffen at the strength of it and he turns, in the same moment as Iwaizumi speaks, gruff and deep,

“Baby, who’s this guy? He bothering you?”

He hopes you get it.

Both of you snap their heads to him, Terushima’s smile dropping immediately while your eyes widen in relief. Iwaizumi relaxes as you take the bait, quickly scooting around Terushima to snake your arm around his. Some people look on curiously, but most skitter off and mind their business.

Good, it’s not a fucking show, Iwaizumi growls internally.

“What took you so long,” you pout at him and Iwaizumi almost grins at how easily you slip into the role—but then he remembers how often this crap must happen for this to be necessary and the upturn of his lip disappears. He levels a heavy stare at the other alpha as he responds.

“The guys held me up, I came as soon as I could.”

“Thought you said you came alone?” Terushima throws out casually.

Your fingers tighten around his forearm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t meeting anyone. You didn’t seem too interested in listening to what I had to say.”

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at that, glad you were brave enough to put the other alpha in his place. The pain in Terushima’s uneasy smile as he forces a laugh soothes some of the anger simmering in Iwaizumi’s veins, and his shoulders relax as Terushima makes some half-assed excuse about checking to make sure the kitchen was stocked.

Once the blonde disappears, Iwaizumi turns to you, gently slipping his arm out of yours. He eyes you with concern.

“You okay?” You’re shaking slightly. Eyes wide, slightly wet, and a little unfocused. His concern grows immensely, glancing at your drink. “Did he give you that? Do I need to take you somewhere?”

Those words seem to shake you out of it. “No,” your voice is low, the tremor to it barely audible over the music. “I got this for myself, and I kept it away from him. I’m just—he made me nervous is all. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”

Your trembling hasn’t stopped, even though your voice grows stronger as you speak, that anxious scent of yours spiking through your scent blockers. He can see the little patch now that he is closer, and realizes how scared you must still be if it’s getting through.

“He was being a dick. Anyone would’ve done it,” Iwaizumi mutters, ducking his head as his cheeks warm visibly. The way you eye around the room nervously unconsciously brings more words to his lips. “Were you meeting anyone? I could help you find them.”

Slowly, you shake your head, worrying your lower lip. “My friends cancelled last minute. I wasn’t even planning to come tonight and honestly... I’d rather be home. I just don’t wanna risk running into him again.” You lower your head, looking embarrassed.

Iwaizumi can’t think of a single reason why you should be.

Again, he speaks before he thinks.

“I could walk you home if you want.”

“Really?” Your head pops up, mouth dropping open a little in surprise.

“I mean, I was leaving soon anyway. I didn’t want to come tonight either,” Iwaizumi admits. “I could call you a ride if that’s more comfortable. It’s not like you know—” His mouth snaps shut awkwardly. He hasn’t even introduced himself yet. “—Sorry. I’m Iwaizumi.”

You warm at the abashed expression on the handsome alpha’s face, your heart fluttering slightly.

His heart rate picks up in return as you give him your name.

“I don’t mind if you walk me home,” you say shyly. “It’s not far, if you still want to.”

Iwaizumi pulls out his phone and shoots identical messages to each of his friends explaining where he was going and telling them not to stay out too late. He didn’t want to wake up to them stumbling into their shared house drunk and waking him up.

The walk is short, but not awkward. It’s filled with easy chatter, simple questions and revelations that always seem to come up when you meet someone new. You’re easy to talk to, and Iwaizumi is oddly disappointed when you stop and gesture to the apartment complex next to you.

“This is me.”

Iwaizumi blinks. He… doesn’t want to leave. He can’t explain the feeling, this insistent pull towards you, but it would be incredibly inappropriate for him to ask for more of your time this late. Dipping his head, he murmurs a goodbye and starts to turn, but he feels a small hand gripping the waist of his shirt.

He turns in surprise to see you've frozen. You look more than a little lost, as if you aren't sure what came over you. He waits for you to speak.

“C-can I have your number? It was nice meeting you, and I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay?” By the time the words are done tumbling from your lips, your voice has risen to an uncertain squeak.

A little shocked by the turn of events, but gratified nonetheless, the brunet alpha offers you his number, trying to keep his grip on the goofy, pleased smile that he can feel trying to form on his lips.

“You can call me any time.”

For the first time tonight, his eyes slide down to your outfit, only just beginning to appreciate the way the fabric of your skirt shows off your legs, resting tastefully at mid-thigh. Not a skirt, Iwaizumi realizes, but a cinched dress, hugging each line and curve of your body, modestly covered by a half-jacket. The warm scent of chocolate wafts under his nose and he gets a little lost in studying you, something burning hot within him as he imagines what it would be like to peel the fabric from your body, how warm your skin would be against his own.

Iwaizumi blinks.

It takes a moment to realize how close you’ve gotten. Then Iwaizumi feels the heat radiating off your skin, and his eyes flick to your own, staring at him just as intently. He clears his throat softly and steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets. He mutters a quiet goodnight and starts heading home, and nothing short of stupid alpha pride bursts in his chest when he turns his head to see that your eyes are following him. He hopes you don’t wait too long to call.

The house is quiet when Iwaizumi finally makes it back. There’s already a text on his phone from a new number, and he smiles as he sends a quick message in return. It’s only through the sheer force of will that he manages to fall asleep that night, closing his eyes firmly and ignoring the sudden urge to dig through the cabinets for something sweet.

Iwaizumi wakes up sweating. At first, he believes that the air conditioning has been turned off, but when he stumbles into the hallway, he finds it running at a cool twenty-three. He’s nearly vibrating in his skin, wondering what woke him. The digital clock on his nightstand reads 3:17. He fell asleep almost four hours ago, so there’s no reason he should be awake. A sweet scent wafts around him, faint but nonetheless catching Iwaizumi’s full attention. He mindlessly prowls towards his hamper and his fingers close around the tank top he discarded tonight. The warm scent of chocolate assaults him and his knees buckle.

A growl tears at his throat.

He’s growled before and often, a bad alpha trait that his parents did their best to train him out of, with general success when you think about who he had to grow up with. Lord knows he’s had every reason to, between Shittykawa and the meme team duo as friends. But this is different. The faint sweet scent brings with it a feeling beyond fathoming, and an itch, a drive that up until now he’s only heard stories about. It’s powerful, a true force of nature, a howling urge inside him to run to the one fate has decided is his. There’s no doubt in his mind who sparked this feeling as he presses the fabric of his discarded shirt to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent is already fading and that brings a rush of panic to his system. He needs you.

In his haste to locate his phone, Iwaizumi slams his shin against the corner of his dresser, cursing at the immediate pain that blossoms up the limb as he finds your contact and calls. He’d bet his soul that you’re awake, the primitive energy buzzing beneath his skin too transcendent for him to be feeling it alone.

It feels like an eternity as he stands there, breath caught in his throat. You answer on the fourth ring.

“Iwaizumi.”

“Are you okay?” He spares no pretense; from the single word alone, Iwaizumi knows. Your voice is hoarse, and not just because it's the middle of the night. There’s raw need scratching at your throat, a desperation that his body mirrored the moment he heard your voice.

“I… what is this? Please, it’s so hot.”

Iwaizumi is already throwing clothes on, the phone pinned between his chin and shoulder as he shoves his leg through into a pair of sweats. “You know what this is. I’m—” on my way. He freezes for a moment. Do you even want him to come? Soulmate or no, you have no idea who he is. You… might not want him. “—Do you want me there?”

“Iwaizumi…” Your breath is heavy and panting through the receiver, and then there’s a soft gasp, followed by the faintest moan. When he thinks about why you might be making those sounds... Iwaizumi thinks his blood might be on fire.

“Do. You. Want. Me. There?” He can’t help but bite the words out, can’t help but demand an answer. He has to know now before he loses to the animalistic urges inside him. If you tell him no, a small part of him might go deranged, but he’d do whatever it took. Rut or no rut, he’d have Shittykawa strap him to the bed before he did anything against your wishes.

“Please. Please come.” Fuck. The sound of your voice, so small, pleading. Frantic. “Iwaizumi, I need you.”

“Hajime.” Now Iwaizumi’s voice is hoarse. “You can call me Hajime.”

“Alpha—” There’s a broken moan, followed by a frustrated wail.

Iwaizumi inhales sharply. “Did you just—?

“Please hurry. ‘S hot, hurts without you. Feels wrong.”

He’s already out the door. It’s not until the dawn air raises goosebumps across his skin that Iwaizumi realizes he didn’t even grab a shirt.

“Hajime?”

“I’m still here. I won’t hang up. Just… Pretend it’s me, I’m already on my way.”

“Trying, ‘m trying. God it’s not—” Your voice is driving Iwaizumi insane. Labored, pained. He should be there and you shouldn’t sound like this. He should be holding you, inside you, until there’s nothing left to feel but—

Fuck. Fuck.

Iwaizumi inhales slowly, trying to calm his racing thoughts as he reaches the end of the street. “How many fingers?”

“W-what?”

His voice lowers to deep rumble, “How many fingers are fucking your pussy right now, omega?”

Your answering whine tells him that he has your attention now. “Ahn, t-two.”

"Good girl, add another. Reach as deep as you can and don't stop touching your clit. I wouldn’t do that." Iwaizumi's breath is coming heavy as he just about tears across campus, glad it's still early enough that no one is walking the grounds yet to hear him spewing such filth.

"It's—It's not enough—" Your broken mewling is so miserable that it stops him in his tracks, trying to keep his voice steady so he can console you.

"I know, I know baby, I'm so sorry." The pet name slips from his tongue without really thinking, his feet already carrying him forward again. "I'm coming as fast as I can. I'll be there soon, it'll be okay."

"Hur—ahn—H-hurry."

Fucking hell. Iwaizumi feels the threads of guilt that such a pathetic sound sends a blazing heat down his spine, centering on his groin. He can't help it; hiccuping sobs and moans, paired with the mental image of you desperately thrusting your fingers into your cunt, trying to make up for the weight of the knot you can't provide for yourself—Iwaizumi's canines ache. He doesn't hang up the phone, continuing to talk to you over your sounds of distress as he approaches your apartment complex.

Then he’s inside, hesitating in the doorway of the lobby, and you stutter out your apartment number. Third floor. Desperation prickles within him now that he’s so close so Iwaizumi doesn’t wait for the elevator, bounding up the stairwell, two steps at a time.

He can already smell you, your scent is coating almost the whole floor. He reaches for the handle of your door and growls under his breath. The door is locked, barring him from you.

“Baby girl,” Iwaizumi strains, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “You gotta open the door.”

There’s a small thump on the other end of the line and he calls your name again. You’re slurring into the receiver, nearly sobbing, a loud tremor in your weak voice.

“I can’t. My legs are shaking, alpha please—Hajime.”

Damn it. Iwaizumi inhales then puffs out a breath of air, trying to psyche himself up. His mate needs him. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Listen, I will fix and pay for everything, promise.”

“Fix…? Hajime, what are you—”

Iwaizumi feels bad but he hangs up, slinging his phone into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he pulls one leg back and aims a heavy kick on the door, close to the doorknob. The wood crunches, the latch protesting under the assault, but the door doesn’t open. Praying to the gods that the neighbors are heavy sleepers, Iwaizumi does it again, and again, and again, until the door crashes open, the metal doorknob broken and dangling from the splintered doorway.

Wincing apologetically at the obvious damage, Iwaizumi pushes inside and attempts to close the door, before giving up and dragging the small table in the entry to keep it from swinging open again. Your scent is so much stronger inside, layered upon itself from months of domesticity. The alpha in him purrs when he finds that it's your scent alone in the space. The thick cloud of arousal and distress leads him straight to your bedroom like he’s hooked by an iron tether.

His plan on the way here was to help you, to comfort you and hold you, to give you what pleasure he could without actually fucking you—just to be what you needed until your heat was over. He wanted to keep the alpha in him under lock and key. He knows heats can make omegas forget the real world, how desperate a heat can make them. Even if he’s destined to be your mate, he wanted to be sure you didn’t feel forced, by him or nature. But the sight that awaits him causes his mind to go entirely blank.

“Please, nngh—Alpha, I—I need you. I can’t anymore, hurts so bad please.”

You’d tried to leave the bed when he called to be let in, tumbled to your bedroom floor tangled between blankets and soft-looking sweaters in what looks like an attempt at nesting. There’s a throw blanket curled around your waist, a comforter under your head, but your lower half is in plain view, braced on your knees and bared to him. His imagination on the way over couldn’t compare but you’re just as he imagined you, fingers thrusting frantically in your soaked cunt, whimpering into the blankets around you. As soon as he enters the room, your trembling intensifies as your tear-soaked gaze locks onto his hungry stare. A desperate keen bubbles in your throat as your thighs tense and shake, and in response his low growl rolls like gentle thunder throughout the room as he watches more slick gush down your thighs.

“Little omega,” he rumbles, striding deeper into the room and kneeling beside you. “Did you just cum for your alpha?” There’s no more hesitation. It’s as if the missing piece of his life has clicked into place. His mate is right in front of him, her body calling out to him for the relief and comfort that only he can give. And he is going to give it to you.

You nod up at him, relaxing immediately as his dominating scent covers you more effectively than any blanket. The cinnamon and fire scent breathes strength and reassurance, promising to take care of you. You purr thickly as his hands smooth over your thighs, thumbs pulling your sticky folds apart. His lips are soft as he places a kiss on your hip, his breath hot, the faintest graze of his canines against your skin drawing an almost violent shudder from your body in response. If you were desperate before, you’re not sure there is even a word for what you feel now.

An all-consuming fire blazes beneath your skin that cries for him to be burned away with you. You arch impossibly deeper, instincts demanding you present yourself to him. “All for you, alpha,” you moan. ‘’M all yours, please take me. Can’t wait anymore.”

Your squeal rings in his ears as he scoops you off the floor and bundles you back into the bed, muscles flexing as he settles between your thighs. One hand curls around your neck to pull you closer as he kisses you possessively. It’s all teeth and tongue, fire and passion, spelling out his wavering restraint and burning hunger for you. You can feel his cock against your folds already, his sweats pulled low around his hips in his haste, grinding against you. The heat and impressive weight of it draws a needy whimper from deep in your throat, legs closing tight around his muscular hips to get even closer.

He nips your lower lip sharply, immediately soothing it with his tongue. Iwaizumi is panting as heavily as you, a thin ring of olive green nearly swallowed by black as his eyes gleam down on you.

“Last chance,” he rasps, his fingers fisting the sheets next to your head as your slick heat against his aching length slices at the threads of his sanity. His jaw brushes against your cheek, unconsciously seeking comfort, and then his lips press to your throat just once, the ache in his canines spiking at the proximity to your mating gland. His voice breaks under the intensity of this feeling. “I won’t—be able to stop once I… So tell me now.” Even if he stops now, Iwaizumi knows he’ll never be the same man he was before. His world has narrowed down to this room, to the beautiful omega in his arms. His omega, his mate. He trembles, breathlessly waiting for your answer, your permission.

“Hajime,” you sigh against his lips, soft like a prayer, before tugging his lower lip between your teeth sharply. Iwaizumi groans at the feeling, rutting against you as he takes in the carnal desire and beatific acceptance glowing like embers in your eyes. You don’t speak again but Hajime understands. There aren’t enough words in the world to convey this desire.

His eyes darken and he lets go.

Your back arches wildly, nails tearing sharp lines down his back as he shifts his hips and sheathes himself in your cunt. If they weren’t awake before, your neighbors most surely are now, your pleasured howl echoing in the air of your bedroom as your plush walls part to welcome all of him.

He can’t think, fuck, he can’t think. It has never felt like this. You’re so hot, squeezing him so tightly, and for a barest of moments, despite your mewling, Iwaizumi fears you’re in pain. But then your hands tangle in his hair, dragging his face down to yours. Your omega body was meant for this, meant to take your alpha just as he is meant to please you.

One syllable splits your shared breath, caressing his lips, and he can’t hold on any longer.

“Move,” you beg breathlessly.

Iwaizumi groans and draws his hips back to snap them into you again, surging forward and capturing your lips into a blistering kiss. He swallows your every moan as one calloused hand slides down to grope at the thigh curled around his waist. His balls are heavy, slapping against your ass with every thrust, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit. You’re clenching and fluttering around him, forcing low growls from his chest at the feeling. Your body is begging for him just as loudly as you are.

“Hah, ah, ahn, alpha!” Your head tosses back as one of his thrusts has his cock pressing deep, nearly bottoming out inside you. “So full—Hajime—feels so good.” The last syllable breaks as you keen, lips falling open as your pussy clamps down hard.

“Fuck—” Iwaizumi hisses as he feels his knot beginning to swell, and he can tell you feel it as well, your nails digging into his back again. He barely feels the sting; if anything, it adds to the primal fire burning between you. “You going to cum for me, pretty omega? You want my knot? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Want you, want you! Please!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way your glazed eyes hold his, how you intentionally bare your throat to him.

You’re asking him to… oh, fuck. He can’t. He can’t. But the thought of claiming you, digging his teeth into your mating gland and finalizing his claim has the animal within him howling to comply with your demand. The coil in his gut winds tight and his hips jerk out of rhythm as his orgasm looms.

Claim.

Iwaizumi whines as his orgasm sears through his body, his knot forcing past your entrance and swelling just a bit more, locking you together. His teeth bury down, and he can feel your walls constrict as he pumps you full of cum, hear you wail as your slick gushes around his length, following into carnal bliss.

He feels as if he’s floating, chest heaving as he blearily comes down from his orgasm. The scent of your distress jolts his senses, and he quickly removes his teeth from your pillow. He’d barely stopped himself.

“Alpha,” you sob, writhing beneath him. “Why?”

“Baby, baby girl,” Iwaizumi hushes softly, wincing as your movements tug down below. His knot hasn’t gone down enough to separate yet. Tears streak your face, and his heart almost snaps at the anguish dulling your eyes. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t want me.”

“Of course I do.” This is what he was afraid would happen when he refused to bite. Heats heavily fuck with hormones, with emotions. Pleasure made you ride high, only to come down feeling crushed and rejected by his refusal. His provisional instincts are lighting up, giving him much needed clarity as you continue to whimper and sniffle below him, no longer meeting his eyes.

“Am I not good enough?”

Damn it.

“Omega.”

You stiffen at the title, a fresh whimper catching in your throat at his sudden commanding aura. His pheromones wash over you, coaxing you to relax. More tears well in your eyes as he cradles your chin, turning your head so you look him in the eye. You try to blink them away.

“You are perfect, and I will never want another the way I want you,” Iwaizumi murmurs, voice still a little ragged. “But I don’t want to start this between us and have it turn out to be something you weren’t ready for. Heats heighten everything, ruts too. We can’t be sure this is what you want. Bite or no bite, I am your mate. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t leave unless you ask me to. After we get to know each other, and we’re both sober—” This gets a watery giggle from you, and the sound melts Iwaizumi’s heart. He purrs gently, “and you want it, then I will make you mine.”

Your body sags beneath him, relaxing fully under his weight. A low moan spills from your lips, a deep grunt from his own as his knot softens, enough to allow him to pull his still hard cock from your dripping cunt. He grabs your hips and flips onto his back, settling you over him. Iwaizumi winces and hisses softly as the scratches on his back burn a little upon making contact with the sheets, but he ignores it in favor of meeting your eyes steadily. There are very few lucid moments in the middle of a heat, and he wants to enjoy them as much as possible.

“Did you really break down my door?” You ask curiously, tilting your head.

A startled huff of a laugh shakes Iwaizumi’s body, his cheeks burning in shame. “Sorry, heat of the moment. I’ll fix it as soon as I can.”

“It can wait,” you purr, shifting your hips over his erection.

Oh. His eyes darken, cock twitching at your sultry tone. Electricity sparks up his spine as Iwaizumi practically watches the lust drip back into your expression.

"Everything can wait."

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Lately I've been going to bed around 4-6am and I have to wake up at 9am every day so I've only been getting 3-5 hours of sleep, but last night I went to bed at 2am so maybe I wouldn't feel like shit the next day, but I woke up at 6am and could not fall back asleep because I feel wide awake. My body hates me and doesn't want me to ever have more than five hours of sleep I guess

[hyperfixatedbastard]

how to get the First Man™ out of bed

Soft!Adam x GN!Reader

Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!

Word Count: 1.1k

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)

A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)

Dividers

Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.

One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen. 

Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.

1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.

“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”

“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.

2. Be a little assertive.

“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today. 

3. Be a little more assertive.

You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”

The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.

“Get the fuck up.”

He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.

4. Bribery.

Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)

No, this is a game you are not losing this time.

5. Threats.

“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”

Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.

“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”

He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.

“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”

That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”

A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”

Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled. 

You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”

You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open. 

“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly. 

“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.

You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.

“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.

“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.

You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.

He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.

“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.

“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking. 

Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.

Taglist - @3sire-777

[jenanigans1207]

I just love the idea that Cas and Dean actually manage to be sneaky in the beginning of their relationship, keeping it secret not because they don’t trust Sam or are ashamed but because they need to feel solid in it themselves before they tell anyone. So they’ve actually done a spectacular job of keeping quiet and not getting caught.

