#things get better. I knew that when I was seventeen and I didn't want to put in the work to make it through.

[harmonic-intervention]

Since it is almost 911-day, and I am sure to be proven wrong about all of my headcanons (can't fucking wait!), I need to put some out there about my special guy. Don't even know if any of this makes sense, but here you go.

When Tommy opened his eyes, he stared at the burnt-out corpse of a helicopter.

Oh, he thought, I'm back here. His thoughts felt thick and slow, and he couldn't quite make sense of what he was seeing.

He had been here before.

He had crashed his chopper once before. He had done several emergency landings, but only actually fell out of sky one time, and that was in the army.

He couldn't fully remember. He couldn't remember what went wrong, and the theories that everyone else had were just that - theories. All he knew was that he lost control, he crashed, and was the only one to survive. Three were dead on impact, one died before recovery, one died as the medics were still working on him, and Tommy made it.

He hadn't been awake when they had gotten him, and he had only seen the photographs of the crushed chopper, so whenever he found himself back here, he stood outside of it, staring at the thing that clipped his wings for years to come.

After, he was discharged and sent home, and the thought of flying filled him with anxiety, so he didn't. He stayed on the ground, only able to stare up into the endless blue and yearn and fear. About so many things.

He blinked.

"Tom."

He turned around, no longer in the middle of nowhere staring at a broken chopper.

He was in the backyard of his aunt's house - his father's sister. The person who had spoken was Michael, one of his cousins, who, like the rest of the family, insisted on calling him Tom because Tommy is juvenile! Grow up!

"You know the rules, man," Michael continued, sounding almost apologetic.

Tommy remembered this day. His mother had just died a couple of months back and he was still getting used to the loveless house and the polite coolness of his father's family that his mother had done her best to shield him from.

His thoughts felt disjointed, and he couldn't quite remember what this was about. Someone said something that made Tommy feel awful, at the very least, and when he tried to speak out, Michael had stopped him.

You know the rules.

Like be seen, not heard, don't disagree with the adults, and, most importantly, don't be gay.

It was the moment that Tommy realized he needed to keep quiet about everything. Don't speak up, don't do anything but nod when faced with their opinions, be straight.

He blinked.

"Thomas."

There was only one person who called him Thomas, and only one person who did it like this - slurred together into almost one syllable, always sounding angry.

He was back in the living room of his childhood home, seventeen, a backpack slung over his shoulder, his father sat on the couch with a bottle of whiskey.

He had trouble grasping his thoughts for a moment - hadn't he just been in the yard? Much younger? What was that about a helicopter?

He knew what would happen that day. He'd kissed Andrew Jenkins behind the old hunter's shack three weeks ago, and the rumors had finally reached his dad.

"What did I always tell you?" his father asked, or tried to.

He had said a lot. Never anything worth listening to.

"Didn't ya hear me, boy? What did I always tell you!?"

Tommy's father was not a man who liked being ignored. He yelled and roared, spittle and drops of whiskey flying from his mouth. Tommy stayed quiet.

"No fucking son of mine will be one of those queers, you understand me, boy!? So, when I ask you whether what I heard is true, you better say no!"

Tommy had to think of something about a forged signature, of running away, of a camp and drills and training and men just like his father, of a helicopter.

"Is what I heard today true, boy?"

"You're a sorry excuse for a man." Tommy was reasonably sure that was not what was supposed to come out of his mouth. He never said anything like this. He only ever wanted to.

His father, in a blur, suddenly stood in front of Tommy. His face morphed into Gerrard's for a moment, then back into the haggard, cross-eyed man Tommy had known in his youth.

He was close enough that Tommy could smell his alcohol-stained breath, something he had become too familiar with. When he was young, his father had seemed scary, intimidating to him. Now, he seemed weak, not able to keep himself upright.

All his life, he had wished he had taken a swing at his dad, just once. Fought back, just once.

Violence ran in the family, after all.

He had a hand fisted in the collar of his father's shirt. He didn't know how it got there.

His father smiled. He had never smiled. Sneered, yes. Frowned, a lot. Never smiled. It didn't suit him. "Do it, you coward. Be a man."

He hadn't said that in this context. Not to Tommy. He had said it to his brother-in-law after Tommy's mother had died and a fight between his father and the rest of the in-laws caused them to never contact Tommy again.

God, Tommy hated this man. He didn't hate many people, he didn't think. Vaguely, he thought that he would normally just wash his hands of them and never think of them. That sounded better.