And then one day Cas and Dean are sitting at the table in the bunker kitchen, half asleep while Cas sips coffee and Dean munches halfheartedly on soggy cereal, when Sam comes back from his morning run.

“There you guys are!” He says as he pulls his headphones out of his ears. “I’ve been waiting for you to get up!”

“Why?” Dean asks, dropping his spoon into his bowl and splashing a little milk over the side. “You find us a case?”

Sam shakes his head as he heads to the fridge for a bottle of water. “I think there’s something wrong with the bunker.”

“What kind of something?” Dean asks, casting a curious glance around.

The bunker had seemed fine to him. Nothing strange had happened. No weird noises, no strange smells, nothing creepy or daunting that was outside of the ordinary as far as living completely underground went.

“Well, the lights have been acting weird.” Sam begins, thinking. “And the electricity will just randomly short out. It’s like all the fuses blow at once, or something, even when nothing has changed.”

Dean, still half asleep and only a few sips into his own coffee, doesn’t immediately make the connection. But Cas seems to go incredibly still across the table from him.

“Huh.” Dean says, pushing his bowl away and reaching for his mug. “I haven’t seen any of that. When is this happening?”

Dean still hasn’t pieced it together, but Cas is sending him a solid, desperate stare over the rim of his own mug. Dean’s mind is trying to kick on, to figure it out, and then Sam says—

“Well, most recently was last night. You were already in bed. And Cas— I don’t know where you were.”

And oh. Oh. Dean understands now.

Because yeah, he had been in bed last night. It just so happens that Cas had been in his bed, too. And they were— busy, but sleeping isn’t exactly what they were doing.

Dean purposely does not meet Cas’s gaze.

“Weird.” Dean says with a shrug that he hopes is nonchalant.

“Yeah,” Cas finally manages to agree, his fingers tight around his mug. “That is strange, I haven’t noticed it, either. We’ll have to keep an eye out for it and address it if it’s an electrical issue.”

Sam, beautiful, sweet Sam, doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He shrugs. “Yeah, just let me know if you notice it. Maybe it’s just a weird fluke.”

And it will be awhile yet before Sam understands why this only happens when he’s alone in the bunker at night, why it never happens when Dean and Cas stay up with him to the early hours of the morning to research. Sam will live confused but peacefully oblivious for as long as they can all get away with.

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

[kithtaehyung]

would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

-

-

Ugh. 

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 

Uhh. 

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” 

“Like a motherfucker.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 

“Okay.” 

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 

“It’ll be quick.” 

“What are you making?” 

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 

Oh. 

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 

“No?” 

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 

“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 

“You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 

So this was for him, too? Good. 

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 

“I’m lazy!” 

“Tough shit!” 

“I know!” 

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking. 

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 

Three of them, to be exact. 

-

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fin. :)

-

how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

[vmpiires]

﹆₊ 中毒‧₊˚ ADDICTED TO YOU, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ touch starved for 150 years. wc, 1.31K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i got this idea from a comic strip i saw on twitter by one of my fav chosoyuki ship artists. the second i saw it i knew i had to get on here and type something up. (also i finally figured out how to change the font colors by myself). hope ya enjoyyyyy. reblog to support meeee

␥ tags. modern AU [still a curse], female anatomy, fluff, no smut, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

it's been three years since you and choso started dating, but you still can't get enough of the way he reacts to your touch. whenever your soft hands brush against his body, you notice him tensing up involuntarily—almost as if it's a reflex. these small, shy gestures from him make you feel incredibly special as you know that it means he trusts you and is comfortable around you. you adore the fact that he still gets flustered around you, even after all this time.

upon your first encounter with choso, you couldn't help but notice his quiet demeanor. it became quite evident that he wasn't much of a talker, and as a result, he often found himself feeling isolated in public areas. except for his conversations with his brother, itadori, there were only one or two other individuals with whom choso conversed. this lack of social interaction left him quite lonely, and it was evident that he struggled to form connections with others.

it was quite apparent that you showed a genuine interest in him from the very beginning. despite being attractive, he always seemed to blend in with the crowd and go unnoticed. it was as if his presence never made any significant impact on anyone.

however, your keen eye picked up on his unique qualities and personality, which made him stand out amongst the rest. he was grateful for your attention, and it was evident that he appreciated it deeply. your interest in him not only boosted his confidence but also gave him a sense of purpose and belonging.

as you approached choso, he flinched and tensed up, clearly caught off guard by your sudden proximity. it was evident that he was not used to being touched outside of battle. however, as you placed your hands on his body, he visibly blushed, his cheeks redder than ever before. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. for the first time in 150 years, someone had dared to touch him outside of battle, and he was clearly taken aback by the unexpected physical contact.

choso found the entire incident quite peculiar and perplexing. it has been quite some time since that day, yet he can still vividly recall the exact spot where you placed your hand—right on his shoulder. the sensation lingers, almost as if the touch had left a mark deep within him. despite his best efforts, he is unable to shake off the feeling of unease that has settled within him ever since.

your touch is something that he would never forget, and if he said he didn't enjoy it, he'd be lying. you had an undeniable ability to leave a lasting impression on him.

you were working on an important project and stayed up until the early hours of the morning. as the clock struck four, you found yourself lying on the floor next to choso's futon. he was sleeping peacefully, his hair fanned out over the pillow beneath him.

your sleep was restless, and you moved around a lot, which could be quite annoying to others. though, choso didn't seem to mind too much, at least not tonight. suddenly, you accidentally hit the back of his head with your elbow, causing him to wake up abruptly. he looked at you with a stern expression, his lips pursed tightly together as he tried to regain his composure.

choso observed you as you slept and wondered why you hadn't been working on your project that was due soon. his eyelids narrowed into slits, and he rolled his eyes in frustration. he couldn't understand how someone could waste valuable time like this when there was important work to be done.

"hey," choso called your name. "wake-"

before choso could reprimand you for falling asleep, he could feel your arms slide underneath his and wrap around his torso, just beneath his chest. your warm breath against his neck was oddly comforting. choso lay on his futon, flustered and surprised as your grip grew tighter around his body.

the sensation that he was experiencing was completely new to him. it reminded him of the first time you had touched him gently on the shoulder. he let out a deep sigh and turned over, his face sinking slowly into the softness of his pillow. the feeling lingered, and he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. he wasn't sure if it was a sign of something new and exciting, or if it was something to be worried about. the uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

sunlight beamed brightly through the bedroom as morning approached. an alarm from your phone could be heard before instantly shutting it off. while you were sprawled out over the futon, choso was pressed up against you, his arms loosely wrapped around your body and his head buried into the crook of your neck.

as the sunlight filtered through the windows, both of you groaned in unison, your eyes squinting to shield themselves from the bright light in the bedroom. you exchanged a brief glance before you shot up from the bed, stretching your arms and letting out a loud yawn. the warmth of the sun's rays seemed to be beckoning you to start the day.

you found yourself rousing from a sudden nap, feeling disoriented and a bit groggy. you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes, trying to regain your bearings, when you noticed choso sitting beside you, his head propped up with his elbow against the pillow. it seemed that you had blacked out without realizing it.

"damn, i wasn't planning on falling asleep. i didn't even realize i went to sleep until now." you yawn again, holding your hand over your mouth to suppress how loud it is. "how come you didn't wake me up?"

as you locked eyes with him for the second time that morning, he couldn't help but feel a sudden rush of memories from the previous night flooding his mind. his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he relived those moments in his head, but those feelings quickly dissipated when he forcefully broke contact with you. he rolled his eyes, perhaps trying to shake off that awkwardness and bring himself back to the present moment.

"i was asleep, how could i wake you up?" choso replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "and how did you end up next to my futon?"

as you sat beside the futon next to choso, you couldn't help but notice his attempts to seem annoyed with your behavior. though, as the night wore on, it became clear that he was struggling to stay awake. eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep, his bare torso exposed to the cool air of the room. seeing him shiver, you gently pulled the sheets over him, tucking him in with care. he had been hugging his own body to keep warm.

"don't know...i was so bored that i didn't know what to do with myself," you replied as you finally stood up, giving yourself another good stretch and kissing choso on his head, gently tugging his jet black locks as you did.

the experience of being hugged after a prolonged period of 150 years was a truly transformative one for him. the male had initially feigned irritation at you succumbing to your sleepiness and falling asleep, but in truth, he was struggling to contain his desire to prolong the embrace.

it wasn't because he was trying to be helpful or responsible in any way, but rather because he simply wanted to bask in the warmth and comfort of the embrace for just a little bit longer. the sensation of having his body hugged after such a long time had shifted his perspective on many things, leaving him feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the power of human connection.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[yourdarkcherry]

Feeling righteously yummy || J.M

Summary: you’re grounded and JJ is pleading you to come with him on another late night adventure, when you refuse he decides that he should just finger you in your bedroom.

Warnings: smut, fingering (r!receiving), nipple biting and sucking, lots and lots of dirty talk, fem!reader.

Divider by: @/cafekitsune

Your parents hate JJ Maybank. They hate the effect he has on you, it’s a visceral type of change that comes in and disturbs everything in your world. 

You don’t blame them at all, because when he comes knocking at your window, or more likely throwing rocks,  you would throw away everything and hop into his motorcycle, not caring where he takes you as long as he takes you with him. 

He returns you to your home just by dawn, sometimes he doesn’t drop you off and you simply sleep over in questionable places with him. You’ve never been caught when you commit the latter, but you were the previous day and you were grounded, your window shut and your mother guarding the front door.

But if JJ Maybank was anything, he was born with the kind of persistence that tires you out and makes you do whatever he wants you to do. He’s holding into a tree branch and leaning against your bedroom window, managed to climb it with the help of the massive tree next to your house. 

His hand is extended to you, inviting you to join him on another adventure tonight. Looking so handsome and so charming, as he’s leaning against the tree he reminds you of the apple that attracted Eve. 

“I can’t,” you tell him, slapping his hand away when he wiggles his fingers to you, “I’m grounded.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” he asks, and you roll your eyes at him when he says, “because you have your legs and you have a free will, so I think you can but you just won’t.”

“JJ I’m literally grounded, and mom comes to check my room every five minutes so if she sees me gone I will be grounded until the day I die,” you argue, JJ laughs and you feel your heart flutters at the sound of his chuckle, “I think you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m serious, please,” you plead, “if my mom saw you here she’d kill me first and then kill you.” and then you try to loosen his grip on the windowsill, “I think you’re gonna kill me first!” he says loudly, and you instantly let go of him as you cover your face, afraid that your mother heard him shouting downstairs. 

But all you can hear is the muffled noise of the television, “come on cupcake, I bet she’s already sleeping, and I will drop you off before she even wakes up.”

“Yeah well, you told me that yesterday and I woke up at John B’s couch, and to a million calls from my parents.” You replied sassily, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him. You entirely blamed JJ for your punishment, because if he hadn’t coaxed you into drinking then you wouldn’t have gotten drunk and everyone knew you were a sleepy drunk, and he was an irresponsible drunk so it was easily a recipe for disaster.

You snoozed at John B’s couch, and he thought that he should let you sleep and your parents wouldn’t even realize you were gone because he would drop you at home early in the morning like he always does.

“This time it wouldn’t happen, scout’s honor.” he says, tapping his chest and you can’t help the smile stretching on your lips at his actions. 

“If I were to say yes, where are you taking me anyways?” you asked, sitting on the chair by your window. 

Truth to be said, you’ve never cared where he’d take you as long as you were with him. But your fight with your parents earlier, and the punishment you received afterwards slightly worried you. What if he takes you somewhere far away and you don’t get back home in time? If that were to happen, you would never be allowed to see JJ.

He wasn’t even your boyfriend, even though you’ve made out several times, but you were afraid to ask him what you two were because you knew JJ doesn’t do relationships. If you asked him to put a name on what the two of you have, then you’re scared he’d bail.

So, for now you’re content with what you two have.

JJ shrugs, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out eventually.” you roll your eyes at his words, then attempt to shut the window, “Then I’m not risking anything, JJ, go home.” He fights your attempt to shut the window, he wins because he’s persistent and you lose because you never actually wanted him to leave.

“I just don’t understand, you’re nineteen, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” he starts his usual argument, and you exhale as you answer with your usual answer, “because I live under their roof and they worry, a lot.”

“They have nothing to worry about though, it’s not like we do drugs or anything.” He says, you can't help but laugh and add sarcastically, “right, all we do is get drunk, smoke weed and skinny dip.”

He smiles, “come on, we don’t do anything wrong.”

“JJ, please.” you plead.

“No, you please. Come join me, I promise no crazy business and I’d have you back in an hour.” He tries, you shake your head despite feeling your heart relenting, but when you imagine your parents’ reaction you build your stubborn walls again. 

“I just don’t understand why your parents don’t like me.” He says with a shrug.

“Because you don’t use the front door, and you take me out during midnight.” you answered instantly. 

“I would say I use the front door pretty frequently,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes your face heat up and your heart swoon despite him clearly using a nasty innuendo. If it was anyone else you’d have slapped them, but since it was JJ you laughed and tried to cool your hot face with your cold fingers.

“Come on…” he pleads, and you shake your head. He stares at you with those sapphire blues that captivate you. Neither of you speak, only you drowning into his entrancing gaze.

Then he sighs and nods, “fine,” you feel your heart drop at him giving up despite it being the best outcome. If you were found out, you’d be giving a harsher punishment.

JJ looks defeated for a moment, his shoulders slumping as he lets go of the windowsill. You feel a pang of guilt seeing him like this, but the fear of facing your parents' wrath overpowers it. “Alright, alright,” he mumbles, stepping back from the window. 

“I’ll…” you trail, standing up from the chair and walking away from the window and crossing your arms over your chest tighter, and staring at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” 

“Hell yeah you are.” He says, and you grin but your smile turns into confusion when he looks like he’s about to jump from the branch to your window. Your lips are frozen with shock, and you’re stunned when he actually manages to bounce from the tree and then inside your bedroom.

He walks towards you, his signature smirk on his lips and his big warm hands rest on your cheeks, “you thought I would just leave that easily, cupcake?”

You want to yell at him, and tell him that he’s fucking crazy for even thinking he can stay with you in your bedroom. If your mother saw him, then you could only kiss your freedom goodbye. But the magnetic pull he has on you. Despite the chaos he brings into your life, there's a thrill in being with him that you can't resist, and the only thing you could do is try to fight your growing smile but failing miserably.

You know you look crazy as you’re smiling and hissing at him, “JJ, are you insane?! What if my mom catches you in here?!” 

He grins, completely unbothered, and wraps his left arm around your waist, his right hand still cupping your cheek. “Then you’re gonna have to hide me, but I’m sure we can manage, what's the worst that could happen? It’s not like she would kill me or anything.”

You huff a laugh, but there's no denying the truth in his words. There's something intoxicating about JJ's carefree spirit, his ability to turn even the most mundane moments into adventures. 

He’s the devil, you think, or the most tempting sin ever. You lightly push against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. “JJ, this is a terrible idea. You can't just waltz into my room like it's no big deal.”

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek. “Come on, cupcake, where's your sense of adventure? Life's too short to play by all the rules.”

Your eyes narrow at him, but you can't deny the fluttering feeling in your stomach. “My mom would kill me if she found you here.”

He presses a quick, sweet kiss to your forehead. “Then let's not get caught.”

As he pulls away, you can't help but sigh. JJ’s presence is a whirlwind of excitement and trouble, and though you know better, you find yourself giving in to his charm. The thought of spending the night sneaking around with him is both thrilling and terrifying.

He glances around your room, his eyes settling on the open window. “I would offer to go back out if it makes you feel better, but I’m afraid you’d say yes so I wouldn’t.” he smirks.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and amusement in your voice. “You're unbelievable, JJ. Fine, but you have to be quiet and stay out of sight. If my mom finds you, I'm blaming this entirely on you.”

He grins, taking your hand. “Deal, cupcake.”

Slapping his chest, “I hate it when you call me that.” and you try to make space between you both, but he’s stronger and more stubborn than you, the space you make is insignificant. 

“Why not? You taste sweet just like frosting of one.” He whispers against your lips, leaning down to kiss you daringly, and slowly. Your heartbeat is fast, and then it completely drops to your pussy at his dirty words and his slow kissing. 

You manage to gather enough willpower to push him away, panting slightly as you scold him. “JJ, we need to be quiet, remember?” He holds both of your hands by your wrists, bringing them to rest on his chiseled chest, he pushes you towards your bed.

“No,” he says and interrupting himself to kiss your lips, “No,” he repeats and this time he kisses your neck and your jaw slacks at the crazy sensation, “You need to be quiet.” He whispers hotly against your ear, and you actually have to hold onto his shirt to stabilize yourself or your jelly-like legs would expose how weak he makes you feel.

The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, down your shoulder and then finally to your boobs. He holds a handful and squeezes them, you bite your neck to not moan loudly. You struggle to keep your eyes open, and you’re painfully aware of your unlocked door.

“JJ, the door.” You slur, his kisses lowering down to your cleavage, and when he bites the mound of fat on your chest you stifle a low moan with the back of your palm. But you lose your balance when he pushes you to your bed, you gasp at the drop and watch him with hungry eyes take off his shirt and toes off his shoes. 

He climbs over your body, and rids you of your own shirt, and doesn’t bother with breaking off the distance in order to take off your bra, he only pushes the cups under your breasts. Then lowers his head to swirl his tongue around your hard nipples. You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his soft, hot and wet mouth around your nipple, he pinches the other one making you bite your tongue to stifle your noises.

Then he bites your nipple and you squeak, “JJ!” you hiss and pull his hair back but this only makes him more riled up. His hand travels down your chest, and then unbuttons your shorts, struggling to reach behind your thongs but when he does he easily finds the source of wetness.

His middle and ring finger slip in the parting of your pussy, then between the hot wet folds. He moans against your tits, making your body outstretch against his. You feel his hard cock prod the inside of your thigh when he comes to kiss your lips. 

“You’re always so fucking wet for me, do I turn you on that much, cupcake?” he whispers against your lips.

You reach for his clothed cock, groping the hardness and whispering back, “what about you, always thinking of fucking me that you get hard isntantly?” You feel his lips stretching in a smile against your own.

“Is it so wrong? Look at you, can’t believe the hottest girl in obx lets me fuck her whenever I want.” He says, his fingers parting your folds and going up and down over your clit. Your eyes instantly close at the sensation, feeling yourself grow wetter. 

“Do your parents know you let me fuck whenever I want?” he asks against your lips. You bring him to kiss you so you can moan freely against his mouth, you feel your mixing saliva dripping down your mouth. 

“I think if they knew they would hate me even more,” he says, his fingers prodding to go inside your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, but you feel more slickness seeping out of your pussy and it’s embarrassing the way your pussy makes noises in the quietness of your bedroom. 

“If you knew what I think of when I see you, I don’t think you’d go anywhere with me at midnight.” He whispers, his fingers coming out to stroke your wet clit, you feel your heart going faster. “Do you trust me this much? Letting me take you anywhere and letting me fuck you anywhere?” he kisses you, and you feel your walls tightening around his fingers.

The coil in the depth of your stomach feels like it’s getting tighter at everything he’s doing to you, at how he’s making you feel. 

“I can feel you getting tighter, are you going to cum?” he asks, whispering lowly and hotly in your ear and parting to stare into your eyes. Your voice betrays you, and you know if you speak you would only moan and whine, so you only nod whining lowly.

“You’re going to cum around my fingers? Please, I want to feel you cum around my fingers, please, baby?” he is basically pleading, at his last words the coil snaps and your vision turns white, he kisses you to muffle your moans.

His tongue twisting around your own and sucking your saliva, your hips buck against his hand as you’re riding out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop even when you’ve finished cumming, and only does that when you’re whining at him to stop with how overstimulated you were getting, your body jerking against his.

Embarrassingly, his fingers slip out of your pussy with a loud ‘pop’ that makes your face turn hot and makes his smirk widen, he brings his fingers to his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you. 

Your jaw slacks at the scenery, his pupils blown wide against his baby blue irises, and his cheeks flushed. 

He’s so beautiful, everything about him is magnetic. His tousled hair and rogue smirk only add to the allure. A walking embodiment of charisma, JJ’s heat is undeniable, a blaze impossible to resist.

“Let me give you a taste of your sweet pussy.” He states, and before you could respond he leans down to kiss you hungrily and passionately, it’s messy and sweet and overwhelming. Just like him. 

You’re the one that breaks the kiss, turning to the side to breathe in oxygen sharply. He lays on his side, staring down at you as you look back at him. Your smile widening at his infectious one.

JJ fixes your messed up hair strands, tucking them behind your ear and grinning. Resting on his elbow and looking down at you, then his hands travel to your exposed tits, meaning to cover them but not before pinching your nipples making you whine and slap his chest. 

He laughs, then when you look decent, he asks, “so, when are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend?” His laughter still lingers in the air, a playful melody that resonates. You raise an eyebrow, feeling your heart picking up its pace at your surprise by his candid question. “Boyfriend? JJ, you want to be…” you trail off, feeling your face grow hot at his question, his teasing smirk fueling the warmth. “Yeah, I mean, we’re practically inseparable, right?” JJ’s gaze holds a glint of sincerity beneath the playful facade. Your heart wavers between uncertainty and excitement. “I just never thought you were the type to do relationships, plus you’ve never asked to be my boyfriend” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips.

Then you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him to kiss him, he kisses back with the same level of devotion, if not more. 

When you break the kiss you kiss his cheek, he parts away just a little to look into your eyes, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

A mixture of emotions swirl within you– uncertainty, excitement, and a tinge of fear. JJ Maybank, the perpetual rebel, is asking for something beyond the usual thrill seeking adventures. It’s a side of him you hadn’t anticipated, and yet, it feels like a natural progression.

“I would love it.” You answer.

JJ’s grin widens, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, as if sealing the deal. “Well, then, consider it official, cupcake.”

[sleekista]

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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

It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

[mxstly-melancholy]

can i request a william afton x reader where they watch a porno together, and then like try to re-create it??? (if that makes any sense)

Idk why that popped into my head lol i just thought it would happen on a night in with afton :)

-🌌

I changed this up a little bit 🌌 anon! I hope you don’t mind <3

William Afton X Afab Reader

Warnings: Porn, Thigh riding, breeding, lots of pet names, sub/dom undertones if you look hard enough.

(this is horrendous I’m sorry I wrote it at 6 am with no sleep)

You laid in bed bored out of your mind. William wasn’t going to be home anytime soon, you thought, so you decided to pull up some porn videos on your phone. You couldn’t help but do that every time you were home alone and bored. It was a good way to get your mind off the burdens of life.

You click on a video, it shows an older guy wearing a suit (how ironic) and a younger woman. He guides her to straddle his thigh, letting her ride it. He comments about how naughty and what a whore she is.

You felt tingles through your body, wishing so badly William would let you do this. The video kept playing and your panties got wetter and wetter as the time passed. This man has made her cum all over his thigh multiple times before pounding her, such a lucky woman.

Your thighs were pressed together as you sat in bed, you felt pretty dumb making yourself all hot and bothered because William shouldn’t be home for another hour.

That is what you thought, because as the girl in the video was cumming loudly, the bedroom door opened. You practically throw your phone across the bed, trying desperately to mute it.

“I’m home early, dear… I see you’ve kept yourself occupied.” William laughed at your embarrassed face, putting his tie down on the dresser.

After you successfully locked your phone you hid your face in your hands.

“Welcome home..” you mumble into your hands.

William giggles at you and sits down next to you on the bed, loosening his belt.

“What was it that had you so entranced that you didn’t hear me come home?” He asked.

You sigh, “I don’t think you’d find it that interesting. It’s just boring… vanilla.. stuff.” You kind of lie.

William turns to you, “Well, show me.” He holds his hand out waiting for you to hand your phone over.

You shook with nervousness, but complied.

William unlocked your phone and put the video on, skipping through parts here and there. You could see his erection grow in his pants by the minute.

After a few minutes that seemed to last forever, he hands your phone back and looks at you with a mischievous smile.

You put your phone on the nightstand and as you turned around he was in your face, kissing you passionately. Shocked, but not complaining, you lean into him.

“Well, come on then.” He pats his thigh.

Your eyes widen with excitement, and quickly jump onto him. His hands came to your hips and started moving you immediately. You felt bad neglecting his obvious twitching cock in his pants, but before you could make out a word, your mouth fell open with a soft moan.

“That’s perfect… This is what I love to come home to. My perfect little slut just waiting to be used and ruined.” He whispers out. His words make your hips twitch and your pussy throb. Your panties were completely soaked and all you wanted to do was rip off your pajama shorts.

“So good for me.. my perfect girl.” He moves your hips faster against him, loud moans escaping your lips.

“Will..” you breathe out, holding onto his shirt collar tightly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please… I’m… so close.”

And just like that, you were shoved off for a quick moment while he unzipped his pants, looking at the obvious wet stain you had left on his thigh. Before you could even protest against being removed from his thigh you were dragged onto him and he forced your shorts and panties to the side, sliding into you quickly. You yelp, and claw at him. “F-fuck!”

His feet were grounded into the bed and his knees bent, he began to ruthlessly pound into your dripping pussy.

The moans that escaped you both were loud, long and echoed throughout the bedroom.

“W-William! Oh fuck-“

“So fuckin’ pretty for me doll- Mhhf!”

You couldn’t help it, your orgasm took over you like fire spreading, you shook and cried on him as he continued to use your hole.

“Already? Come on baby keep up!” William teases you, watching your twisted expressions as you become overstimulated. One of his hands comes up and grabs your neck gently, making you look at him.

“Is this what you wanted, hm?” He asks.

You could barely get yourself to make out words, you nod and tears fall.

“My beautiful girl… I’m gonna cum so deep in you, you want that hm?” He rambles on as his thrusts get sloppy, his orgasm nearing.

You basically go limp on him, just holding yourself up enoguh so he could continue to fuck you.

“G-god- damn-“ he grunts out as he pushes as deep as he can, cumming deep inside of you. You can feel his hot cum pouring inside of you and it causes you to shiver and moan with him.

You both fall breathlessly, holding onto each other. William giggles, “God, I needed that.”

[notjustjavierpena]

4AM (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: A little peek into Hubby’s mind. I’m working on a longer piece but here’s a taste for the starving.

Summary: Javier reflects on fatherhood while comforting his son.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, life with a tiny baby!!

Word count: 1.5k

4AM

It’s like clockwork when Lucas’ cries start echoing through the hallway in the early hours. Four in the morning and no sooner or later. You could set an alarm to wake you up at this point but each time there’s the slightest hope that it’s going to be at five the next time. 

You wake first. A moment later, you hear Javier wake up beside you with a sharp intake of air. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Whose turn is it?”

“It’s four a.m. He’s probably hungry,” you say with a groan and try desperately not to let your eyes close for too long, “Jesus, I’m tired.”

Lucas sounds desperate with how he sobs, hiccupping unhappily at not feeling either of you close yet. You feel bad for not having left your bed already, reaching for the covers to throw them to the side. Javier looks like he is just about to turn onto his other side but he sits up instead, “Let me. You just go back to sleep, baby. I’ll heat a bottle or bring him here if he’s hungry.”

He swings his legs out over the side of the bed, his movements slow with the kind of sleepiness that only comes from not waking up by oneself but rather being woken up by something or someone. 

“Javi,” you try to protest. 

“I mean it. Go back to sleep,” he stands up with a small noise, shuffling out of the room and down the hallway to avoid more protests from you. He works so much and you stay here with his infant son all day; it’s the least he can do. Plus, he wants to get all the quality time with his baby boy that he can, even when he’s miserable from sleep deprivation.

He stops and takes a deep breath right before pushing the door to Lucas’ nursery fully open. There’s a soft glow from the night light by the bed, a lamp shaped like a half-moon that shines a golden yellow over the crib to soothe. 

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” he says when he leans over the side of the crib to look down at his wailing son. Lucas’ hair is dark and tousled much like his own, his eyes are big and brown but right now, his face is also tear-streaked and red from exhaustion to the point where it tugs at Javier’s heartstrings. He shushes gently as he scoops his infant into his hands with practiced ease, holding underneath his arms and supporting his head with his fingers. He bounces gently when he has Lucas cradled against his bare chest. In his head, Javier goes through his usual checklist to make the crying stop but he finds that his son is neither hungry, gassy, or in need of a diaper change. He tuts softly and paces the room to make him settle. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asks when the wails subside and turn into soft whimpering instead. The tiny hands on his chest curl up and as the sobbing stops, Lucas seems to find comfort in the familiar scent and warmth of his father. Javier kisses the top of his head, speaking gently while still bouncing carefully, “Don’t worry, I get those too sometimes but your mamá is right there with me when I do just like I am here with you. You’re always safe with us.”

Javier is floored each time he manages to soothe his baby boy. It’s a reminder that he is doing a great job despite all the doubts he had during your pregnancy, the introspection, and the constant fear that your softness hadn’t changed him enough after Colombia to be a good father. 

It seems so long ago since he was living an adrenaline-fuelled and cruel life miles away from the quiet suburban life he now leads in Texas. Sometimes, he even feels like everything that happened in Colombia are experiences that belong to a whole different person. This is even if there are still nights when he wakes up in a cold sweat, his whole body aching, feeling claustrophobic, and his poor old heart racing with memories of the things he's seen and done.

The hope of everything that he has with you had always existed beneath the layer of women and booze but Lucas is the true reason for letting go of his past. He doesn’t think he has ever felt so much fulfillment in anything until he held the tiny little boy against his chest for the first time and a nurse told him that he was a natural. He sobbed when you had gone to sleep, leaving him alone with your shared creation and he just couldn’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t think he ever thought that his heart was capable of feeling so much unconditional love for anything. He still marvels at how his chest aches every time he looks into his son’s eyes.

Lucas has drifted off to sleep in his arms by now, breaths having slowed down and eyes having fluttered closed. Javier paces around the room for a few more minutes just to make sure, and then he walks back to the bassinet and gently lays the baby down on his back. 

However, as soon as Lucas loses the warmth of his father’s embrace, his eyes shoot open and the crying restarts. He writhes and hiccups and kicks the blanket off. 

Javier sighs softly but there’s a smile on his face as he does it. He picks him up once again and the routine starts over, “So that’s what you needed, huh? No llores. Estoy aquí. No voy a ningún lado (Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere)."

He is so tired as he promises this, eyelids burning from exhaustion when knows he doesn’t have to be up for another three hours and they could be spent on sleeping. It doesn’t reflect what he wants though because sleep is nothing compared to hearing those cries ebb out until they stop altogether. He feels triumphant each time. 

He walks to the corner of the room where an old and slightly weathered rocking chair stands. It used to be in his father’s home, more specifically on the back porch, but he received it as a gift after his pop found out he was going to be a grandfather. 

He slowly lowers himself into it. The gentle motion back and forth has Lucas falling asleep once again. Javier can feel his chest rise and fall in time with his son’s and it’s so soothing that he allows himself to relax. He closes his eyes, becomes aware of their synchronized heartbeats, and then passes out with the little bundle on top of him. 

In your bedroom, you wake up an hour later to pee only to find that Javier still hasn’t returned after getting up. You concentrate on listening for your baby’s cries but there is nothing to be heard. After going to the bathroom, your feet take you down the hall and into the nursery just in case Javier needs you to take over rocking your son for a while. 

You find them both fast asleep and it is a relief that there’s no distress after all. It makes you smile to see them like this, looking so alike despite the age difference between them. Tiptoeing across the floor to gently place a hand on Javier’s shoulder, you wake up your husband with the intention of not disturbing your son. He stirs at your touch and looks up at you with tired but content eyes. 

“Looks like you both fell asleep,” you whisper to him gently. Absent-mindedly, you stroke your hand up and down Lucas’ back. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Javier blinks sleepily, reaching up with one hand to rub his eye, “Seems like he didn’t need anything.” 

“Are you kidding me? That’s not true,” you cut him off with a shake of your head and a soft laugh, “He needed you.”

There’s a pause. Javier almost looks like he might drift off again. You carefully lift Lucas from his arms, “Let’s get you back to bed. Both of you.”

You lay Lucas back in his bassinet, rubbing his belly with the palm of your hand before tucking the blankets around him snugly. He stirs but only briefly and then settles back into a peaceful slumber, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of his covers.

Behind you, Javier has gotten up from his seat. You turn to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both stand there in the soft glow of the nursery. It goes on for a minute or so, none of you saying anything. 

Together, you quietly leave the room. In bed, Javier holds you protectively in his embrace during the last few hours he has with you. He leans to kiss your lips tenderly, “Te quiero tanto, baby (I love you so much, baby).”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” you reply and earn him squeezing you even tighter, “Para siempre (forever).”

Being a first-time parent is hard, you know this, but it’s not as hard when four a.m. I love yous are involved.

.

.

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[bedtimeproblems]

How I think dating him would be:a little more realistic.

Real headcannons:

* Simon Riley isn’t a cold ans haunted person.He regularly sees a therapist to talk about missions that are hard to talk about

* He’s a military man, which means that it’s become almost his whole personality.Strict and he’s not going to cave to everything you say.He likes things to be neat and orderly.

* More than likely you’ll wake up alone with a single text from him about his whereabouts.Dont expect him to text you everytime you send one.Calling sometimes is better than texting.Its a better way to reach him.

* He’s gone for months,which can be extremely hard without any contact.So expect a long time before you see him again.

* If you are part of the 141 task force he doesn’t want anyone to know.And he could care less about your rank, if he has too then he will make an example out of you.Within working hours don’t display PDA.He’s more than willing to entertain flirting when it’s just you two but other wise he’ll treat you the same as anyone else.

* Not entertaining you when you’re upset.When you want to talk then do it. Otherwise it would be a waste of time to try and argue with him about something with an easy solution.

*When he’s at home he doesn’t like to called Ghost.He hates it actually and makes him feel like he always has to be the mask.

*Pet names are rare, he’ll whisper them to you when you’re asleep because he doesn’t ever want you to know how much he really cares incase one day you leave while he is away.

*Simon sleeps early and goes to sleep early, he has a schedule that he likes to stick too when he’s not working.

*Very fond of watching you do your own thing.Painting, reading , cooking.Whatever it is.

*gift aren’t rare, but they don’t always hold value.Sometimes it’s just a stray flower that he sees and other times it can be a bouquet of a thousand of your favorite flowers.

*Simon Riley won’t propose until he certain that you love him just the same no matter what.Until you can handle everything without him, just incase there comes a day where he won’t be able to change your car oil, change a tire, fill up your car fluids.

* He loves you,really he does.Its the most he’s felt for anyone and he’ll do everything to keep you around til your untimely death should it ever happen.

* But he doesn’t love you enough to quit his job.

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, death, mourning, funeral, fluff, smut, daddy kink, breath play, spanking, slapping, fingering, face fucking, degradation, gagging, deep throating, dumbification, edging, creampie, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talking, name calling, rough handling, sadomasochist, sadism, spitting, spitplay, squirt, the correct method of choking, drugs (weed), alcohol, smoking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another monstrous chapter sitting at 10+k, because when I said this series was going to only be 15 chapters I meant it hahaha. Goodness, gracious me, here we are. We have come to the end of this series! Thank you so much for all your love and support this whole way through! I hope that you have enjoyed it, and I hope I did the ending some sort of realistic justice. I shall be getting onto my requests now hehehe, anyway, ENJOY! <3

Final Chapter: Stay

Waking that morning, you had not expected to be met with what you were. You had thought that the day would be spent with some awkward, uncertain glances cast Aemond’s way, with the others casting theirs towards you both. Then perhaps you would talk again. 

Or fuck.

Or both.

Your little traitorous brain hoped for both. 

But no, that's not what you woke up to that morning. You woke up to a nightmare come true. And although all had prepared for it for years, and in fact, the reason why all were back at the Red Keep, it still came as a bombshell that shook the family to its very core.

Viserys was dead.

Gone peacefully in his sleep, found by none other than his doting eldest daughter and wife. 

You had woken to the bedroom door shutting, a peak of Criston Cole’s hair in the crack of the door. Helaena stood frozen by it, swaying slightly on her feet before she walked over to the bed and sat down, staring at the far wall.

“Hel?” You sat up, hand coming to touch your best friends shoulder, “What's happened?”

Fear of the unknown settled into your gut. 

Her lavender eyes turned to you.

“He’s dead.”

The Keep was in disarray. 

Rhaenyra and Daemon were in shambles, having lost a father and brother all in one. It was a most terrible thing to witness. You felt grief yourself for your friends, and for the family as a whole as they moved through the motions of his death, his leaving of their worlds. You felt akin to an invasive species as you sat amongst them, foreign, displaced, unfitting in their neat yet disturbed world.

Lucerys and Jacerys were grieving with their mother and step-father, the twins joining them. As for the other children of Viserys? That was another story.

Amongst the four of them, there was not a single tear shed for their father, bar Aegon in the early light of the morning, stained cheeks hidden in the shadows, red rimmed eyes, and a tiredness that no young man should have at his age, pulling down at his shoulders. But he had swallowed it quickly and quietly as he had for his whole life and went outside to smoke.

You couldn’t however account for Aemond, as he was nowhere to be seen. 

Sitting in the gazebo with the three silver haired siblings, you tried to offer condolences, a shoulder to cry on if needed, but all were content to grieve in their own way; Aegon smoking yet another joint, Daeron texting someone animatedly, and Helaena, simply staying quiet and composed beside you. 

It wasn’t what you had expected for people to have just lost their father, but you supposed that everyone grieves in their own ways, theirs being much different to your own.

Helaena stood from where she had sat, dressed in all black, something you had not once seen her wear, a stark change to the bright colours that she usually donned. Perhaps this was her way of showing her grief. Her mourning. 

Her loss.

“Walk with me.” She said quietly, and you nodded, jumping up as you grasped her hand, letting her lead you down the garden to look at the various plants and trees that were in a part of a gated garden entrance. 

Greenery of all sizes, shapes, and colours grew beautifully, small little plaques beneath identifying their scientific name. The Red Keep's garden had some of the rarest of flowers and trees in the whole of the realm. It even had the famed Winter Rose’s from the North in a special greenhouse that kept them in below freezing temperatures. 

It was still early in the day, the sun only just rising to its peak as you walked together in silence, your hand in hers as you followed her lead, looking at the shrubs and immense show of wealth. If it weren’t for the reason of your walk, you would have been more animated upon seeing some rare and beautiful orchids, perfectly potted and healthy.

Your steps crunched along the cobblestoned path, twisting around to an extended part of the estate that you hadn’t been to. There, in front of you, was a most beautiful sight to behold. 

Ruby red leaves sprouted out of ashen branches, twisting upwards towards the sky. 

A Weirwood tree.

And a very old one by the looks of it. 

“The Godswood.” Helaena explained to you, taking you closer to it.

You were so entranced by its incredible beauty, thinking of how Cregan's description of his back home didn't do it justice, that you hadn’t even noticed the man that sat amongst its roots, leant back on the trunk.

Aemond Targaryen sat beneath the branches and leaves of a tree that had been a symbol of the Old Gods to his family for hundreds of years. One leg was stretched out in front of him, whilst the other was bent, his long arms crossed over the top of his knee lazily. 

He watched you as you came towards him, words caught in your throat. 

The light that peaked through the tips of the branches shimmered down on his pale hair, causing it to glimmer with each parting of the leaves from the breeze that rolled through. His face looked flat, emotionless.

Blank.

Helaena’s hand slipped away from yours and you turned to look at her. She gave you a soft smile, before she walked away without a word, leaving you in the small Godswood courtyard with her brother. 

You stood for a moment or two, the both of you watching each other before your legs pulled you towards him. You moved to sit beside the long limbed man, pulling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make him feel overcrowded, or as if he was being observed. Instead, you hoped that your presence was, at least, the tiniest bit of comfort if he needed it.

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you sat together, both staring off into the distance as the soft rustling of leaves moved overhead. If not for the death that had occurred in the early hours of the morning, the day would have been beautiful.

It was like that for a while, just the both of you. Basking in each others company silently, and yet you felt the need to do more. To say more. To show him more. To show him that you cared, to try and rebuild that bridge that had been torched between the two of you, in the way he had attempted to last night. 

You felt guilt knowing that he would have woken up to not only an empty bed, but the news of the death of his father in a Keep he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he so desperately tried to avoid.

Tendons and veins pulled beneath the skin of Aemond pale hand as he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together atop his knee.

It was always his hands. Something you had learned rather quickly about him. His hands always moved when in thought, when irritated, lost, or angry.

Any strong emotion caused the man to fidget.

It was a habit that he shared with Helaena, no doubt inherited by their mother.

With no other way to convey what you were feeling, you lifted your hand and placed it atop his. His hand was warm, and twitched beneath yours. Aemond, without wasting a second, flipped his over and held onto yours tightly, threading his fingers through yours atop his knee.

Silence stretched forever until-

“I don’t mourn him.” Aemond’s voice moved with the breeze, soft and quiet, gently carried away from the courtyard, and you felt a pull of sorrow for him deep within your chest.

“We weren’t ever close. Cole was more a father to me than him.” There was a hollowness to his words which you would argue was grief, until he continued, “I don’t grieve the man he was, I grieve the father he could have been to me. The father he should have been to me. Something that I never had.”

Tears prickled in your eyes for him.

Gods.

Why had life been so cruel to this man?

A soft chuckle floated from his lips, a stark difference to his demeanour before, “I used to try so hard to impress him when I was young. Studied, learnt our traditional tongue before any of my other siblings did, and even then, it wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him. He was sick, yes,” Frustration bled from his shoulders, tense and closed in, “But he had more time for them than us.”

There was the anger.

Sorrow.

Spite.

Aemond Targaryen had felt he had been in his nephews shadow his whole life.

And it showed.