But he would never completely remove this. He was his father's son, after all.

He blinked.

"Tommy."

They had moved from the living room to the entrance. He wasn't seventeen. He was 40, holding onto his father's shirt collar, and in the open door of his childhood home behind him stood Evan.

He reached out a hand, and Tommy immediately dropped his father in favor of turning around and accepting Evan's grasp. His grip was strong, a bit tight, clutching at him almost in desperation.

"Tommy," he said again, but there was almost an echo there, far away and urgent. He seemed to be staring right through Tommy.

He gripped Tommy's shoulders with both of his hands. "Tommy, come on. You gotta be here."

"I- I am?" Tommy said, or he thought he did. His voice got lost in Evan's.

"Tommy, please."

He blinked.

Then again.

And again.

He smelled smoke. The side of his face felt tacky and the sun was painfully bright in his eyes. His head was pounding.

He tried to sit up, but everything in his head slid off a slope and he dropped back down, closing his eyes against the spinning tree tops.

He breathed against the nausea rising up in his stomach, but that just made him cough thanks to the smoke. God, his ribs hurt. He'd probably cracked a few.

His copter had gone down, he remembered suddenly.

He had told them that something wasn't quite right, but they had sent him up anyway. And then, he started having issues with the rotor controls.

He'd tried for an emergency landing, but when there was nothing but forest underneath him, there wasn't excactly room to safely land a chopper.

He remembered being conscious after hitting the ground. He remembered crawling out of there and throwing up as soon as he got his legs under him, before he stumbled away as the hunk of junk left of his copter burst into flames.

He had made as far as his legs could carry him until he collapsed to the ground.

His head hurt. Breathing hurt. He kind of just wanted to go to sleep.

"Tommy!"

He smiled a bit. Maybe he could go and find Evan in his dream again.

"Tommy!" Louder this time. Closer, it seemed. Urgent.

How long had Evan been shouting for him? He'd heard that same urgent undertone in his dream.

"Tommy!"

He could hear additional voices, now. He couldn't identify them. He could hear the sound of several heavy boots making their way through the undergrowth.

Good. He didn't think he could talk if he tried.

For a moment, the sounds stopped. Then picked up again, louder, and faster, and coming closer.

"Tommy!" A heavy body crashed to the ground next to him, and hands on his face gently, slowly helped him turn his head to look at Evan, kneeling next to him.

He slowly raised his hand. His shoulder hurt a bit, too, but not as bad as his head. Evan took his hand before he could try to figure out what to do with it.

"Can you talk? Where are you hurt?"

Everywhere? Tommy didn't think he had broken anything but his ribs - miracle of miracles - but he was pretty banged up. He'd probably be bruised all over. He was probably also concussed, now that he thought about it.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed, and it felt like nails scraping against the inside of his throat. Kept looking at Evan, despite the presence of other people appearing at his side, other hands trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"Ev-Evan," he croaked, and almost regretted it immediately, if it wasn't for the relieved smile it caused.

"Yeah, it's me, it's Evan. We've got you, now. You'll be okay."

Tommy nodded as best as he could, and Evan didn't leave his side for a moment when he was picked up.

He kept mumbling his name over and over whenever Tommy's eyes shut for too long, whenever it looked like Tommy was about to slip away. He kept holding his hand.

"Tommy."

[neverendingford]

.

[lizard-ratt]

This idea got stuck in my head, not to be taken too seriously. If you find any typos, no you didn't <3

Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

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

Steve Harrington knew how to haggle. Raised by the most cutthroat business man in all of the state of Indiana, if not the United States as a whole, he knew the ins and outs of getting the best deal possible. He used this to his advantage a lot more than anyone knew.

The first time he brought out Steven Elias Harrington, son of Richard Jay Harrington was when he first got forced to sign NDAs to keep quiet about everything going on in Hawkins, Indiana. Despite only having shown up at the end, he still had a fat stack of papers to work through.

And he worked through the entire thing, taking his sweet precious time to read the entire thing, word for word. He signed nothing that day, letting the government employees watch as he took notes on every little detail, humming to himself, scoffing, and overall being as annoying about it as possible.

"These are terrible. Do better." He didn't say that exactly, but it was the general consensus as he gave them a verbal dressing down that would make his father proud (and his father was never proud). He made demands for money, for protections, for anything that he could think of. By the end, the government had agreed to provide him with a heaping helping of cash (enough to buy a house and help him live a comfortable life for the next twenty-or-so odd years), government provided medical insurance (complete coverage for the rest of his life), and a full ride scholarship for any college he wanted to go to.

Suffice to say he had rung that towel dry of anything he could ask of it. He knew that those government employees wished nothing but the worst for him, but he was satisfied with what he got, and he happily signed the fifth NDA they provided him with, flourishing his signature with relish.

Then, he became even more wrapped up in the whole thing when Dustin Henderson decided to raise a baby Demogorgon in his basement. A lot happened in those forty-eight hours, but the main one was that he got attached to the little shits, so he told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to sign anything before he looked the paperwork over.

They scoffed, rolled their eyes, but ultimately agreed. It was a very amusing few days, to say the least. The government agents (the same ones as last time) showed up with their giant stacks of paper, and came face to face with Steven Elias Harrington, and he could just see them die a little bit inside. He could practically hear what remained of their souls wither to dust.

And again, he forced them to sit as he read through every NDA, taking notes, scoffing, humming, and overall being a nuisance to them and their time. Then, he got the kids' attentions (as their eyes started to glaze over after minute thirty) and began his process.

The looks of pure awe, too, would be treasured for a very long time as he got their college tuitions paid for, government-provided medical insurance for the rest of their lives, and of course a big fat pile of cash ready for when they would turn seventeen years old. Each of them had enough money lined up for them that they wouldn't have to worry about anything until maybe their late fifties to early sixties if they were bad with their money.

And of course, he got himself another big pile of cash and access to the best lawyers in the United States if he would ever have need of it.

After that, he shouldn't have been surprised when everyone came to him for help post-Battle of Starcourt (dubbed by Dustin, of course). This time, he took two solid weeks pushing and pulling Uncle Sam in this direction and that to make sure everyone got what they needed. (Another fat stack of cash for everyone, legal protection for whatever they'd need it for, and a cover story that made everyone look the best that they possibly could. He also got college payment for Robin, since she wasn't there the first time, as well as the same medical insurance he got everyone else). Those government employees looked at Steve like he was the devil himself.

"You kinda are," Robin told him one day, after Steve recounted the specifics. "I mean, you are bleeding the government dry."

He gave her a grin. "Absolutely, I am."

Then, he and his merry band of misfits saved the world, stopping the Upside Down for good. The same government goons showed up, and instead of doing what they tried to do the previous time, they just came to Steve with all of the NDAs, and asked in the most sarcastically professional voice imaginable, "Are these up to your standers, Mr. Harrington?"

He gave his charming, King Steve smile and told them that he'd read it over. In the hospital room that held Max and Eddie, Steve pulled up a table and allowed everyone to watch as he flipped page after page, noting down the loophole phrases and weak protections, and every single trap meant to put them into a worse-off position and he threw it in the government's faces.

In return, he forced everything his heart could imagine out of them.

Another giant hunk of change for each of them.

Eddie Munson free of all charges, effective immediately

Government-provided medical insurance for Eddie Munson for the rest of his long, long life

A cover story so beautiful, so concrete that it got even the most closed minded to look at Steve's People and call them heroes.

A house for Eddie and his Uncle Wayne

"I hope I never see your face ever again," the man told Steve, forgoing all niceties at that point. "You're going to burn in hell."

"I'll save you both a seat," he told him with his sweetest, most charming smile.

The government agents left, and in their wake, Eddie Munson looked at him like he hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky.

"Wow," was all the metalhead was able to get out for a while. "Just wow."

Robin glanced between Steve and Eddie, leaned into his side and quietly sang, "The lovers, the dreamers, and me."

Now on AO3

[milo-is-rambling]

Yeah okay maybe I am still upset about one of my (dedicated to...)people ,,, I'm listening to the playlist I made for him when I sent him a penpal letter while sitting in the bottom of the bathtub staring at the ceiling and thinking about all the ways he hurt my feelings and why I should be okay with never talking to him again, and yet here I am missing him and thinking about his lips and his hands and I'm probably just starved of intimacy/physical affection and he was willing to fuck me + give me half assed attention but I am sad nonetheless

[lovelyhan]

— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not. 

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words 

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff,  smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining. 

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street. 

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.” 

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth. 

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him. 

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine. 

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving. 

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad. 

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk. 

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted. 

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.” 

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.” 

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder. 

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things. 

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.” 

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones. 

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.  

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you. 

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes. 

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur. 

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle. 

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly. 

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?! 

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.” 