“It was worse for Aegon. First son and all. A shiny new toy for Viserys before his expectations became too high for Egg and he rebelled. Then nothing he would do could impress the man.” 

You squeezed his hand tightly, shuffling across the hard roots of the tree to get closer to him, leaning your shoulder heavily against his, so he could feel your weight, so he could feel the heat of your body. To comfort him, to be there for him, all while not being smothering.

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

He shook his head, long strand of silver falling over his shoulder as he looked at you, “Don’t be.”

Silence fell over you again, and you watched as a lone red leaf, pointed sides and all, slowly drifted from above the two of you down onto the grassy ground below. It swooped from side to side, spinning gently before soundlessly falling amongst green blades.

You didn’t want him to be alone. 

You didn’t want him to feel isolated.

And in your restless, sleepless night, you had thought about him.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, and watched as he turned his head to look back at you, his lone eye searching your face. 

Your thumb soothed over his gently, your words having more than one meaning.

His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth by his teeth, and then his voice came up and out from deep within his chest as he gazed at you intensely, clouded eye unmoving, and the sun shining down onto his scarred side of his face.

“Stay.” He asked you for the very first time.

A stark opposite to all the times you had uttered that word to him. 

Asked him to stay with you.

It was first time he spoke that four lettered word to you, beneath the crimson leaves of the ancient Godswood in a home that he had grown in.

You heeded his request. 

Together, you sat beneath the branches and looked up through them, side by side in a wordless promise to each other.

Stay.

-

The next few days were a whirlwind. The funeral was held on the grounds of the estate, people from all over flying in to say their goodbyes to the patriarch of House Targaryen.

At first you had asked Helaena if you could go back home, not wanting to intrude on her families grief, but she had insisted, no, begged for you to stay for the funeral.

And so you had.

It was an intense and sad ordeal, but not once did you leave Helaena or Aemond’s side. You stuck by them both, and he always came to you.

Crossing the kitchen to come to you. Crossing the dining table outside to come to you. Crossing the hall to come to Helaena’s room and sit on the bed with the two of you, happy to be just in your presence and not say a thing. 

Aegon had silently cried at the funeral. The only child of Alicent to do so. You had watched as fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, eyes cast at the coffin of his father, as his mother stood stoically beside him.

Alicent Hightower had cried softly when she had read the eulogy, then followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon's. It was the only time that you felt you would ever see the pair look out of their usual controlled demeanour. 

After the funeral, there was the service, where all came to Rhaenyra and Alicent to offer their condolences, the two women standing side by side in all black. At one point, you had watched as Alicent’s pinky reached out, searching for Rhaenyra’s hand. It had curled against the other woman’s, and you watched as the other tilted her head slightly in shock, before she made a larger move, and curled her hand directly around the auburn haired woman’s beside her. 

It was days after the funeral before all of you were back together again, side by side.

It had been a long day, longer than the last, and the night had bled into the sky in a deep purple before turning to its deeper shade of blue. Aegon had done rounds, going to each and every room to tell all to meet him down at the pool for some well needed drinks. 

Aemond had been sat at Helaena’s vanity watching the two of you sit on the bed and softly giggle at a message Sara had sent her, your silver haired friend more intent on moving forward than looking back.

Hand in Helaena’s, you led her and Aemond down to the pool, not bothering to put swimmers on. 

It was dark outside, the usual lights strung about the garden having been turned off, the only source of light coming from the moon, the stars, and the smaller lights that edged around the pools perimeter.

The others were already there, you having seemingly been the last pitstop, passing around popped bottles of champagne, wine and beer. There was the sweet, dank smell of Aegon’s weed again in the air, the short haired man leant back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky, bottle of Moët in one hand.

It was awkward at first, what with Jacaerys and Aemond’s outburst the last time you were all together before the funeral, but before long, and with the help of your trusty liquid courage, all seemed to melt into the numb feeling that the alcohol brought them. 

You laid back in one of the armchairs, Helaena, between your legs, head resting on your stomach as you brushed the silver strands away from her face as she looked up at the stars. Aemond watched from beside you, having pulled over one of the other poolside chairs.

The twins, and the brown haired boys were sat at the waters edge with Aegon, their legs dangling into the pool as they swung them softly back and forth, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves. 

Daeron, having disappeared for a moment, came back with his speaker, softly playing music through it to fill the gentle quiet that surrounded you all.

It was soft, calm, and peaceful enough for such a tumultuous time, and as the night got longer, and bottles of alcohol became drained, blunts were passed, and inhibitions were lowered, smiles and laughter were shared amongst all. 

Even Aemond.

But that stillness was disturbed when the tipsy, brown haired Lucerys stood and faced everyone, bottle of red wine in hand. The smiles dissipated, and a serious energy floated amongst everyone again.

“I want to make a toast.” The young man said with drunken confidence, thrusting out the wine bottle towards Aegon, “To Viserys.”

Jacaerys lifted his beer towards his younger brother, the twins following suit with their cans of fruity mixer.

Lucerys’ eyes fell on Aemond, before his lips pulled down solemnly, turning away to roam his gaze on everyone else, “He wasn’t a perfect man-”

Aemond quietly scoffed beside you.

“-But if it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

Aegon hummed in agreement, sipping deeply from his almost empty bottle of Moët. 

Lucerys’s gaze fell to you as he scratched the back of his neck, “Except you, Y/n. You’d still be here. Well, not here here. But you’d still-“

“-Alright, move it on.” Baela joked lovingly at him as he began to ramble. 

Straightening his posture, Luc thrust his wine up to the sky, “To Viserys.”

All lifted their drinks up to toast, bar Aemond, hands bringing wine to their lips, beer to their mouths, or champagne to their tongues. You offered Aemond a small, sad smile, and he returned it, sipping at his beer in thought. 

It wasn’t a full toast per-say like the others, but he drank in the mans honour regardless.

A large palm opened up towards you, pale fingers lazily spread in offering. You looked at his long digits, signet ring on one.

“Come here.” Aemond hummed, gentle look in his eye. 

Helaena pulled herself from your lap and looked at her brother, “I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped playfully, and he rolled his eye at her. 

A small giggle fell from your lips as you looked at his hand again. Still outstretched towards you in front of everyone.

In front of everyone.

Your heart raced in your chest as you stood, placing your hand in his, the warmth of his palm spreading up your arm as you moved over to Aemond, who pulled you between his long legs in a similar way you had done with Helaena. His legs were bent on either side of you with your back against his chest. You felt his chin dip to rest at the top of your head, and a warmth spread through your chest like wildfire. 

Helaena smiled at your warmly as Aegon craned his neck backwards to look at the two of you.

“How long has this been going on?” He teased, glassy eyes narrowing on the both of you.

Lucerys, who had sat back down beside his brother after his toast, turned around with Jacaerys to observe. And when their heads turned, the others followed.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you felt a sudden shyness at it all. The urge to hide was strong.

But really, what was this?

You didn’t know.

But it was something.

Something more than before.

But still, you didn’t have an answer, so you moved to respond.

“Oh, we’re n-“

“-A while. I was just a dick about it.” Aemond interrupted you, and your heart soared.

Did he -

Did he just-

Did he just confirm your thoughts?

Did he just validate your feelings?

Answer all your burning questions that had kept you awake at night?

A while.

That implied that this was more.

That this had always been more.

That this was solid.

That this was-

“So that’s why you wouldn’t fuck me.” Aegon pouted, smirk pulling at his lips.

Aemond sighed heavily behind you, “That and the fact that you’re utterly repulsive.”

Aegon’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his brother, “You wound me! I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who haven’t found me repulsive.”

“Too many, if you ask me.” Helaena snickered.

Aegon flicked his joint at his sister, standing straight as he looked down at everyone. 

“Good thing I didn't ask you. I’ll have you know I’m polyglamourous.” Hands on his hips.

“Polyamorous.” Daeron corrected his brother.

Aegon grinned, victory in his cheeks, “I meant what I said.”

Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your thigh soothingly as the night moved on, goosebumps rising on your flesh with each stroke of his long fingers. His chest was warm against your back, and you felt that you could fall asleep from where you were.

Helaena squealed at her phone loudly, breaking you from your fatigued thoughts.

“What is it?” You turned to face her, watching as a large grin pulled at her lips.

“Sara got us tickets to see the Phantom of the Opera!”

“What!”

“Yes!” She shook her phone in her hand whilst she screamed in excitement, “I can’t believe she remembered!”

Aemond chuckled from behind you, chest vibrating against your back, “Of course she'd remember. She’s in love with you.”

Your best friend suddenly became shy, a blush rising on her cheeks rapidly, turning them a bright red that even in the darkness of the night, you could see, “I know that. I just can’t believe it.”

“I’m jealous. Ask her where my ticket is.” You teased, “So I guess this means I’ll be seeing more of Sara again?”

Helaena gave you a knowing smirk, and you gave her one right back. 

You were happy for her.

Really happy.

They were perfect for each other. And you always knew that they would get back together again. That and Helaena always told you so, and Helaena was never wrong.

Aegon having come round to where you sat, snatched his sisters bottle of Prosecco, downing the remainder in one gulp, a refreshed and exaggerated gasp filling the air as he ruffled her hair, a growl and swat of a hand coming for his arm which he dodged last second.

Aegon giggled, running around the rim of the pool, shoes kicked in one direction, socks thrown in the other, shirt torn from his back in one yank, and then came his pants. Your eyes widened as Aegon stripped himself nude before jumping into the pool with a yell. 

He emerged from the cool water with a flick of his wet hair laughing, sending a hand splashing towards the twins and he smiled, “Come onnnn, live a little! Get in!”

Baela and Rhaena gave each other a shared look before standing, stripping themselves of their clothes before jumping in, hand in hand.

Before you knew it, you were all stripped bare, splashing about in the pool laughing and swimming around. 

Even Aemond.

His cheeks were pulled taut by the grin plastered to his face as he swam towards you, tickling your sides as you screamed for backup from Baela and Rhaena, who swam towards you, a flurry of splashes and squeals until his large palms rose above the water and conceded. 

Aegon pulled another spliff from the side of the pool and passed it around, and although it was dark, and you couldn’t see the details of anyones bodies, you still felt slightly shy in knowing that not only were you naked, but you were naked with a certain someone pressed up against your back.

At one point, you could have sworn you felt his cock twitch against the cheek of your ass, but you shrugged it off, going to the others as they tossed a ball like piggy in the middle back and forth, little Lucerys in the centre trying to jump up to catch it with all his might.

Eventually the water grew cold, and as you swam to sip at some of Baela’s drink, Aemond slid from behind you, hand wrapping around your waist. Heat spread through you as you felt him press up against you, mouth beside your ear.

“I think it's time for bed, don’t you?” He whispered hoarsely.

You bit your lip turning your head to try and sneak a peak at him, but was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious wolf whistle. 

Aegon grinned at you both, “No fucking in mummy’s pool.”

“Ugh, Aegon. What the fuck.” Helaena grimaced.

A laugh exploded from your lips as you turned to look at Aemond, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate to hide the smirk that was rising on his face. 

“Come on.” He urged you, tilting his head to outside of the pool.

You climbed out with his help, getting dressed, all the while Aegon continued to whistle at the two of you and make obscene noises. But it was short lived as Helaena pushed Aegon’s head under water with all her weight, Jacaerys and Luc clapping in laughter.

You saw this as your out and grabbed Aemond’s hand, racing him through the Keep in fits of giggles until you reached his room, anticipation strumming in your gut. You watched as he shut the door behind him, turning to face you. His hair was wet, much like yours, and he advanced on you slowly, energy bouncing around inside of you.

“Come here.” He beckoned you with a finger, soft smirk on his lips.

You shook your head at him cheekily, “Nuh uh.”

His head tilted as he looked at you, “Please.”

Your feet carried you towards him, a magnetic pull dragging your chest to his. He smiled warmly down at you, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other dragged a wet strand of hair away from your face.

“Beautiful.” He praised you, before dipping his head down to kiss you.

Aemond bent slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bed as you didn’t once break the kiss. 

It wasn’t hurried like the last time.

It wasn’t frenzied.

This time, you took your time with each other. 

Aemond stripped you of your wet clothes and brought you to your peak on his tongue, his name whispered from your mouth like a prayer. He hovered above you as he slid in, watching the way your mouth opened and brows furrowed at the stretch, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face as he slowly moved through your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against every point within you.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praised you as you fell apart once again on his cock, walls gripping his length tightly as you keened and whined, hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he smiled sweetly at you.

This was a side of Aemond you hadn’t seen before, and a side you hoped to see more.

He came with a quiet moan of your name, head dipping down into the crux of your neck as he planted kiss after kiss there.

You spent the rest of your night together curled in each others embrace, falling asleep with one word echoing in your mind.

Stay.

-

Waking up in a dark green and black room was disorientating at first, probably exacerbated by the steady strumming of a slight hangover in the back of your mind. But the warmth of two strong arms wrapped around you, and the familiar scent of Aemond that filled the space between, reminded you of where you were, and who you were with. 

Your eyes opened as you looked up at him. His good eye still shut, chest rising and falling slowly.

Everything had happened so fast.

It was as if a match had been lit and set you both ablaze. The two of you burning together hotly, in more ways than one. Your tempers. Your stubbornness, but more importantly, your desire to be with one another. 

It was different with him.

Unlike anyone else before.

Passionate.

Fiery.

All encompassing.

And you relished in it.

Relished in the fact that not only was it real, not only tangible, but Aemond had made it open last night as he had pulled you into his lap in front of everyone, and verbally confirmed what had been happening all along. 

You weren’t ‘Helaena’s roommate’. 

You were more.

You knew that now.

His confession for his love for you however, was something that the two of you would dissect on a later date. But right now? You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. Didn’t feel the same pull in your heart towards him when he would smile, or laugh, or just look at you. Or how your body would be set alight with even just a touch of his hand.

Aemond Targaryen had you well and truly under his spell.

And there was no other place you’d rather be.

Aemond shifted beside you, eye blinking open sleepily before he looked down at you.

“Morning.” His voice crackled with sleep, mouth opening in a small yawn before he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“Morning.”

Aemond squeezed you to him tighter as he stretched out the fatigue in his limbs, a whiny grunt escaping his lips.

That was noise you hadn’t heard before.

He sounded content.

Comfortable.

Safe.

But there was still one final thing. 

You wanted to be sure that last night wasn’t just a drunken little display, or a declaration emboldened by the grief around the others tainted by possessiveness against Jacaerys.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly, watching as he blinked at you again.

“Whatever happens, happens.” His voice was deep, lulling you into a calm, “But I know I want to be with you.”

Here it was.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes searched his face.

This was it.

His last chance to back out.

His last chance to say no.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that creeped on your face, hands pulling him down into a relieved kiss, pouring your adoration and care for him into it as much as you could.

He returned it equally with fever.

Heat ran through you as you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into his mouth as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. Aemond groaned into the kiss but pulled away.

You looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, we got to have breakfast with the others.”

You whined, plopping back into the pillows with a huff, “I don’t want to.”

Aemond chuckled from beside you, sitting up in the bed as he ripped the sheets away from your body, exposing your naked form. You rolled over onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow as you whined.

Two light smacks landed on the cheek of your ass, and you cried out in surprise, “Come on, grumpy.” He teased, “I’ll give you what you want after. But first, we need to eat.”

At the promise of getting what you wanted, you rolled out of bed, begrudgingly, looking at your semi wet pile of clothes in disgust.

You could do a run down the hall to Helaena’s room, but you could also be spotted running nude through the estate, which to you, didn’t seem appropriate considering the funeral held there only a few days past.

Aemond must have noticed your predicament, “Here.” He came over to you, handing you one of his black shirts and those grey sweats you loved so much.

You threw them on, the top coming down to your mid thigh. The pants however, didn’t stay up, and kept sliding down your legs no matter how much you tightened the strings or rolled them at your hips. 

Aemond laughed at you as you stepped out of the pants and threw them at him in a huff. 

“I need pants.” You whined, searching his room.

“Would prefer it if you didn’t.” He raised a brow at you.

Your core clenched around nothing as you looked at him, his stance challenging you to obey.

So this is the game he wanted to play.

Smirking, you turned to the door, opening it up, “Come on. We will be late.”

You left without looking back, not getting to see the way Aemond’s tongue poked into his cheek, watching you trot out of his room clad in his shirt.

Only his shirt.

The others were seated at the table outside picking at the spread. They all greeted you both as you moved sit down, except Aegon, who’s head was in his arms atop the table as he groaned dramatically and loudly for all to hear.

“Is he alright?” You asked Helaena, watching as she rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics.

“He’s fine. He’s just a drama Queen.”

“Drama King.” He grumbled back.

You ate together for a while before catching Helaena’s attention, it wasn’t something you wished to do, but it was something you had to nonetheless.

You had to go home, and what was more, you had to go back to work.

“Hel, is Criston around today?” You asked, plopping a sweet piece of watermelon into your mouth.

“I think so. Mum’s home today. Why?” Her head leant against her hand as she twirled one of her dragonfly earrings in between her fingers.

“I have to go back to work. I’ve used far too much of your mothers generosity, and uni starts back up next week.”

Helaena sat up straighter, “Holy shit, that’s next week?”

You nodded, “Yep. Not looking forward to Orwyle’s Citadel History class. Man could bore you to tears. I think I’ve actually cried once or twice.” You joked, rolling around a slice of starfruit on your plate before plopping it into your mouth, enjoying the sweet nectar that coated your tongue.

“Are you going to take Rhaenyra’s offer?” Helaena asked, eyes flitting from you and then to Aemond.

“What offer?” Came the grumbling groan of Aegon, his head lifting momentarily to look at you. 

If he wasn’t speaking and breathing in front of you, you would have mistaken the man for being dead. Dark rings sat beneath his eyes, and his pale skin had a sallow dullness to it that made him look almost grey.

“Rhaenyra offered her a job at her firm.” Helaena confirmed.

Aegon grunted, dropping his head back into his arms.

“I didn’t know she offered you a job.” Aemond looked at you from the side, brows pulling slightly.

Why did you feel a slight stab guilt in not telling him?

But how could you have?

It had been a whirlwind since she spoke to you.

The offer.

Aemond returning.

Your spat.

Your make up.

Viserys’ death.

It didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at that time, and if you were being truly honest, you hadn’t even thought of it since his arrival.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you with everything that’s happened.”

Aemond hummed, and so you continued, turning to face Helaena, “I think so. I need to give it a proper thought when I get home though.” 

Helaena nodded at you, “I’ll speak to Cole after breakfast.” She promised, and resumed her eating.

You thanked her with a smile before doing the same.

“You should take it.”

His words came as a surprise.

You placed your fork back onto the plate as you looked at the man at your side. His face was honest and open, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace, or even the straight line that his lips did when he was upset. 

He was being genuine.

You brows twitched as you wordlessly urged him to continue.

“My sister, despite everything, is a hard worker. She’ll look after you and make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, her firm is likely more your style anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” You probed casually, trying to hide your real intrigue behind another piece of fruit in your mouth.

“More…” Aemond thought for a second, and then it came with a cheeky smirk, “Woman led.”

-

Helaena stayed true to her word and had Cole come to take you home, or at least, back to the private runway where that sleek jet picked you up once again.

You said your goodbyes to all, giving everyone a tight squeeze, especially Alicent Hightower, who you thanked for her endless generosity in having you there at such a tough time. 

However, you wouldn’t be going home alone. Aemond was coming with you, citing the need to be with you, and the need to get away from a place he hated.

When you moved to say your goodbyes to your best friend, you asked her when she would be back with you, mind wondering when you would need to part ways with Aemond's presence. 

“I’m going to stay here for the next month." She told you, "I’ve already emailed uni.”

“The next month?” You felt sadness in your chest. Another month without your best friend.

You were going to miss her.

“Yeah,” She kicked at the gravel at her feet, “Mum needs me here for the solicitors and the Will and Testimony reading.”

“Oh? Are you going to be okay?”

Helaena pulled you in for a hug and whispered into your ear, “I’m going to be taken away in a straight jacket by the end of this.” Before pulling back to smile again, cheekier this time, “Besides, I’m sure Aemond will keep you company.”

His smooth voice came from beside you, “I have no plans on leaving.”

The flight home was quick with his company, and on more than one occasion, you had to swat his hands away from you as he whispered the chance of joining the mile high club in his mothers jet.

-

It felt good to be home as you stepped through the front door, dropping your keys in the empty bowl, followed by the sound of Aemond dropping his in beside it.

It made you smile, the familiar scent of your apartment, the soft glow of light, it's tidiness perfect for your arrival home. You turned back, grin tugging on your lips to look at the man behind you, only to see him looking at you hungrily.

You continued forward, butterflied erupting in your stomach as you felt the warmth of his gaze behind you. You dropped your bags in the lounge room and stretched your arms up high, the day dress you were wearing sliding up your thighs.

Aemond watched you with a hooded eye, and the heat you had felt that morning came back tenfold.

And then you remembered.

“You didn’t make do on your promise.” You smirked.

Aemond raised a brow at you as he dropped his bags next to yours, hands flexing at his side, urging you to elaborate.