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business. 

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here. 

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you. 

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up. 

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away. 

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma? 

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over. 

You’re nowhere to be found. 

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax. 

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—” 

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers. 

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance. 

You’re not about to let it go to waste. 

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips. 

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound. 

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure. 

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy. 

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit. 

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions. 

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.” 

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?” 

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?” 

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart. 

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers. 

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm. 

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.” 

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…” 

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight. 

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.  

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[hannieehaee]

Can I request this? A wonwoo oneshot where they had a fight at the company which leads to the oc to storm out and later wonwoo finds out that on the way home she got really sick but at the moment the oc is in the library. So wonwoo mission is to get the oc out of there but she’s giving him the silent treatment somehow😁

content: established relationship, idol!wonwoo, afab reader, public argument, angst, fluff, etc.

wc: 987

a/n: i did my best to include all the main details of the prompt into a short drabble i hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

you knew you were being quite immature.

yeah, it was just a small altercation with wonwoo over some small thing, but that had just been what it snowballed into.

it had only been a few days since wonwoo got back from tour, having been gone for a few weeks with limited contact with you due to timezones and his packed schedule. you understood. you were no newbie at this. by now it had been a while since you had began dating wonwoo, so you were already an expert on the ins and outs of dating an idol. however, you still demanded some type of attention.

when wonwoo finally arrived, you had expected that maybe he'd try a little harder to spend time with you. while you understood that he was likely very tired from touring, seeing the way in which he isolated himself rather than dedicate at least a bit of his free time to you did hurt your feelings.

had he not missed you as much as you did him?

this led to a one-sided silent treatment. he, of course, didn't really notice as the two of you weren't spending much time together anyways. though you were still on speaking terms with him, you were very curt and short in your interactions. something which he, yet again, had no reaction to.

which is what led to an embarrassing argument just a few hours ago. at the company. in front of his members.

it wasn't anything too big. it was mostly complaints about his terrible time management when it cane to sustaining your relationship. already hurt and having made the mistake of not communicating your issues to your boyfriend, you snapped when you stopped by the company to get lunch with him, only to be told he already had plans with his members.

after an embarrassing rant in front of half of seventeen, you stormed out, leaving a very confused wonwoo behind and finally allowing him to realize that he had unknowingly iced you out.

it felt like shit, to be quite honest. you felt invisible to him. was picking a fight the only way to get him to react?

things weren't always like this. wonwoo had always been the most comforting person you'd known. maybe he was a little reserved and shy at times, but he was always showing you his unconditional love. whether it was through his words or through silent acts of affection, he had never made you feel unwanted or ignored.

even when he'd return from a tiring tour, he'd isolate himself with you. you'd lock yourselves away from the world and simply exist with one another, encompassing each other in the love you shared. this time around, wonwoo had somehow forgotten about you, simply sharing a living space with you rather than being your home.

the worst thing was that he was entirely unaware. the moment you confronted him, you could see the shock in his eyes. wonwoo hadn't even realized he had been withholding himself from you emotionally. the more frustrated your voice grew as you ranted, the more his confusion transformed into hurt. he was hurt at the realization that you'd been hurting because of him – all while he thought everything was fine.

this made you feel miserable as soon as you made your way out of the company. fully aware that you should've communicated your distress to him earlier, you still left, embarrassed at the scene you caused and hurt that he hadn't considered your feelings until you shoved them in his face.

was it so wrong of you to have wanted him to realize on his own? you thought he knew you better than anyone, so it shouldn't have been too difficult a task to realize. right?

and now you were alone.

upon leaving the scene, teary eyed and embarrassed that you had shown such a vulnerable part of yourself in such a public setting, – in front of some of his friends, at that – you went to the place that brought you most comfort. you needed silence, so you went to a secluded library in town.

you and wonwoo would sometimes frequent this place. as both a bookworm and the girlfriend of a popular idol, this was one of the only places you could really go with wonwoo. it was secluded and quiet, meaning that you could simply exist around each other while not being perceived by anyone else. the memory of your times together there made you feel unable to concentrate, so you simply sat in silence for a while.

it wasn't too difficult for wonwoo to find you there. he had assumed you wouldn't just go back home, so he searched from you in places he knew you loved. this had been his second guess, right after the han river, where you would sometimes walk together at night.

sitting in your usual spot, wonwoo quietly approached you, sitting next to you. neither of you said anything. the first contact between you two came in the form of wonwoo's pinky seeking your own, twisting it with yours in a sweet manner. there was no way for you to deny him, so you humored him, eventually holding his hand as his fingers graced your own.