“You said you’d give me what I want after breakfast." You purred, "It’s past lunch.”

The silver haired man’s lip twitched as he looked at you, tongue in cheek, “Look whose gotten all bratty the moment we get home.”

Home.

The word sent heat straight to your core.

“Not my fault you're a liar.” You teased back, feeling confident to push him now that you knew where you stood. Now that you were home, away from his family, away from it all. It was now just the two of you.

You and him.

“A liar?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did I say when I would?”

You brows furrowed, “After breakfast.”

“And is lunch not after breakfast?”

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Dick.”

Aemond’s demeanour changed entirely, posture straightening which gave him an extra inch of height. He looked down his nose at you as he watched you take a smirking step back, “Come here.”

You had to push down the flurry of excitement that almost unleashed a giggle into the room, “Make me.”

Your chest rose and fell sharply as you watched Aemond take a slow step towards you, and then another.

“Last chance, baby. Come here.”

"No."

Spinning on your heel you ran towards your room, Aemond's boots beating on the floorboards behind you coming closer. Hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, squeal erupting from your chest as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“That was very naughty of you.” His voice whispered hoarsely at your ear from behind, hot breath fanning down your neck.

You stifled a whimper as his fingers dug into your skin before he threw you down onto the bed, face first. Your hands flew outwards, catching yourself as your hips hit the end of the bed. Aemond was on you in an instant, pawing at your dress as he ripped it off of you.

“This what you want, huh? Want me to put you in your place? Little brat.”

Your hands moved behind you to tried to slap his arms as he yanked your panties down your legs in one long swoop. Aemond tutted from behind you as he kicked your legs apart, your lip caught in your teeth as you tried not to whimper.

“Look at you. Already soaked. Such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand cast down onto the flesh of your ass and you cried out, back arching as the delicious sting spread through your skin. He pulled your cheeks apart roughly and spat onto your dripping entrance.

“Filthy little fuck hole.” Aemond growled, and you mewled as you felt his spit run between your thighs and drip down onto the floor below. 

His fingers smeared his spit into your folds, parting them easily as he looked down at you and cooed, your head craning back to watch him as he chuckled darkly, “What am I going to do with you, hm? You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy, baby?”

Your legs tried to shut so that you could apply pressure with the squeezing of your thighs, but Aemond's legs were in the way, preventing you from getting any release of the tingling that spread through your aching centre. 

“Please.” You murmured, pouting at him the best you could in the hopes that it would entice him to take you right then and there.

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let one long finger circle around your entrance, the tip of it just barely pushing inside before it came back out again, teasing you.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” He hummed.

“Please, Aemond.”

“Not my name, sweetheart.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes sliding shut, “Please daddy.”

The warmth from his body disappeared as he stepped back, your eyes opening to find him looking down at you with a stern face. Your heart raced in your chest, his height towering over you, dominance dripping from his every fibre of his being.

“Kneel.” 

Gods be good.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his hands coming to undo his belt buckle slowly, watching as you didn’t move. He pulled the belt slowly from the loops, to soft flipp loud in the room. The belt dropped to the floor with a thud.

“I said,” Aemond moved quicker than you could react, grabbing a fist full of your hair and dragging you off of the bed onto your knees, “Kneel.”

The wooden floor bit into the skin on your knees sharply, but it was dull in comparison to the sheer desire to be ravaged by the man in front of you. 

Long fingers slowly dragged down the zipper of his pants, opening it with languid movements as he kept his eye completely and utterly upon your face. 

“Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You watched as he pulled his hard length from his briefs, running his fist from base to top slowly, the tip leaking a drop of precum that he smeared down his shaft.

Aemond hummed, “What? Can’t talk now?”

You shook your head defiantly as he took a step closer, “I’m going to ask you one last time,” His voice grew deeper, darker, and it added to the slick that was settling in the crux of your thighs, “Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You shook your head. 

No.

Liar.

Aemond clicked his tongue at you in disappointment before sighing loudly, “Thought you’d say that. I’ve got a better use for that mouth of yours.” One hand in your hair, he tugged you forward, “Open.”

You don’t know what it was about this man, or what he did to you to make you the way you were with him. The way he absolutely ruined every inch of your mind and thoughts, the urge to both please him and defy him coursing through you all at once, but you wouldn’t give in. No, you needed him to react, you needed him to take what he wanted from you with force. 

So biting the insides of your cheeks to keep you from smiling, you defiantly kept your mouth shut as you looked up at him from your knees.

The corner of his lip twitched as he hummed at you.

The sting across your cheek came quickly and stunned you enough to open your mouth in a gasp, exactly as he had planned when he slapped you. He grabbed your jaw with the entirety of his hand and squeezed at the joint meanly, mouth falling open further in pain. 

Aemond slid his cock straight into your open lips, his heady weight sitting upon your tongue as he looked down at you, still holding the base with one hand, your jaw in the other.

“There you go. Far more useful with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted, pulling out slowly as you curled your tongue upwards, running it along the underside of his shaft, pressing into the long vein that travelled along it.

Aemond began to thrust into the back of your throat, letting go of the base so that the whole length of him would slide into your mouth. His cock was salty on your tongue, hot, swollen, and heavy in your mouth as he forced you to take him as deep as it would go. 

You gagged on his length, eyes watering as you shut them tightly.

Two little slaps on your cheek made your eyes open back up, staring at him as he looked down at you, “Eyes on me while I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You moaned around his length, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension that was building between them. But it was fruitless. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, and what you needed was his fingers, his tongue, or his cock inside of you.

The silver haired man thrusted into your mouth the way he would into your cunt, deep, long and hard, his tip beating against the back of your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and exactly what you had wanted.

You wanted him to use you like this, to get it all out, to get out all the tension that had been hovering over him the minute he stepped into the Keep.

He needed this just as much as you did.

A thick line of saliva ran down your chin, dripping onto your thighs below as both hands wrapped around the sides and back of your skull, dragging your head up and down his length roughly. His brow was furrowed as he watched, mouth agape as he breathed shallowly and grunted.

“Look at you," He cooed down at you, "Just a hole for me to fuck. Just a little slut begging for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You hummed around his length, sucking your cheeks inwards as much as you could. Aemond hissed at the pressure, eye sliding shut momentarily as his hips stuttered.

It was a glorious sight.

You below him, looking up as his head was thrown back, ecstasy breaking out on his features as his pearly hair cascaded around his shoulders.

Your head was pulled away, length slipping from your lips as you gasped for air, a line of spit connecting you to his tip as he cooed at you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, tongue poking out for him. His cheeks hollowed and then Aemond spat onto your tongue, its warmth spreading from your mouth, all the way through your body.

You moved to shut your mouth to swallow for him like you thought he wanted, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing down on your tongue as he smeared his spit along the wet, pink muscle messily.

With little care, two fingers slid down to the back of your throat as he looked at you, your mouth still open waiting for a command. Aemond slowly fucked your throat with his fingers, grinning at the small gags that he elicited from the action, before pulling his fingers from your mouth, smearing his spit and yours across your face, the wetness sticking to your heated cheeks.

“Such a messy girl. So dirty.” He purred, lining his cock back up to your mouth which you took with ease, except this time, Aemond didn’t fuck your throat. 

He slid his length all the way down your throat, cock pressing into your gag reflex and blocking off your air. Your nose met his pelvis as he looked down at you, shaking your head slightly side to side on his length. 

“Hold it.” He growled, watching as a tear ran down your cheek as you tried to not cough or splutter on his length, chest heaving as you gagged, no air being able to pass through your nose.

Your head grew dizzy as you looked at him, lungs beginning to burn, but still he didn’t let you pull back. Holding you down onto him by the back of your head.

Your hands flew to his thighs for grip as you tried to pull away, but Aemond kept his cock nestled deeply in your throat. 

“You can do it, pretty girl." He told you, "Five more seconds.”

Another tear slid down your cheek, the weight of him in your throat making your core flutter around nothing. 

“Five.” He began to count down, watching as you squirmed below him.

“Four.” Your nails dug into his flesh harshly as you tried to keep on him, throat swallowing around him tightly in reflex, causing a shiver to roll through his body.

“Three.”

“Two.” He grunted, pulling you down harder on his length causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“One.”

Aemond pulled you off his length, your lungs burning as you gasped in a lungful of air, spluttering and coughing at his feet. 

“Good girl.” He praised, wiping the tears from your cheeks that had left wet tracks down your face.

You coughed softly, throat aching and head spinning, feeling embarrassed and aroused all in one. The head rush from lack of air was almost as intense as the head rush you got from your desire.

“Open.”

You licked your lips and swallowed doing as you were told, feeling Aemond slide his cock slowly into the back of your throat again, but this time, you inhaled a large lungful of air in preparation. He pulled your head down all the way, nose nestled into the hair at his base as he looked down at you.

“Good girl, baby. Look at you.” You moaned around his length, feeling tears in your eyes again as he nudged your gag reflex.

“Hold it.” His voice cracked, watching a tear slide down your cheek as he brushed hair away from your forehead gently, “You're going to hold it for ten this time.”

Ten.

Oh shit.

You didn't know if you could.

But you wanted to please him.

You wanted to be good for him.

“Ten.” Aemond began to count down again, pushing his hips slightly forward, making his cock go even deeper than you thought it could, throat bulging slightly from his length, your eyes widening as you squirmed below.

“Nine.” 

“Eight.”

“Seven.” Your core clenched as he counted, watching through blurry eyes as he looked at you on your knees before him.

“S-ix.” He moaned, eye sliding shut as he felt your throat closing around him as your body tried to swallow the blockage that was his cock.

“Five.”

The room spun slightly and you began to shift below him, brain controlling you as it tried to pull you away to get air into your lungs instinctually. 

“Four." Heat rose in your cheeks as you squirmed, head trying to move backwards from his grip.

"Stay still." He growled down at you. Despite his command, you still wriggled, slick sliding between your thighs as it began to drip down onto the floor below.

“Almost there, baby. Three.”

Your arms tried to push yourself back, pure instinct taking over, your hands on his thighs, vision in the corner of your eyes going dark. 

Was he purposely counting slow?

Oh Gods.

He was.

“Two.”

You were almost there. Your fingers fisted against his thighs, and despite his face being blurred by your tears above, you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic smile that pulled at his sharp lips.

“Two and three quarters.”

Dick.

Your eyes narrowed at him, causing the man to chuckle.

“One.”

You ripped yourself away with a gasp, falling backwards onto your bum as you coughed and spluttered, drool hanging from your lips as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Aemond knelt in front of you, swiping up the spit on your chin, “Good girl. Such a good girl for me - You did so well.” You keened at his praise, leaning into his hand.

Aemond helped you to stand, pulling you over onto the bed as he stripped himself bare, watching as you still fought to catch your breath, devouring him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Let's see how wet you are from me using your mouth like that, hm?”

You parted your legs on instinct, giving him view of your glistening folds.

Aemond inhaled sharply, “Look how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over the bed.”

You nodded your head dumbly, brain feeling light as a feather. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of previous airflow, or if it was the way he was treating you, slowly sinking you down into the comfortable little space you loved to float in with him.

“Are you all dumb, baby?” He meanly cooed at you with a sadistic pout, stroking the hair atop your head.

You nodded again as he chuckled at you, running his fingers through your slick folds, the sound of him parting them obscenely wet.

“Just from being daddy’s little fuck hole?”

You moaned, pushing your centre into his hand as he swirled a digit around your swollen clit, sparks of pleasure flying up inside of you. His finger dipped inside of you, immediately crooking upwards into the spot you needed it most. 

“Look at this needy little pussy sucking me in. Do you need daddy to help you?”

You moaned at him, thrusting your hips downwards onto his hand as he added another finger, beginning to fuck them inside of you.

“Use your words.”

It took whatever remaining braincell that was left inside your head to string together one measly word, “Please.”

Aemond smirked, “Please what, little dummy.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Come on. Use your big girl words or you won’t get anything.”

“Please, daddy. P-please fuck me.”

Aemond smiled victoriously, kissing a tear that was drying against your cheek, “There we go. That must have been real hard when you're all dumb, wasn’t it?

You whined at his teasing, and then again when he removed his fingers.

“Shh.” He hushed you, “Daddy’s going to give you just what you need.”

And he did.

Aemond slid into you immediately, aided by how wet and open you were for him. He sighed into the crook of your neck, your legs immediately wrapping around him as he began to fuck into you, slowly building up the pace. 

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his hips snapping into your own as pleasure bloomed within. You moaned and cried beneath him, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen bud with each deep and rough thrust he gave you.

“You gonna cum already? I can feel you gripping me.” He huffed, watching his length disappear into your folds.

“Please.” You wailed, hands gripping the sheets beside you tightly in your fists as you begged him with your eyes.

Aemond took pity on you and slid a hand down to your pearl, rolling it in time with his thrusts, “Come on then. Cum on my cock.”

It took four sharp thrusts before your eyes screwed shut, stars appearing behind them as you came with an earth shattering cry. Aemond fucked you through it, hips and hand not once still until you were a sobbing and slick mess beneath him.

“Fucked the brat right out of you, didn’t I? Pretty little baby.” He moaned, rutting into your centre as the sound of your arousal surrounded you, the hair at the base of his cock soaked with your release, “Just needed me to fuck you stupid, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t form any words, mouth hanging open as little whines and pants flittered off of your tongue. It was overwhelming, and the pleasure of your first peak was yet to settle, bliss sizzling and burning within your gut in a way that continued to mount as he kept rubbing your pearl. 

It was almost painful.

“Give me another.” Aemond grunted, pressing his fingers against you again harder, watching as you tried to shift your hips and escape his circling digits. 

But it was no use, and Aemond ripped yet another peak from you with precision, your head lulling to the side tiredly as your body was thrust up the bed with his hips. You laid limply beneath him as he continued to fuck you, lip pulled into your mouth by your teeth as you whimpered.

“Fuck.” He gritted out through his teeth, hand releasing your clit out of mercy as he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, fucking into you harder and faster than before, beating the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy.” He moaned, watching as your brows pulled together, walls fluttering around his length.

“You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded your head, tear leaking from the corner of your eye as he continued to rut into you rapidly, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides to prevent the blood flow to your head whilst allowing for air, amplifying your pleasure and making you float even further.

“Gonna cum in your cunt.” He moaned, using the grip on your neck to pull your weight down onto his cock, spearing you open with each thrust.

It was too much.

It was-

Oh Gods-

You were-

Your brain went blank as ecstasy shot through it, scrambling any thought that you had. You heard his cry as he came deep within you, his warmth filling you up, but there was a second wetness that you noticed, that soaked the sheets below you.

It took a while to come back down to yourself, held in Aemond’s arms as he brushed gentle hands over you, holding you to him. You felt warm, safe, and completely and utterly exhausted. You shifted to look up at him, watching as his eye opened to look down at you.

“Back on earth?” He asked softly, watching as you weakly smiled at him, nuzzling into his bare chest. His chuckle vibrated against your cheek.

“Come on, we got to get you cleaned up.”

You buried your head deeper into his chest, “Don’wanna.”

Lips pressed at the top of your head, “Come on. I need to change the sheets.”

This caught your attention. 

Had you gotten your period?

Were you sweatier than you had thought?

You lifted your head to look at him, to which he gave you a smug little smile.

“You made quite the mess.”

You frowned, embarrassment creeping into your chest.

“Nothing bad.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead, “You ever squirted before?”

Squirted?

“As much as I love watching your mind turn and work, I’m lying in your wet patch.” He chuckled, shifting to lift you out of the bed. 

Low and behold, there it was.

A large wet patch below Aemond that spread out against your sheets, proof of your pleasure and the peaks that Aemond took you too. And despite having no shame, and being roughly and thoroughly fucked not too long ago, heat still flooded your cheeks at the sight.

After lazing in bed for only an allowed moment more, Aemond helped you to the shower, your legs weak like jelly as he washed you and brushed your hair, taking off your makeup with gentle steady hands that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Ever the gentleman, he popped you on the couch as he changed your sheets, remaking your bed before he put on the load of washing. It was entirely domestic, and watching him as he moved, as he doted. on you, as he fluttered around your space which had irrevocably also became his, it only seemed to make the little part of him that had burrowed into your chest go deeper.

-

You ordered in that evening, getting pizza in a strange reminder of what it had been like when he first moved in. The same pizza order, the same pizza place, the same two spots on the couch as you ate.

The two of you had come a long way since then. A very long way, and in many ways, coming to a place that you would not have thought possible or even to have thought to cross your mind.

You watched his favourite movie in comfortable silence after eating your dinner, before suddenly you remembered something. You jumped up from your spot, hissing slightly at the soreness between your thighs as you ran to retrieve two spoons from the drawer, then opening the freezer door to dig around inside.

Ah.

There it was.

The forgotten tub of ice cream you had carelessly thrown inside when a certain person was in your home.

You held it triumphantly as you walked back to the couch, holding it as you would a prized jewel on show for him. Aemond chuckled at your antics as you pulled the lid clean off, offering him a spoon.

“The first dip, My Lord.” You joked, bowing your head to him.

Aemond huffed a laugh, the pressure of him digging into the tub with his spoon pushed into your wrist. 

“Ñuha Riña.”

The accent sent a pulse straight to your core.

Down girl.

You dipped your spoon in after him, lifting it to your lips, “What does that mean?”

“My Lady." Aemond hummed, returning his attention back to the tv.

You savoured the ice cream, the tub becoming half full in no time as you slowly but surely demolished it together. It felt good to be at his side, to know where you both stood. To know what you both wanted, and for it to not be a secret anymore.

But you still couldn't get your mind to stop thinking about the way his tongue had rolled when speaking High Valyrian.

“Aemond?” You turned your head to look at his profile, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at his spoon.

“Hm?”

“Will you teach me?”

His brows furrowed, “Teach you what?”

“High Valyrian.” You asked him shyly, suddenly feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him that at all. Maybe he wouldn't want to teach you that. Maybe it was a family thing only.

Was that weird of you to ask?

Would it be a reminder of the tension back at home?

A reminder of his father?

Your swirling thoughts of doubt were cut short as a soft smile spread across his shape cheeks.

“Hen rhinka.” Of course.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

My love.

-

That night you slept in each others embrace, fresh and warm sheets on the bed, surrounded by his scent. It was no wonder that you drifted off to sleep so easily after the romp you had had earlier, not to mention how tumultuous the days before had been.

Yet when you woke the next morning, you felt refreshed, ready for a new start.

A new day.

A new beginning.

With him.

Aemond wasn’t in bed with you, but rather than feeling any sort of panic or anxiety about his absence, you crawled out of bed and went to where you knew he would be. 

Standing tall, leant against the bench, Aemond sleepily sipped from his coffee in the kitchen as he blew the smoke from his cigarette through the open window. He was clad in only black shorts, his silver hair messy and tangled, and the press of his pillow embedded in his cheek. 

Hearing your approach, he turned to you and smiled. 

Your stomach did flips.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

The familiar sound of porcelain on the bench scraped in your ear.

There, at the base of his fingers, was your steaming mug of tea. 

You took it gratefully from him with a smile before sidling up to his side, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“What do you want to do today?” You looked up at him, watching as he smiled down at you.

“Anything you want.”

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[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | do you have an appointment?

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 11.2k words, pretty wife visits joel at work when he forgets his lunch, and he wants to show everyone there just how good you are to him. and when you're good, you get a reward. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, exhibition kink, oral (m + f receiving), kneeling???, dirty talk, sir kink, pet names for reader, reader is joel's little doll hehe, little bit of domestic bliss, brief mention of alcohol, extremely submissive reader a/n: idek what happened here, it's been a while since i've gotten a chapter finished and went a little crazy with the word count on this one oopsie. i was plotting and writing this chapter then read this book and was extra excited that it lined up with this chapter so well so ANYWAY ENJOY! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

You love the mornings you have with Joel before he works, the ones where he takes it slow and sits down to sip coffee with you, eating the plated breakfast you set in front of him and chatting about what’s on his agenda for the day. You even love the ones where he practically flies into the kitchen, dressed and ready, and you can read the signals that there isn’t any time to spare for sweet chatter and a meal this morning.

This happens to be one of those mornings, with Joel buzzing around quickly, trying to get his things in order. He’d spent way too long making out with you like a horny teenager after already sleeping in too late for everything he had to get done at the office today, and now he was paying the price. 

“Shit, sorry, baby, gotta rush out of here,” Joel mumbles as he scoots past you, taking a hasty gulp from his mug of coffee. You’ve been standing, fingers curled around your hips, brushing the fabric of your silk robe and watching in amusement as your husband starts to fall apart in the chaos of his own doing. You can smell the freshness of his shower on him, his heavenly body wash making you take an extra breath in just to keep it with you a little longer. 

“You just worry about your shoes and bag, let me get this into a travel cup for you,” you tell him, grabbing the mug out of his hands before he can protest. 

“God, m’perfect wife, thank you,” he says quickly, pecking the side of your head as he passes by again, heading towards the coat closet near the front door. 

You hear him rustling around as you fill one of his favorite cups - a Texas Longhorns travel mug - and walk it over to the front door. 

“Dumb ass for scheduling this meeting so early,” he mumbles to himself, critiquing his lack of foresight in his own agenda. He has his shoes on and looks ready to go as he looks up at you, his irritated expression immediately changing into a soft, lopsided smile. 

His arms reach out to you and pull you in for an embrace, grabbing the mug out of your hand before leaning down to kiss you, long and deep. 

“Make it up t’ya later,” he promises with a wink before one more chaste kiss makes its way onto your lips from him. 

“You better,” you quip back, “Bye, honey.” He waves as he slips through the front door, and moments later you hear his truck start up, speeding off through the neighborhood. 

You sigh, shaking your head a little at your husband, but start to move along with your day, changing into your more worn clothes - an old t-shirt of Joel’s and some cloth shorts - to tidy the kitchen first and then get a good vacuum done all over the house. You find a few more projects - taking an inventory of toiletries for your trip to the store this week and a quick clean of the half bathroom on the main level has you feeling accomplished for the day, realizing it’s nearing the time you’re supposed to meet your friends for your weekly tennis scrimmage. 

You contemplate inside your closet for a few moments before deciding on an all white tennis outfit - a pleated skirt and workout tank top, completing it with ankle high socks and your white tennis shoes. You throw a zip up on top of everything and clasp on the sparkling tennis bracelet Joel had gotten you, claiming it had tennis in the name, so it must go with your tennis outfits, right? You’d nearly fallen out of your chair that day at the glimmering diamonds as Joel put it on your wrist for the first time, telling him that it wasn’t in fact something that actually had anything to do with you playing tennis. You decided to wear it most weeks to play tennis, anyways, just because of how sweet the gesture had been from him.

You open the fridge to grab some snacks and a protein drink to bring to the court with you, when your eye catches on Joel’s lunch, still sitting in the fridge and untouched - in his rush this morning he must have forgotten it. You frown, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to your friends, letting them know you won’t be able to make your usual time today and then pull up Joel’s contact to call him.

“Hey darlin’, how are you?” Joel says upon picking up, sounding slightly distracted among the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

“You forgot your lunch,” you blurt out.

“Oh, shoot, you’re right, ain’t ya. Hmm, s’okay, I’ll just grab somethin’ to go, maybe,” Joel says, sounding lost in thought over his current situation.

“Let me bring it to you. We could eat together?” you ask, biting your lip and hoping his day isn’t too busy to fit you in. 

“Don’t ya have tennis and lunch with your girls right about now?”

“Er, well, I already canceled to bring you your lunch,” you admit. You hear Joel hum quickly on the other end in contemplation.

“Alright, ya got me. Jus’ didn’t want you to go out of your way f’me,” Joel says, and you shake your head a little bit.

“Of course not, I want to eat lunch with you. Besides, I haven’t been to the office in a long time.” 

“See ya around noon, then?” Joel asks, and you agree that noon sounds perfect. 

“W-wait, doll -” Joel cuts in before you two can hang up.

“Hmm?” you murmur, clutching the phone back into your ear.

“What’re you wearin’? Your little white skirt?” he asks, and you lick your lips and break out into a smile.

“Maybe…” you tease, “I was about to change, though, if I’m not playing.”

“Don’t.” Joel says more sternly. “Don’t change.”

And as usual, you obey. 

You walk into Joel’s office building, part of a larger skyscraper downtown, and as you notice little details again you realize that you really haven’t been here in ages. It always impresses you every time you see it, though, the pristine office space and location, and it makes you smile at how successful your husband has gotten. You bet he’s as good a boss as he is a husband, you think to yourself, knowing that Joel’s business is one of the top contracting companies in Austin.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” a younger, sandy haired woman behind a counter labeled Reception asks as you walk up. 

“Oh, I’m here to see Joel - uh, Mr. Miller? I -“ you stutter uncomfortably - you suddenly feel a bit out of your depth looking into this woman’s curious, critical eyes.

The woman looks you up and down, assessing you quickly. You find yourself wishing you could hear the thoughts going through her head as she quirks a brow at you. You try not to be self conscious, but sometimes in a situation like this, where you’re not sure exactly where you belong, you tend to get nervous. You just want to see Joel and find some solace in his arms.

“Do you have an appointment?” she interrupts you, glancing at the computer to see if there’s anything on the agenda for this time of day. 

“Gosh, no. I’m his wife. Sorry, should have said that right off the bat. He forgot his lunch this morning,” you tell her, putting on your kindest smile and holding the little cooler bag up. Her eyes widen just slightly and she stares for a moment, her quick gaze roaming your outfit and body having a different meaning now, landing with a small, furtive smile on the high pony tail that had been swinging back and forth on your head as you’d walked in. 

“Sorry, he didn’t say he was expecting you. I can show you where his office is, if you need,” she says, suddenly straightening her back and cocking her head at you.

“No worries, I’ve been here before. Uh, thanks,” you tell her, trying not to falter your smile. Something about the way she’d looked at you made you feel… off - like she was judging you for some secret that you weren’t in on. It’s obvious you’re much younger than Joel, but you’ve never been bothered by the fact and you wish other people weren’t, either. Maybe they’d expected some frumpy older lady to walk in here, or something, and instead were stuck with the conundrum that was you. 

You try to shake it off and make a beeline to Joel’s office, but you find more eyes are on you - people looking up from their desks as you pass, doing double takes, their faces completely unreadable. Your skin is crawling a little uncomfortably at the sidelong glances from so many people you don’t know. You’re starting to regret your choice of outfit, not changing before you’d left the house, but you do know Joel loves this particular tennis skirt on you, and he’d specifically asked you not to change. You try to remind yourself that the only opinion that matters in this office is his, and it settles your nerves a little bit. 

“There she is,” Joel says sweetly as you give his office door a few quick knocks and enter. He practically jumps out of his chair to meet you, swiftly going in for a kiss. He takes the lunch bag you’d packed out of your hand and plops it onto his desk. 

“Hungry now?” he asks, and you nod, smiling almost dumbly at him. You just find that he does something to you, this man, and you can only smile and nod and be this submissive little thing around him most of the time. And it’s absolutely glorious, the effect your husband has on you. It's like everything that happened, all the uncomfortable stares from the office, completely vanishes once you’re with him. 

Joel gives you one more kiss, groaning a little into it before pulling away reluctantly. He rearranges chairs so that you two can sit next to each other and eat at his desk. He starts to unpack the lunch, pulling out a small slip of paper with a knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Oh, that’s -” you start, a small blush coming over your cheeks.

“I know what it is, darlin’. You pack them every day,” Joel replies, unfolding it and reading the small note you’d packed in his lunch. You started to get into the habit so long ago that you can’t even remember how long you’d been doing it. Putting funny jokes, sexy promises, or just a quickly scrawled I love you and tossing it in with his lunch each night became just simply part of your routine at this point. 

Joel stands up and opens a drawer at his desk, pulling out a small box that he opens to place the note inside. Your mouth hangs open a little as the realization of what he’s doing hits you.

“You… keep them?” you ask timidly, and Joel’s eyes find yours, his smile growing.

“Every single one,” he states simply, and you feel your eyes grow watery before blinking it away. “Good for when I’m havin’ a rough day,” he adds, finding his way back to his seat. 

You’re practically speechless, loving that the small gesture has meant so much to Joel, has helped him on days he’s here without you and needs a pick me up. The thought alone sends your heart soaring, filled with love for your husband and you lean forward to kiss him again, savoring the feel of his lips on yours.

“That’s so sweet, baby, I love it,” you finally manage to say with a tight voice, and he pinches your cheek lovingly before settling back in his chair to eat.

“Oh, hang on, darlin’, I think there’s some sodas in the break room I could sneak us,” Joel says with an effortlessly suave wink, leaving you smiling to yourself as he slips out of his office. 

Joel hears hushed voices through the open door to the break room, and he’s about to turn in when the words they’re saying catch his ear. He knows he should just go in, silence them with his presence alone, but he can’t help himself. He immediately feels a seething boil under his skin at what he’s hearing. 

“I swear, I heard from someone who went for like, a party or something at their place, she’s totally like one of those Stepford Wives. All dolled up and in dresses and aprons all the time and shit. I don’t know, just sounds weird to me,” a female voice says, and Joel’s brow crinkles further, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

“What, really?” a male voice replies, with a second female voice murmuring something similar. 

“I mean, didn’t you see her walk in today? The outfit alone. Cute, but like… feels like she’s trying a bit too hard, you know,” the first woman says, and Joel hears laughter between the other two. 

“Oh, I saw,” the second woman says with a snort. “It’s all people are talking about out there, seriously. Didn’t know the boss was such a sugar daddy.”

“I know, makes you wonder. He could have anyone, he’s handsome enough and successful, and he chooses to just be with some housewife? She’s pretty and all that, but like…. I guess to each their own,” she says, with a tone that indicates she doesn’t mean her words at all, and her judgment is still swift. 

Joel has found himself sucked into their conversation, listening from the outside with baited breath, a sinking feeling in his chest. Sure, he’s angry, absolutely livid that these three are being so hastily judgemental, but what’s hurting the most is knowing they’re talking about his wife. His sweet, loving, caring, absolutely perfect wife. Someone who always thinks of others, so giving, so wonderful. He knew if you heard their words, it would hurt you deeply, the thought that these people were talking badly about you for just living the way you want to live. 

Joel can’t take it anymore, swiftly turning the corner of the doorframe and entering the room. The three of them are mid-laughter and it tapers off as Joel heads for the fridge. 

“Afternoon,” he says casually, a knowing smirk on his face to try to hide his anger. He glances at the three of them, surely sweating bullets and all looking a bit like they were caught in the act, eyes blinking rapidly and smiles a little too forced.

They all murmur similar greetings in response, trying to act casual. Joel grabs a few sodas out of the fridge, wrapping his large hands around the cool cans and letting the change of temperature ground him a bit. 

He makes his way to the door, letting them think that he didn’t hear anything, that they got off the hook that easily. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the room, glancing over his shoulder at his three employees, looking so uncomfortable as they stand huddled together that he could laugh right in their faces.

“Y’know,” he starts, dragging it out a little with a small sigh. “I’ll bet she’d have nothin’ but nice things to say about you three,” he says simply with a quick shake of his head before turning, not even bothering to check their reactions. 

All he wants now is to head back to you, back to his wife, and give you an extra squeeze and a kiss for being so wonderful to him. You’re waiting eagerly, nervously playing with your fingernails when Joel returns, and you immediately smile widely again at the sight of him. 

“Hit the jackpot,” he says, and you grab the can from him. Joel leans down, grabbing your face with his free hand, slightly cold still from the drink and you yelp with a playful giggle. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly with a chuckle, moving his hand off of your cheek. “Just needed to kiss my girl.”

You meet his face in the middle and let him, his lips crashing into yours for a few blissful seconds before he sits down next to you and asks to hear about your morning. He keeps a firm hand on your knee any time he doesn't need to use them to eat his lunch as you two sit and catch up between bites.

“Y’swear, you made this bread?” Joel asks you, marveling at his sandwich - meat, cheese, and veggie toppings sitting between a sourdough recipe you’d been trying to perfect.

“I swear. I can’t believe you haven’t seen the levain in the house, it’s just a big gross blob in a jar,” you say, stifling a laugh.

Joel ponders his memory for a few moments before nodding. “Guess maybe I did. But m’point is - what can’t my wife do? So talented…”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the special attention and compliments he’s giving you, shaking your head modestly in reply. “N-no, it’s just bread,” you say meekly.

He squeezes your thigh, leaning his forehead against yours for a brief second as he speaks. “You’re perfect, darlin’, sorry to say it, but it’s true.”

You laugh then, deciding not to fight him on it anymore. Your face continues to warm from his compliments, your body tingling slightly as you feel a hint of desire pooling low in your body. You know that isn’t his intended result from the compliments he’s doling out on you now, but you can’t help but respond to his attention like this, feeling a deep satisfaction that you’ve pleased him in some way.

“Hey Joel, I -“ a voice interrupts, a broad, light haired man entering through the cracked door. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know - uh -“ he says upon seeing you, chair scooted close to Joel’s, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh. 

“S’alright Rick, what is it?” Joel replies, not bothering to move his hand. If anything, he instinctively tightens it, claiming you in front of a new person, letting them know who you belong to.

“Jus’ had a few questions on the Parker Street project, but it can wait.” His eyes flash back and forth between you and Joel, seemingly trying to size up the situation. Joel opens his mouth to respond to Rick, but the man smiles suddenly and speaks again before Joel can.

“Now who’s this, though? Don’t tell me you’re hiring girls to eat lunch with you now,” Rick teases, and you feel your mouth pop open and your face get hot at the insinuation. Joel’s face doesn’t crack, it hardly even moves as you glance over at him desperately, feeling a burn of embarrassment prickle at your eyes. You try to blink it away, hoping you don’t end up crying in front of this random asshole. 

Joel clears his throat a moment later, his hand tight on your thigh, sudden energy and irritation coursing through him and out into his grip. “If you need to hire your own wife to eat lunch with you, then you got bigger problems, don’t you, Rick?” he snips back, and Rick pales realizing what he thought was a light-hearted joke didn’t quite land. 

“J-just messing around, I’m sorry. She’s just - uh -“ Rick stutters, and Joel just gives a blasé raise of his eyebrows. 

“Careful what words come out of your mouth next about my wife.”

Rick seems intent on digging himself deeper into his own hole and stutters some more, trying to explain himself. “N-no, it’s just - well, you’re very beautiful,” he says, turning to you quickly. “Some people around the office, t-they said some things when you came in. Just jokes, that’s all, just you’re pretty and young, and Joel, well he’s… and… we just made funny assumptions that you couldn’t be his wife.”

Joel sighs, keeping a cool demeanor as he cocks his head in Rick’s direction “People really think my wife, my perfect little wife, is some random girl I hired, huh? After the way you all know I feel about my girl, way I go on and on about this perfect little thing right here,” Joel says, gesturing to you quickly. “Think I’d want anythin’ to do with anyone else?”

“God, no, Joel, it’s just - we didn’t know, she was… shit, so young, okay?”

Joel’s lips purse and you watch on, wide eyed and stunned silent by this conversation, not sure what you could even say right now to help. 

“Well, she is the age she is,” Joel says simply. “Let everyone know if they’ve got an issue, they can come see me.” He breathes an unamused chuckle, looking at Rick expectantly.

“You’re right, Joel. It was just s-stupid office chatter, sorry you had to get caught up in it. We know how m-much you love your wife. He’s always - always talking about you, promise,” Rick says, and your lips turn up a little at his groveling. 

“I know he does,” you finally say, keeping yourself meek but clear, turning to look at Joel and planting a kiss on his cheek. He turns his head, meeting the kiss and making sure Rick sees just how much you care for each other. 

“We’ll talk about the Parker Street stuff later, come back in… mm, an hour or so with Steve and Pat,” Joel says, glancing down at his watch. 

“Sure, of course, sounds good,” Rick says quietly, starting to back out of Joel’s office. “Again, I’m so sorry…” he trails off, and you smile blankly at him in return. 

“It’s alright, I get it. Joel does pay me in other ways to eat lunch with him,” you say, and you hear Joel nearly choke on a laugh next to you as he mutters an impressed curse under his breath. 

Rick doesn’t know what to do - smile, laugh, or let his face get a deeper shade of red at your sudden fierceness, but he settles on a strange, awkward combination of all three before leaving the door cracked shut behind him. 

“Now what was that?” Joel asks, turning towards you, shock written on his face. 

“What, I can’t give him a taste of his own medicine?” you reply, doe-eyed and smirking.

“God, no, y’can. It was perfect, so fuckin’ sexy to see you tell them what I do for ya,” Joel growls, standing up and pulling you off your chair and into his arms. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck in response to his movements, pulling yourself closer.

“Do you have to get back to work now?” you ask with a slight pout, knowing this lovely afternoon with Joel would have to come to an end eventually.

“Don’t want ya to leave,” Joel says, hand splayed across your lower back, holding you tight to his torso. “Could keep ya here w’me at work as my little pet, couldn’t I?” His eyes gather up a mischievousness as he considers his own words and what they mean he’d be getting this afternoon. 

“Have me, then,” you reply, your eyelashes fluttering as you blink up at him. Joel’s jaw sets a little tighter, a groaning noise working its way out of him as he grinds up against you a little bit. His hand gently taps under your chin, lifting it slightly and holding it there, cocking his head in amazement at you. 

“All mine, hm? My little pet to play with?” he asks, his voice going an octave lower in want. 

You dip your head in one long bow, and Joel starts forward, catching your lips with his. He devours you, forcing his tongue into your mouth quickly and you slide yours against his in equal fervor, starting to moan wantonly into his mouth. He’s already got you breathless, the way his hands move fluidly along your back, catching your ass in his palm and squeezing, the other one gripping the back of your neck, holding you in place.

Joel moves you backwards, slowly walking you until he collapses in his office chair, pulling you down with him and settling you to straddle his lap. He pulls away, thumbing your cheek and scanning your face, glowing and flush with arousal for him already. 

“Wanna teach some assholes here a lesson about disrespectin’ my wife,” he says. “Can’t have that, can I?” 

Your lips turn up in a smile and you shake your head for him, eliciting a devilish smirk from Joel. 

“Alright, why don’t ya stay next to me, darlin’, while I get some work done. See if any of ‘em got somethin’ more to say when they see how good my wife is to me.”

You blink a few times in confusion, your body torn because of the way he’d just been all over you, to not have it progress any further. You start for a chair, to pull it over next to his desk, and you hear Joel tisk as soon as you begin to turn away. His hands hold onto your back, stopping you from sliding off of his firm lap.

“Not like that doll, y’know what I want - need y’to help me relax a little,” Joel says, his eyes quickly dipping to the floor and back up, and you stiffen, immediately picking up on the change. You should have known better when he’d brought up the words little pet. You tilt your head innocently at him as he releases his hold on you, and feel your body moving before you can even process it, moving off of his lap, legs buckling and sending you to your knees. 

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, looking down at you, settled on your knees next to his chair, “Good girl, my good little wife.”

Your insides warm at his praise, bubbling with satisfaction as you gaze up at him seated above you. You have to admit that you’re surprised Joel has gone this far in the workplace - this dynamic isn’t necessarily anything new to you, and Joel does have to be in a certain mood to get as far as wanting you kneeling next to him like this, but you’re always more than happy to oblige. You love the way it makes him look at you, so pleased and adoring as you fulfill both of your needs and desires, turning yourself off to become everything he needs, and in turn, everything you need. 

“Now, you okay if people see you like this? Y’know the last thing I want is to upset ya,” Joel says and you nod. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a small smile, scooting a bit closer to his chair. You worm your way closer, nuzzling his leg before resting your chin on his thigh. “Whatever you need, sir.”

“Mm, that’s it, jus’ get comfortable,” he coos down at you. Your heart is lifting, thundering happily in your chest at how natural this position feels for you. “I’ll let y’know when I need you.”

You nod dutifully into the fabric of his slacks and Joel turns his chair slightly, patting his thigh before pulling you in between his legs rather than next to him, and you rest your cheek on his inner thigh, letting your breath calm at the warmth of his skin. Your initial nerves that anyone could walk in and see you like this, see you in a position they might consider weak or strange or even gross are dissipating when you sense your husband's presence so close, the thick muscles of his thigh moving underneath your cheek.

You observe his world as he starts to get to work, clicking and typing on his computer with a few irritated sighs. You can tell just how much Rick’s comments are affecting Joel, how the tension spreads and radiates throughout his body. He tuts a few times as he scrolls his emails, your eyes flicking up to the screen but not bothering to read much, giving him his privacy. He picks up the phone and you hear bits and pieces of the conversations he’s having, just finding yourself content to let your mind wander, focusing on the sensations at hand - Joel’s warmth, the muscles on his leg shifting every so often, the sound of his breathing above you when the room gets quiet. 

His hand drifts down while he’s waiting for the other end of the line to ring on a new call, his large hand landing on the top of your head and moving down, stroking gently along the side of your head several times. The sudden attention has you glancing up at his face, and he gives you a sweet look, eyes glazed over as he watches your lips parted and eyes trusting and twinkling for him. You melt instantly, a frown coming to your face as soon as Joel breaks eye contact and blinks quickly a few times, snapping out of it.

“Oh, yeah, this is Joel Miller calling for Devin,” he says. You then decide to filter out anything unimportant again, and wait for Joel to call your attention again as he places what sounds like some order for different lumber sizes for a new build they’re working on. He doesn’t move his hand, though, brushing it along your head in slow, repeated strokes while his voice drones on. You don’t even notice the way your hands have moved of their own accord, grasping onto his calves and inching yourself even closer to where his legs meet on the chair. Your hands are crawling up his thighs, rubbing them, and your face is dangerously close to his crotch now. You can feel Joel’s eyes peering down at your slow, steady movement towards dangerous territory. 

“Mhm, you too, bye,” Joel says, before harshly setting the phone down onto the receiver on down his desk and hissing through his teeth as he snaps his head down to look at you.