"im sorry," he whispered, looking down at his lap.

"yeah?", you whispered back.

"i take you for granted sometimes. you wait for me here and you put up with my hectic life and i ... i forget that i should reassure you of my love. im so sure of how i feel about you that i forget to let you know every single day. it wont happen again," he finished, eyes now boring into yours.

"can you say it?"

"i love you. you'll never have to ask me again. okay? i love you."

"i love you too."

"let me take you home?" he asked, leaning into you as you sat side by side.

"yeah."

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Seventeen - The Third Date

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.1K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

warnings: smut, p in v, hickies, blowjob

Series Masterlist

The third date. That was meant to be the big one, right? The one where... it happened? She had no reason to be nervous. It was Daniel, a man she knew incredibly well, a man she was pretty sure she was in love with.

With Milo eating his dinner, Y/N went to the neighbours door and knocked.

The neighbours Seventeen year old daughter pulled open the door. "Hey Miss L/N," she said. "Do you want me to get my mum?"

"Actually, Mol, I'm here to see you. Would you fancy babysitting Milo tonight? I can pay and I've got pizza money for you," she said.

"I'd love to," Mollie answered. "Let me just check with my mom."

The door shut in Y/Ns face and she waited patiently for Mollie to get back to her with an answer. If she couldn't get a babysitter for Milo she'd just have to reschedule with Daniel. Daniel wouldn't mind. He might even suggest to bring Milo along.

The door opened again and Mollie nodded her head. "She said its fine, Miss L/N. What time do you want me there?" She asked.

At 7PM, Y/N was ready to go. She was dressed to the nines, wearing her favourite dress, her favourite shoes and her favourite jewellery. Milo had told her all about his new favourite dinosaur as she did her hair and makeup.

At 7PM, Mollie the neighbour came over to begin babysitting and Y/N left. She kissed Milos head as she said goodbye and walked out of the front door, driving her way to Daniels house.

She didn't know what he had in store for their third date. Neither did Daniel until a couple of days ago. All he knew was that be wanted it to be special. Just them, not surrounded by loads and loads of people.

For days he had been attempting to cook and forcing his friends to try it. Day by day he got slightly better, but he was still nervous about the date to come.

He had started cooking as Y/N drove. He had done his preparation fir the meal during the day. All that was left to do now was cook it.

Just like she was, Daniel was dressed at his best. It felt incredibly strange to be dressed in a suit for a dinner in his own house. The candles were set out on the table, along with his best wine and best cutlery. This night was going to be perfect.

The doorbell rang and Daniel felt his anxiety spike. It didn't need to, it was Y/N, the person he was expecting.

When the door opened, his breath caught his his throat. He knew she was beautiful, knew she was incredibly beautiful, but this was something else. "Holy shit," he breathed as he welcomed her into the house.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away the imprint of her lipstick was still there and she went to wipe it away, bur Daniel stopped her. He'd wear it with pride for the entire night.

"Milo is with a babysitter, so you've got me for the entire night," she said as Daniel led her into his kitchen.

He lit the candles and poured her some wine. The night started out as easy, light conversation. They sipped the wine slowly as they talked, and the conversation turned to heavier topics, the kinds of things they found themselves talking about late at night where she couldn't sleep and Daniel was in another country.

He tried with the dinner, he really did. But she had to step in. The recipe was open on the counter top and she cooked away.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said as he wrapped her arms around her hips. "I'm so useless."

"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she moved the food around in the pan, ensuring it cooked evenly. "It's a good thing I enjoy cooking, huh?"

She plated the food up and they sat at the table, talking their way through dinner.

"This is the third date," said Danny between bites of the food. That was delicious, but it didn't surprise him. "And, since it's the third date I was wondering if... you'd..."

It was so difficult to get the words out of his mouth. And she didn't want to assume that he wanted to take things to the next level.

Daniel groaned and finished off his glass of wine. That was all if the courage he needed. "Be my girl," he said. "I want to love you properly."

The dinner was abandoned. The moved around the table to get to each other. As soon as they were together she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed hers on her hips, holding her flush against him.

"Yes, Danny. Oh My God, yes."

He pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her hands Oundle his hair, moving through it, tugging at the strands.

Daniel couldn't stop the groan that left his lips. His body was fully pressed against hers, pressing her against the table. "Fuck," he groaned, his grip growing tighter. He ever so slightly hiked up the skirts of her dress.