“What’re you doin’,” he snips, and your movements halt, a bit of fear burning through your veins that you’ve upset or disappointed him.

“Just… wanted to touch you more,” you say quietly, putting your eyes and head down towards the floor. 

“Said I’d tell y’when I needed you, didn’t I?” he asks.

“I know… I’m sorry, Joel. You just… make me so…” you stutter, knowing he probably won’t like that you’re trying to make excuses right now, not when he’s in this dominant mode. He’s usually pretty lenient with situations like this though, when he knows you just want to be close to him and aren’t trying to be a brat on purpose.

“Hmm,” he growls a little, his lip bit in contemplation for a moment before he places a hand on the back of your head, fisting your high ponytail into his palm. “I know I do, can’t help yourself can you?”

You shake your head in quick movements. “No, I can’t… sir.”

“Make it up t’me…” Joel says, dragging his words. “Suck on my cock like a good girl while I finish this work, then I’ll give ya all the attention you need.”

Your hand brushes gently over the obvious arousal bulging out of his pants, so close to where your cheek was just resting, as you graze your fingers up to his belt in a slow, tantalizing manner, garnering a hum of satisfaction from Joel. You’re about to pull it through the first loop when there’s a knock on the door and you jump, dropping your hand back to his thigh. 

“Shit,” Joel spits under his breath in irritation. “After,” he commands a bit louder to you, and you nod, staring up at him in anxious anticipation for what to do next. Should you stand, stay right where you are, get into the seat next to Joel? Your heart starts to pick up a little as you sit up straight, ready to move if needed.

“Don’t get up for them,” he says sternly, seeming to read your mind, so you blink and try to relax back down. His hand finds its way back to the side of your head, stroking to calm you. “S’okay.”

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly as Joel summons them to come into his office.

You refuse to make eye contact with them, suddenly feeling shyness weigh on you, your shoulders curling in as you find refuge against Joel’s leg again. You hear the shuffle of shoes and bodies entering the room and try not to tense up, wanting to make a good impression for Joel. You try to be brave, looking up at Joel and then turning your head to his coworkers with a lazy smile, and they’re already staring at you with a mixture of emotions - confusion, lust, disgust, and so many things you can’t read that you find it makes you avert your gaze immediately.

“The Parker Street project, right?” Joel says, completely ignoring the rapidly changing emotions on their faces. 

“Right,” one of them that isn’t Rick says. “J-joel, um,” he says, flashing his eyes to you a few times.

“My wife, don’t worry about her. She’s visiting today. Tell them hello, darlin’,” Joel says, his hand still moving lazily along the side of your head.

“H-hello,” you manage to choke out, giving them your name and hoping your voice doesn’t waver too much.

They awkwardly greet you in return, and you try to focus, focus, focus, on Joel’s soothing hand on your hair, the well worn fabric of his pants below you that smells like him, the promise of dirty things after he has this meeting. You find it calms you, wishing you could be exactly like he wants - perfectly submissive, not scared for these other men to see you like this, and you aren’t scared, per se. Joel just doesn’t always bring this dynamic out of the home with him, and it has you feeling more timid than ever over it, even though you do like it. The chance for Joel to show you off, practically in a begging position between his legs, knowing you’re in a skimpy skirt that he loves as it flows out around your hips and onto the floor below you. The thought of these men seeing how much you belong to Joel has arousal starting to pool deep in your belly, swirling lower and lower the more you think about it. Joel’s girl. His pretty little wife. Let them see how good I am to him.

Joel’s hand doesn’t leave your head as they all speak - Rick, Steven, and Pat all doing their best to focus despite the out of the ordinary circumstances. You can’t help but wonder if Joel cares, if he thinks this will affect the way he’s treated by his employees. You start to spiral out, hoping your eyes don’t give away the sudden panic and worry that you’re somehow doing something wrong, making Joel’s life harder by being here. His hand edges down to your chin, unnoticeable to the other men, who have their eyes trained downwards on some blueprints on Joel’s desk as they chatter. He tilts your head slightly off of his thigh, having you look up at him, and he can see the nervous breath hitch in your throat. His eyes go soft and he gives your chin a few gentle strokes of his finger. 

“Good girl,” he mouths, and you melt a little, still not completely rid of the tension. “I love you,” he mouths next, and you find that was the key to the lock, the exact thing you needed from him right now. Of course Joel wouldn’t have you sitting like this if he cared at all what these men thought, if he had any doubts. One thing you knew about Joel was that he wasn’t a man with many doubts, ever. 

You squeeze his calf lovingly and relax again, not failing to notice that Joel’s pants have a prominent bulge just inches from where you’re nuzzling against him. You feel the familiar crawl of arousal in your core again, starting to throb in time with your clit, and you want nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and start riding his cock right now in front of everyone. As if he read your mind yet again, sensing the low, low pooling of heat inside of you,  Joel decides to adjourn the meeting. 

“Hope that answered most of it, but let’s talk tomorrow, hm? Gotta get this pretty girl home soon,” Joel says to them, and to your surprise, they seem much more relaxed, giving out smiles and little chuckles and talking more animatedly with Joel as they wrap their meeting up. You breathe a sigh of relief and say goodbye to them when Joel requests you to, thankful you can be alone with him again. 

As soon as the door to his office clicks shut, Joel shifts in his seat, moving your head off of his lap and replacing it with his own hands. He growls a little, the sound deep and rumbling all the way down to where you’re sitting at his feet, eager to please. His fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it with a fury that you’re not sure you’ve seen from him before, deft fingers undoing it and unzipping his fly in record time.

“Get my cock in your mouth, pretty girl,” he groans, yanking it out of his pants - the tip exposed first, achingly red and dripping with precum. Your mouth salivates, your tongue starts to poke out before you even realize, desperate to lap it onto your tongue and taste him. He fists it in his hand, slapping it against your mouth a few times, looking down at you through hooded eyes.

“No playin’ around, either, no little kitten licks and all that shit - I want this fat cock stuffing your mouth ‘till you’re choking,” he says, his voice a hot heat that licks down your skin like fire, sending a wave of arousal crashing through you. Slickness pools in your underwear, and you rub your thighs together instinctually. You nod, your mind still processing the vulgarity of what he’d said.

“Your words,” he reminds you, and you blink a few times, swallowing hard.

“Yes, o-of course, sir,” you say eagerly, eyes fixed on the bulbous head of his cock, sitting less than an inch from your hungry, salivating lips. 

“Good girl.” Joel lands another gentle stroke on your head, reaching back to grasp at the high ponytail sitting atop your crown, wrapping it around his hand in a few swift tugs. He has complete control, his hand firmly pressing your head to close the gap between your soon to be swollen lips and his cock, and you open wide for him, not wanting him to even have to ask, and he doesn’t fail to notice. 

“Eager girl, so good,” he praises, the end trailing into a groan as he slips past your lips, the immediate taste of him on your tongue more than welcome for you. You hum around his girth, the satisfaction filling your soul instantly as he presses on the back of your head, sending you further and further down his shaft. He hits the back of your throat, and he breathes hard, nearly gasping as you try to swallow him down and gag a bit, but Joel smiles crookedly, loving the sound that makes him feel so big and powerful above you.

“Yeah? Chokin’ on this big cock, are you? Bet you love it,” he purrs, his fingers tightening around your hair in his hand, scratching along your scalp. 

“Mmm,” you hum affirmatively around him. Your mouth is so full, jaw stretched and hurting already and you can scarcely breathe with the angle he’s hitting you at. You bob your head, slowly starting to move yourself faster along his cock, and Joel feels impossibly hard inside your mouth. You nearly moan at the feeling of what you alone do to him, your thighs clamping together under your skirt as you feel your warm center start to ache for him.

“Fuck, pretty thing, so good for me, aren’t you? Suckin’ on me like that at work like the little slut you are,” Joel grunts out, his breathing more erratic now. He’s losing himself completely to you, his head thrown back into the chair, panting as you keep up the quick bobbing of your head. 

You continue to take him in deep thrusts, your eyes watering, saliva pooling all around the base of him and starting to drip. Your hand pumps along what your mouth can’t take and you’re becoming a complete mess, tear stained cheeks and gagging noises that only serve to egg Joel on. 

“Fuck, perfect fuckin’ mouth, let me fuck it.” Joel tugs on your ponytail, trying to pull your head back to hear the two words he needs, the two words you’re desperate to say to him. 

You slide yourself up his shaft in a long, slow stroke before popping the head out of your mouth. You gaze up at him, your eyes completely changed and fucked out already for him, and Joel nearly comes at the sight alone. Your hair is starting to become undone in the way it only does when he fucks you, your lips puffy and overused now, and eyes glassy. It’s a sight to behold, absolutely angelic, and Joel feels only pure adoration for you and gratitude that he’s the only man who can gaze upon this exact view any time he wants. 

“Yes, sir,” you say, lapping his head and waiting for him to make the next move. He bucks his hips into your small licks before he tightens his grip on the back of your head, holding you in place as he slides himself back into your warm mouth. He sighs at the feeling and only moves slowly for a few moments to stand up from his chair before he starts to thrust his hips into your mouth with more vigor. 

It sends you reeling, the speed he’s moving in your mouth now, so unrelenting, taking everything he needs from you as you choke around him and try to swallow him down. You feel the ache between your thighs that has been growing reach an apex, your panties undoubtedly completely soaked through now, needing him to touch you, to find some relief for your neglected, throbbing clit.

“I’m gonna come down that pretty throat,” Joel says among his panting breaths, shoving himself into you with a hearty thrust.

You encourage Joel with a tight suck, trying to flick your tongue underneath his shaft as he moves your head. He groans loudly, and you know he’s close, your hands flying up to claw at his thighs and hold on as he slams himself into you. 

“Yeah little doll, gonna come in you, gonna c-“ Joel cuts himself off with a swift groan of pleasure as he bucks forward, spilling himself deep into your throat as promised, painting your throat white with his spend. He holds you in the position, keeping himself buried deep in your mouth as he comes down, breathing heavily. You feel his fingers slowly relax on your head, dropping your ponytail before he plops back into his chair. When you look up, his eyes are closed, head leaning back, and he looks completely blissed out, making you grin in satisfaction. You take care to tuck him back into his pants and he smiles down at you, peeking an eye open. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, patting his lap. You clamber up onto him, letting him press you against his chest as he wraps you in his arms, kissing the side of your cheek and neck. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, and you grab his hand in yours, bringing it to your mouth. You kiss along each of his knuckles, carefully giving each spot attention before letting his hand drop and putting both of your hands around his neck, scratching up into his hair. He hums contentedly at that, nuzzling himself into your neck.

“You liked everything I did today?” you ask tentatively, knowing what his answer will be, but you can’t help but seek his praise. After a more intense scene together like today, it feels extra good to hear. 

“Mm, I did, m’pretty doll.” He pauses thoughtfully for a moment, his fingers brushing along your back. “Y’know I wouldn’t change you, right? Change any of this? I want ya just as you are.”

“Oh.” You blink and knit your brows a little, nodding. You flick your eyes to his face, seeing that he’s already studying you. “Yeah, I do. Why’re you asking?”

“Jus’ makin’ sure. Too much damn chatter in this office today. All I care ‘bout is you knowin’ you’re my perfect girl.”

You sigh happily and plant a kiss where your head lays on him. “I’m so glad you liked it, I just wanted to do a good job for you.”

Joel makes a low, understanding sound and nods. “Y’did. Bet my baby is all worked up though, isn’t she? Needs a reward for being such a good girl today.”

You practically start to salivate at the words, good girl and reward in the same sentence always seem to lead to glorious things with Joel. You bite the inside of your lip, not sure if you should show him how suddenly eager you are, but a small shift from you in his lap tells him everything he needs to know. He chuckles, low and reverberating across his chest before he grabs your ass, moving you so that you’re straddling his thigh. One hand stays on your ass, and the other comes to cup near your lower belly, the one splayed on your behind starting to push you forward first. His hand on your belly pushes you back, encouraging you to use his thigh while he raptly watches your features screw up into pleasure.

You breathe in shakily at the miniscule amount of pressure on your clit already, immediately tightening around nothing as you start to move yourself in time with his hands as they manipulate you. You feel the build up already of a quickly approaching orgasm, your breath shallowing and erratic now as you quietly moan his name. Your eyes roll back and flutter shut as you grind harder, and just as you feel yourself cresting that sweet cliff into pure bliss, Joel holds tightly to both sides of you, stopping you. You nearly gasp, a frustrated grunt flying past your lips before you can stop it, your hips wiggling but to no avail - you can’ get enough friction now, enough pressure to send you into the pleasurable oblivion you’re craving.

“P-please,” you whine, a sob threatening to break out of your throat as your cunt weeps and aches desperately for him.

“Now…” Joel starts, his lips brushing your neck, beard and mustache tickling you and sending another wave of arousal to your core. “If you’re good jus’ a little longer, do what I say, I’ll give you your reward, mkay?” He talks smoothly and slowly, his words hitting you deep inside as you whimper, trying to grind down on him again, barely able to listen to him through the needy fog clouding your mind.

“C’mon, little doll, know y’want more than jus’ this, comin’ on my leg, don’t you?” He pulls back from your neck and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyebrows raise just slightly in expectation of your answer, and you purse your lips a little but nod. 

“I need it,” you whisper quietly, your face scrunched up slightly in need as you finally still on Joel’s lap. 

“I know y’can do it, doll,” Joel assures you, his hand curling around your face and to the side of your head, smoothing your hair back. 

“Okay… w-what do I need to do for my reward?”

“You’re gonna head on home, I’ll be maybe thirty minutes, an hour behind ya while I wrap up here and sneak out early.” Joel pauses and you watch his face intently, brows twitching to hear the next part of his plan. 

“You’re gonna put on that little blue set with the flowers, you know the one right?”

You nod quickly and mutely for him, lips pressed tightly together, enraptured by his words. You feel your heart fluttering, beating faster already.

“Words, darlin’,” he presses you, and you pop your mouth open. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Lay in bed an’ wait for me jus’ wearing that. No touchin’ yourself, no coming until I get to you, you understand?” Joel thumbs where he holds your chin before squeezing it possessively. 

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. You do all of that, and you get your reward,” Joel says, a corner of his mouth tugging upwards in satisfaction at the way you’re eating up his words, sitting with baited breath. 

You don’t even have to ask him what the reward might be, knowing Joel, knowing it will be well worth whatever short torture you’ll have to put yourself through while you wait for him. You can’t say some parts of your body seem on board, your pussy still fluttering, slick, and longing for Joel even as you try to accept that you won’t be able to do anything about it for a while yet.

“I can do it,” you tell Joel finally, trying to straighten yourself and exude confidence, rolling your shoulders back. 

“Okay, then. Home now, doll. And do as I said.” Joel gives your ass a firm spanking before releasing you from his lap, letting you slide off. The both of you, unable to help yourselves, quickly glance down to catch a glimpse of the spot on his pants where you’d just been seated, and Joel’s wry expression at the dark, slick stain from you makes you need to take a deep breath, remind yourself of your new mission.

“See you at home,” you say with a stern nod, pulling yourself together. When you leave the office, you have a renewed confidence, nothing like you felt when you’d walked in here earlier to those critical eyes following you. You feel an extra bounce in your step, passing by the secretary who has one of those particular pairs of eyes. You meet her stare as you walk up to where she’s seated, and you adjust your ponytail, knowing it’s quite obviously much more messy than when you’d arrived from Joel’s hands as he’d fucked into your face like it was his salvation.

“Have a great afternoon,” you chirp at her, a genuine smile shot her way as you pass by.

She gives you a faltering smile in return and her words trail after you as you don’t bother to stop on your way to the elevator. “You too…”

You’re patiently waiting, your whole body taut and anxious as you lay back against the pillows of the bed, sighing. You fiddle with the straps of your lingerie, glancing down to make sure everything is sitting just right on your body for Joel when you hear the front door opening in the distance. You smile to yourself devilishly, your heart thumping and skipping in your chest. You listen carefully, wanting to hear the exact moment Joel approaches you after this long, arduous wait. You’d ghosted your fingers over yourself too many times, always stopping yourself at the last minute before you took it too far, not wanting to disappoint Joel. You know that he’d know, somehow. He could tell the minute he walked in the house, you’d bet - your guilt would permeate every room in the house if you’d disobeyed what he’d asked of you.

It left you a nearly shaking mess, vibrating with excitement as you hear Joel milling around downstairs, the refrigerator opening and the familiar sound of a bottle of beer being opened. You frown slightly, wondering if he’s going to keep up your torturous wait for him until you hear him ascending the stairs. You prop one leg up and drape your hands along your thighs, spreading your baby pink manicured fingers across the skin there, cocking your head and glancing towards the door. The bed faces the door and Joel gets an eyeful of you the moment he appears in the frame, his gaze roaming hungrily over you. He leans one arm on the doorframe, beer in the other hand, observing you from afar.

“Were you good?” he asks, taking a long swig from the bottle.

You nod, whispering a yes to him.

“I know, can tell,” he says, not bothering to explain how he’d know, but you believe him.

“Wanted my reward,” you say meekly, shifting your legs restlessly on the bed.

Joel approaches the bed silently, feet moving purposefully lazily underneath him. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing the top of his chest, and your eyes linger there, catching his curls of hair now peeking out of the top. He takes one more swig before he sets the beer on top of your dresser. He shrugs his shirt off and climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. His heavy, muscled form keeps you in place as he straddles you, bringing his face only inches from yours.

“You try to touch yourself?” he asks with a little more bite to his tone. His lips find the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the tip of your nose as he speaks. 

“A-almost. But I didn’t, I swear,” you say a little too quickly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Thas’ right,” Joel breathes, inching closer to your lips with softening eyes. “My good little wife.”

He brushes his lips against yours and you shudder and moan, the anticipation that’s been building for hours now nearly at a breaking point. Your hips lift off the bed and Joel moves his hands from where they were bracketing your head to your hips, tight and commanding as he stops you from grinding into him.

He slips away from your face, moving down your body towards your aching heat, observing the lingerie you’re wearing along the way. His mouth brushes along the swell of your breasts covered in the lacy, flowery, sheer fabric. 

“This looks perfect on ya, sweetheart.” He smirks against your skin and sucks, leaving a mark on each breast before he slides his lips down your stomach, stopping before he reaches the apex of your thighs.

You whine quietly to yourself, and Joel continues to take his time, a finger sliding under the strap of your panties. His eyes drift between your legs and his eyebrows raise.

“Babydoll, you’ve been makin’ a mess again,” Joel tuts, making a greedy little sound in the back of his throat. You can feel how wet you are for him, how you had been practically non stop since you’d left his office and somehow made it home, changed into this bra and panties, and laid down in bed, all of it in a strange fog, only able to focus on getting to this point, to Joel.

You crane your head to see what he’s looking at, the dark stain on your underwear, no doubt full of your slick arousal. Your face warms at him looking at it so intently, seeing just how wretchedly desperate you are for him, that this simple promise of a reward could have made you gush and gush for him.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, tracing his finger along the wet spot, leaving you to shudder again with a hitch of your breath. “Is it all for me, hm? All of this?” Joel’s finger slips underneath the fabric, running his finger along your slit and the inside fabric of your panties, gathering up your arousal.

“Mhm, mhm,” you nod eagerly at his teasing, completely intoxicated by him now.

“Tell me,” he demands, circling your clit a few times, and you cry out.

“It’s all yours.” Your eyes squeeze shut and you buck into his light touches, feeling like your entire being is on fire from the inside out, the intensity of need for Joel becoming nearly sickening, like you’d do anything to keep his attention right now. And you know at the end of the day, you would. 

“What is? What’s all mine, little doll?” He speaks so assuredly, so languidly, like he could tease you all day like this and not be bothered. You know he would, too, if that was what would get him off that day, and you shudder to think that could be the case today.

“M-me, my pussy, it’s all yours. Only yours, sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl.” Joel sighs, moving his finger to his mouth and licking it clean in a slow, long stroke. He slowly, tantalizingly pulls your panties down your legs and you feel relief coursing through you that you’re getting that much closer to what you need from him.

Joel takes in the now bare bottom half of your body as he tosses your underwear on the floor. He moves swiftly, grabbing your sides and flipping your body so that you’re straddling his chest and he’s lying underneath you. He begins to pull you forward without a word, inching your aching heat closer to his mouth.

“Better soak my face, y’hear me?” he says before bringing you down and licking a flat, wide stripe up your slit and you cry out.

“Yes!” you call out suddenly, answering his question as you’re overtaken by the warm sensation of his mouth. He knows you so well, knows your body, what you respond to, and he dives right in, flicking his tongue perfectly over your clit a few times, drawing circles over it. You whine, your knees wobbling on either side of his head as you grip the sheets. You can tell you’re already doing exactly what Joel asked of you - there’s what feels like an impossible amount of slickness between your legs, and you can hear the lewd, pornographic sounds as he laps and sucks around your pussy. When his tongue pushes inside of you, you roll your eyes as your hips involuntarily thrust forward into it.

He pulls out for a moment, his breathing heavy against your cunt as he speaks. “What, you wanna fuck my tongue, d’ya, like a dirty little slut?” You nod, forgetting Joel can’t see it, and he tuts. “Answer me, little doll, use your words.”

“Yes, yes, please, let me fuck your face,” you practically sob, your lips going dry as you try to lick them back to life. It’s no use, your mouth drying all over again from the panting breaths Joel is bringing out of you.

“Fuck, dirty thing, such a whore for me, ain’t you?” You feel yourself fluttering around nothing, desperate for him to fill your aching, tightening little hole again.

“Yes, sir, I’m your whore. P-please…” you say, and Joel growls before his tongue pushes back into you, and he gathers your ass in his palms his fingers squeezing both globes tight enough to bruise, and he starts to lift you up and down, controlling the pace that you get to fuck his face. It’s dizzying as you feel him sliding in and out of you, your body bouncing on top of him, completely out of your control.

“F-ff-uck,” you moan, “My - my clit, Joel, I’m so close,” you cry feebly, barely able to get the words out. Joel pushes his nose inward, making sure it’s rubbing your clit each time he snaps your hips back down onto his face.

“Oh, right there, riiight there, yes!” you scream, and Joel goes harder as he senses you tensing up, your cunt pulsating and starting to quiver around his tongue. If anything, he starts to pull your hips down harder each time, and your eyes roll back as you squeeze them shut, your vision going bright white while your entire body responds to the pleasure. You feel your brain go fuzzy and your skin burning with the need for him finally releasing, his name falling from your lips over and over again. 

Joel slows the thrusts a bit at a time, letting you ride the heavenly aftershocks into his mouth until you can barely take it anymore and you find yourself squirming to throw yourself onto the bed next to him. Joel lets you go and you roll over onto your back, panting with your eyes shut.

Joel is instantly on you again, wrapping an arm around your chest and kissing the side of your face. Your body still craves more of him, so you turn to meet his lips, tasting yourself on them and feeling how wet his beard is while it rubs against your skin. It’s igniting something dirty and primal and feral inside of you to have your own arousal on your tongue as it dances into Joel’s mouth. 

His hand drifts to your breast, groping it and sliding a hand underneath your bra, running a thumb over your nipple. You whine when he tugs it harder and roll your body to lay on your side and get closer to him. Your hips start to grind on his leg, already seeking more friction from him again. 

“Need me to fuck this little pussy so bad, huh?” Joel says against your lips, the vibration of his low baritone tickling your bottom lip. 

“Mhm,” you practically whisper, a moan catching in your throat when he shoves a hand between your bodies directly to the apex of your thighs. He brushes his fingers along your overly sensitive clit and you twitch your hips into it. 

“I missed you…” you say quietly as you put your hands to his belt and start to unbuckle it. You don’t even realize how absurd the words are, how short a time you’ve been apart from Joel to be saying that, but it was true. You’d keep Joel in this bed all to yourself if you could, if he never had to leave the house for work. 

“My poor little doll, needin’ me to come fuck her senseless, waitin’ so patiently,” Joel says sympathetically while you work on freeing his cock, sending it slapping out and onto your belly as you press closer to him. He’s irritatingly calm and collected, knowing it’s driving you even madder with need and lust for him. 

He pulls your thigh up over his leg as you lay facing each other, and he presses his cock between your legs, rubbing through your oversensitive folds and enjoying how quickly he’s covered in slick arousal. Your eyes roll back and you whimper, your pussy aching and tender, but needing him inside of you all the same.

He rolls you flat on your back and presses his lips to your neck, sucking gently and flicking his tongue over the little sore spots he’s making. You squirm your hips in search of him, and he grabs under your legs, pulling them up by the knees to wrap around his hips. 

“Please, baby,” you beg, feeling him teasing your entrance, the bulbous head nearly bursting into you, giving you what you want. He retreats, looking down to see you purse your lips and huff out in frustration. 

When he finally pushes his length inside of you, inch by deliciously tortuous inch until you’re full of him and he’s pressing himself against your deepest parts you moan out shakily. 

He moves slowly, dragging his cock in and out of you as you clench and unclench around him. You’re sure that the fluttering you’re doing around his length is making Joel crazy, but he’s not showing it, and you both love and hate just how easily you fall apart for him while he can remain so composed for you. 

“Yeah, that good, baby? That what you wanted? Or you need to be drunk on this cock, have me fuck your tight little hole till it’s all used up?” He pushes down on your shoulders, sinking you down into the mattress as he keeps up his frustratingly slow pace.

“Shit, Joel, use me, please,” you cry out, grasping at the sheets and arching your body into him. He moves suddenly, with a gracefulness and speed you sometimes forget that he has as he throws your legs up over his shoulders and starts to jackhammer into you. 

It’s only then that you see it on his face, the way he falls apart for you, when you freely give yourself to him, tell him to use you. He contorts his face, sweat starting to gleam on his forehead as he ruts into you over and over, sending you bouncing towards the edge of the bed with his rough movements in and out of you. 

Use me use me use me you chant under your breath like a sacred prayer to him, feeling your head starting to go off the side of the bed, hanging down while you lose yourself to Joel’s cock, eyes glazing over and vision swimming. 

“Not so fast, pretty girl,” Joel snips, a hand shooting out to grab at your throat, pressing you further against the side of the bed. You choke out a moan as he squeezes and grunts, simultaneously taking and giving to you in hard, frenzied jerks of his hips. “Can’t b-be gettin’ away from me, gotta let me use this pussy up, ‘member?”

You can’t speak, can’t reply, can barely even think in full words as you feel him fold your body in half further, pressing on the spongy part inside of you every time he pushes inside of you, his balls slapping loudly against your ass with each movement. You can only croak out moaning sobs as the pressure inside of you builds to a burning, aching release. He squeezes your throat harder and you break, crying out in your strangled, little voice as you gush, your entire body shaking uncontrollably underneath him. 

Your cunt spasms so hard around him your hips start to arch, but he urges them back down with his free hand, using it to anchor himself and fuck into you harder, chasing his own high along with yours as your walls squeeze him. You can feel so much of him, every bit of his length fucking into you as you try to milk his orgasm out of him, fluttering repeatedly. 

“T-too much, f-fuck,” you cry out in a rasp, “Joel, fuck me, I’m g-gonna -“ you’re cut off by your own desperate, screeching moan as you soak everything, cumming hard around his cock and squirting, covering Joel’s jeans, the sheets, everything. You shudder as you come down and feel Joel still jacking himself off furiously inside your tight, spent cunt, grunting and cursing. 

“So fuckin’ messy, fuckin’ filthy ain’t you, doll,” Joel mumbles as he slams into you with a few hard thrusts. He groans long and low before shoving himself as deep as he can, releasing your throat and spilling himself, claiming you as he paints your walls with his cum. 

You’re gasping for air from the intensity of everything, slick with sweat all over and your combined spends between your legs as Joel pulls out and immediately gathers you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. 

“Sweet little doll,” he mumbles, his lips ghosting across your hairline. “You’re good?”

“God, yes,” you breathe out confidently, barely able to open your eyes except to peek at Joel’s concerned eyes settling back into satisfaction as he runs his fingers down your bare arm, goosebumps cropping up at his touch. You shiver a little as your sweat starts to dry and Joel pulls you in even tighter, nuzzling your neck. 

“You were such a good girl today, y’know that?” Joel says softly as he attaches his lips to the skin underneath your jawline. 

“I was?” you ask shyly, popping your eyes open to look at him in questioning. 

“Mm, of course, thank you for helpin’ me today.” Joel moves so the two of you are propped up on the pillows, legs stretched down the bed and intertwined together. “Never would take you for granted - the lunches, the sweet girl I got, y’know all that?”

“I know, I know,” you say soothingly, cupping your hand around his cheek. “You give me everything, Joel, it’s the least I could do.”

“I'm gonna have to argue and say you do that, do everythin’,” Joel says, a half smile tugging the corner of his lips as his eyes sparkle mischievously now. You pinch his nose and squeeze it, scrunching your face at him in disapproval.

“Agree to disagree?” you say, one of your phrases for when you know that it’ll be a completely fruitless faux argument, that neither one of you will admit that the other is the more perfect spouse. You know deep down that it isn’t even close to the point anyways, that the only thing that matters is how perfect you both feel being together. Your heart warms along with your body as you feel your husband so close, exhaustion overtaking you from the roller coaster of a day you’d had with him and your eyes flutter shut again. 

“Agree to disagree, darlin’.” Joel sighs, tilting your face up to his. 

He kisses you, and the thought flashes through your mind that you’d never choose it to be any other way, any other person in the entire world to make you feel this giddy, this desired, this… like yourself. 

taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups

(sorry i haven't been updating as much to everyone who reads my stories, i've been going through a lot of insecurity lately and it's been hard for me to be inspired when i'm comparing myself to others or just being an insecure mess so anyway ty for bearing with me)

[luveline]

jadey - HONEY - listenlistenlisten, so I feel like you said you'd write for hopper?? but if not (because he's not on the official list) please ignore this request! BUT would you be able to write something about hopper visiting reader in the hospital after she was almost posessed by vecna?? whether this is still early stages of relationship or already established, you pick, gorgeous!! (also ik this means no hopper/joyce but personally I prefer hopper/me??) xoxoxo BIG SMOOCHES

ty for your request, love u! ♡

Nobody would ever believe you, but you know it's Hopper from the smell. You've missed him for months, and though the scent of him wore away from his sweatshirt before you thought you had time to memorise it, you know without opening your eyes that it's him sitting beside you. 

Your heart monitor beeps loud and erratic. 

"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't freak out." 

It won't listen to him, how could it? Not even the oily fog of painkillers can dull the reality of him being here, right here, this close. 

"You're supposed to be dead," you croak, peeling your eyes open achingly slowly. 

"Aren't you a little old for teen angst?" he asks. 

He's real. He's real, you're exhausted, you almost died, but he's alive. Tears well in your eyes of their own accord, not a lick of choice in it as Hopper takes your arm into his hand. 

"You look sick," you say tearily. 

"Nice. You look worse."  

"Where's your," —you gesture to his body— "everything?" 

He's lost a dramatic amount of weight, hollows sunk under his eyes. He grins despite your insult and leans back in his chair, hand sliding down toward yours, fingers pushing between your knuckles to twine them together firmly. "Russian weight loss program. Like it?" 

You're honestly not sure. Maybe when the shock has worn off you'll feel strongly either way, but right now it's his obvious alive-ness that takes centre focus. 

"I missed you," you say. You've not even a syllable into 'missed' when your voice disappears, the agony of your admission knocking the air from your lungs in one callous blow. "I missed you so much." 

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I'm sorry." 

You start to sit. Hopper stands and slips his hands behind your shoulders, helping you up with a tenderness you've dreamt about every night since he disappeared. There was no time to define what you were to one another, all these months you've been grieving a maybe, but you know the connection you had was more than real when he reaches down the millisecond you reach up. His lips smashed to your forehead and his big hands spread and searching like he's trying to stop you from falling away from him, you splutter as the air is knocked from your chest again. 

"Sorry I wasn't here to look after you," he says.

He hugs you for so long you figure you must be dreaming. There's a familiarity to his embrace even if the feel of him has changed, security with a little less padding. "What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly. 

"What happened to me? You just had something– someone in your head. You almost broke your neck, you could've died." 

"I'm lucky. I am. It could've been worse." It was worse for others. Your voice wobbles embarrassingly. It doesn't put Hopper off. You used to worry that being younger than him would make you too different; you aren't a kid but you haven't lived a life as agonisingly detailed as he has. You're scared there won't be room in his head for your weight, too, but there always is. "You're back," you say, relieved.

"I'm back." 

You breathe out. 

"Let me see you," he demands, drawing away to check you over. 

Your skin is clammy and has been for days, you weren't sleeping —sleeping meant dreaming. Hearing the toll. You've chased sleep with coffee and caffeine pills and bad TV, each day going a little more insane with wanting Hopper back. There were moments when you knew for sure he was dead, and moments you hated yourself for entertaining the idea. Whatever you deserved, he's here, wiping your sleep crusted eyes with a careful thumb. 

"Well, you're still a sight for sore eyes." 

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing until you cough. "I look good in the gown, right?" 

"Better out of it," he suggests, kissing the top of your head. He lingers there too long. You can read his mind for that single moment. 

He's not happy with himself for letting you face it alone. Which begs the question. What kept him away?

"Hop, where have you been?" you ask gently. 

"I'll tell you everything after you eat something." 

"Me?" 

"I almost forgot how rude you are," he says, rubbing your cheek fondly. "Shit. Like I could forget a thing about you." 

You take his hand from your face to clear a path. "That's romantic. Hit your head while you were gone?" He nods, hangs his head, lets you cover the back of it with your hands. You pull him forward, searching for hair he doesn't have. "What did they do to you?" you murmur sadly. 

"Don't say that. The neck up is as good as it gets." 

"I don't believe that for a second," you say, though you worry about what he means. "You better go find me something to eat. I want to know everything that's happened." 

"Got a waiting room full of people who aren't gonna like that," he says, lifting his head.

"I really, truly don't care," you say, still so softly. "I've been waiting to see you again for a long time. They can… they can walk a mile in my shoes." 

"Whatever you want." Hopper clasps your elbow. "Anything you want." 

[chaoticace2005]

Random short of Alastor’s shadow being done with his shit and becoming friends with our favorite losers. ( @xxqueenofdragonsxx @downthegenderriver )

Shadowstor was tired.

So tired.

Contrary to popular belief shadows COULD get tired. And Shadowstor was aware of that early on.

Okay… to be fair most shadows probably can’t get tired. Because most shadows can’t feel.

But Shadowstor was an exception. Because the very reason for it’s exhaustion is the same reason it can think to begin with.

Alastor.

Not the Radio Demon. Because Alastor himself isn’t the Radio Demon, no. Shadowstor helped with that. Helped more than it gets credit for (which is virtually none because of how Alastor likes to posture himself.)

And that’s fine, really. Shadowstor is a shadow for fucks sake. It isn’t made for being directly in the spotlight. Alastor is and Shadowstor fades into the background, being obscured with the focus on it’s counterpart.

The thing that does get Shadowstor exhausted though is the fact that Alastor has the tendency of being an impulsive idiot.

Now, don’t get Shadowstor wrong, Alastor is definitely a large part of why the Radio Demon has a reputation as an unhinged, powerful, scary individual. Shadowstor helped with the powers though, but really it thinks its greatest contribution was the fact that this means the Radio Demon now has some semblance of impulse control.

Alastor may not listen to anyone. But it’s usually kind of hard not to hear out a literal manifestation and source of your powers.

Usually. Because Alastor will still start a fight with pretty much anyone. He’ll go on the air and mock Vox for his crush. He’ll say ducks are an overrated animal right in front of Lucifer. He’ll 1v1 the literally first man. He’ll call Susan’s blouse tacky.

And all Shadowstor can usually do is sit back and watch. Because it’s bound to help Alastor. Bound to be part of the Radio Demon. But that doesn’t stop it from being exhausted every single time Al does start something.

One thing though about being tied to Alastor is you get to know others who are tied to Alastor. Others who are equally exhausted by Alastor.

Husk.

The Bar Cat was one being Shadowstor could relate to on a deep level. Because Shadowstor has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor. But Husk has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor and everyone else.

It’s because of this when Alastor is sleeping (which, despite Angel Dust’s verbal doubts on the matter does happen, Alastor isn’t an all powerful being, despite how much he pretends to be,) Shadowstor sometimes will go out, going downstairs to the bar that is usually only occupied by the Cat-Demon waiting from his not-boyfriend to come home.

(Sexual and romantic feelings are so weird. Relationships are so weird and Shadowstor is glad it doesn’t have to deal with that.)

After a particularly tiring day of Alastor trying to break into the Vees tower and destroy Vox’s body pillow of him, Shadowstor was exhausted. It had pretty much given up on trying where Vox was involved, because Alastor seemed to get particular joy out of taunting the TV, but it still felt like it had to try. At this point it was a matter of principle. It had fought with Alastor on this for years and it was not stopping to just let him win.

“Oh, my dear, you worry too much.” He said to Shadowstor before merging with it into the shadows and traveling across the city.

Fifteen minutes later Shadowstor had to rush them out if there because Vox had installed a shark filled moat around his office. Which Shadowstor had seen but Alastor walked right into. Because apparently “radio demon” powers extend to wresting sharks in the water (it does NOT.)

So now Alastor was asleep after pretending he had totally-not-been chewed up by some demon-sharks. And Shadowstor went downstairs to the bar.

“You too, huh?” Husk said to it, seeming to notice right when the shadow crossed with threshold. Working with the Radio Demon for years would get a person skilled at picking up changes in shadows quickly.

Shadowstor just nodded and slumped against the wall, putting its hands to its head.

The winged cat nodded in agreement, “I’ll drink to that.” He said as he took a half-full whiskey bottle and chugged it.

Shadowstor wished it could drink.

“What was it this time? Lucifer’s ducks again?”

The shadow shook its head and flat, vertically-aligned hand on top of it, making the sign for “shark.”

“Oh. Vox. Do I even want to know?”

Shadowstor shook its head again because no, Husk really didn’t. It doesn’t even want to start to think about the Alastor-Body-Pillow. Or the Alastor shrine. Or the Alastor fanfiction it found (which Vox should be lucky that Alastor didn’t find that because otherwise there’d be another broken TV screen in this hotel.)

Right then a beaten up pink spider burst through the hotel doors, going right to a stool in the bar and crashing onto it.

“Tough night?” Husk asked, already handing his not-boyfriend a drink that had been prepared even before Shadowstor arrived.

“You know it. Fuckin’ Val.”

Husk made a sound to show he was listening.

“Apparently Vox was pissed today. So that meant Val was pissed today.”

Oh… oops?

Okay, to be fair, if Vox is pissed at Alastor that isn’t really Shadowstor’s fault. It tried to stop him.

The shadow made a face palm again at its counterpart’s need to harass every single person he came into contact with.

“Wha- Smiles?”

Alastor’s here?! Wait… no he isn’t. Cause Shadowstor is here. And Shadowstor would know if Al woke up.

Oh… the spider demon is staring right at it.

Shadowstor shook its head, a bit annoyed at the idea of being confused with that impulsive buffoon.

“Huh? Husk, what—“

“That’s Alastor’s shadow.”

Shadowstor waved.

“Alastor’s what?”

“Shadow? You know? The thing that goes around with him. Helps with his powers. I’m sure he’s manifested it in front of you before.”

“Oh… yeah. So it’s just… here? Where’s Al?”

Shadowstor made the sign for sleeping.

“Sleeping.” Husk translated.

“What? How?!”

“His shadow can leave when Alastor isn’t conscious or controlling it.”

“No. I mean how did you get that from that?!” Angel says as he motions back over to Shadowstor which… rude.

“I know sign language.”

“You know WHAT?!”

“Sign language.”

“Jesus Whiskers, how many languages do you know?”

“Well there’s Russian, Spanish—“

“Wait. No. Back to the point. Alastor’s shadow just comes down here sometimes and talk to you?”

“…yeah?”

“About what?”

Shadowstor just makes one sign with as much as exhaustion as it can.

“Alastor.”

“Al— wait,” Angel laughs, “even Smiles’ shadow has a problem with him?!”

Shadowstor starts signing to explain the exact issue it faces with Alastor, Husk working to translate while Angel just nods in response.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe a fucking shadow has some oftha same shitty boss troubles as me.”

Shadowstor gives a shake and growl at that. Because Alastor isn’t it’s boss. It can see Husk about to translate before Angel cuts in.

“Oh… not your boss.”

Shadowstor nods.

“…so you’re like… you’re own person?”

Shadowstor shrugs because who knows. It wasn’t sentient before Alastor but it sure as hell is now.

“… you got a name?”

And Shadowstor pauses because no. It’s just Alastor’s shadow. For as long as it’s been around it’s never had a name. Alastor never deemed that necessary.

“Husk? Does it?” Angel asks when Shadowstor won’t answer which- hey it’s still right here. It can talk for itself. Or respond anyways.

“I don’t… think so?”

Angel turns back to Shadowstor.

“Do ya want one? Like… if you’re separate from Alastor shouldn’t you have a name that isn’t just ‘his shadow.’”

The shadow thinks for a second before slowly nodding, intrigued by this novel idea.

“What about… Tom?”

Tom?

“Tom?” Husk asks.

“Fuck. Fine, what about… Dusk? Cause y’a know shadows and darkness and stuff…”

Dusk… Dusk… it likes that.

Dusk nods and it can see the spider demon smile.

“Sweet. Nice ta meetya Duskie- oh wait. Duskie… Husky! Aw ya rhyme!”

Dusk can see Husk roll his eyes, and that just makes it even more comfortable in its decision.

—Later—

“So, you’re only able to really move around at night? When Al is asleep?”

Dusk nods.

“…Husk, what do you think Lucifer and Vox would say about moving our ‘Fuck Alastor’ meetings to nighttime?”

Oh. Oh Dusk likes this one.