"Take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips.

Daniel picked her up. He took her into his arms and carried her through his house. It was incredibly romantic, the way he held her so tight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he carried her up the stairs. This must be how wonderful brides felt on their wedding days.

Daniel took her into her bedroom and laid her down onto the bed. As soon as he could he resumed kissing her, his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress. They'd kissed before, sure, but they didn't usually allow this for themselves, didn't allow for this much intimacy.

But they couldn't stay away from each other. Daniel wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. It was a good thing she wanted him too.

Her skirts bunched up around her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. Daniel couldn't help himself; he rutted against her. She whined, her hands finding his hair, tugging slightly. He couldn't stop the groan leaving his lips.

"I need you," she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Daniel obliged, unzipping her dress. He pushed it off of her shoulders, goose bumps following where he touched. "Danny," she whispered.

He slowly pulled her dress all of the way off until she was in nothing but lingerie beneath him. She'd taken her time choosing it out. It was her best pair, the only pair truly sexy. It was plain, with thin straps around her shoulders and her hips. A small bow sat in the centre of each piece of underwear, and the border was scalloped.

Daniel let out a low whistle. He wanted this image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. She looked so pretty laid out in front of him, laid out for him. He let his hand trail down her sides and she shivered.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, letting his clothes fall next to her dress. As soon as he was in nothing but his boxers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.

Daniel held her tight. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she was sat on him, hips moving on top of his. His eyes were shut as he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck," he hissed and she leaned down to kiss him again.

But the kiss didn't last very long. Soon Daniel was kissing down her neck. He didn't leave a hickey, not until he got to her chest. A series of moans left her lips as he kissed her chest, paying attention to what wasn't covered by her bra. "Danny," she moaned as he reached behind and unclasped the bra.

It fell away from her chest and Daniel threw it to the side. Immediately he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh, marking her as his. Her head was thrown back and she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against him.

But suddenly she pulled away from him. He climbed off of him and Daniel tried to follow, but she pushed him back down, keeping him laying on the bed. She shuffled down to the bed until she was between his legs and pulling at his boxers, freeing his cock.

She wrapped her fingers around his already hard length and pumped. Once, twice, before she wrapped her lips around his tip. "Holy shit," Daniel cried out, accidentally bucking his hips towards her.

He escaped from her mouth but she quickly wrapped her lips around him once again. She ran her tongue along the veiny underside and moved her lips down his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed and she closed her eyes, concentrating all of her efforts into bringing him close to the edge.

Only close. He wasn't going to cum until he'd had his turn with her. But that wasn't her decision. Daniel pulled her off of him and pulled her up. He rolled her over once again, trapping her beneath him. He kissed her, his fingers hooking around the strappy waistband of her panties.

He pulled her panties off and dropped them onto the floor. Daniel pushed his fingers gently through her folds, feeling just how wet she was. He couldn't wait to be inside of her.

And he didn't have to wait. He rolled a condom on, pushed himself inside of her and she let out a gasp, gripping onto his shoulders. "Fuck, Danny," she whispered, throwing her head back. "Holy fucking fuck."

Daniel grunted. Nothing in the world could come close to this feeling. Slowly he began moving, pulling his hips back every so slightly and pushing back in. He kept his pace even, giving her time to adjust to his length.

But Daniel sped up. She moaned and whined, crying out his name beneath him as he fucked her.

She didn't last very long. Maybe it was all of the anticipation, maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been fucked like this since before Milo was born.

Daniel fucked her through her orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, kissing her slowly, tenderly. "So good f'me."

He pace slowed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he brought himself closer and closer to his orgasm. "Shit," he grunted, his hips stilling against her as he came, spilling into the condom.

"Fuck," she whispered as he pulled out of her.

Daniel got rid of the condom and climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her head and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you still happy to be mine?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

"Are you kidding me?" She said as she touched his tattoo. It hadn't escaped Daniel just how much she loved his tattoos, loved tracing them. "I don't think happy is the right word. I'd go for something like... really happy."

"Really happy then," Daniel said and kissed her again.

They laid like that for just a few minutes, enjoying each others company. "What do we tell the kids?" She asked as she reached for her phone.

"The truth," Daniel answered as she turned the phone on and checked the time.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She jumped out of bed and quickly got herself dressed. "Fuck, I've got to get back to Milo and the sitter."

Daniel did the same. He jumped out of bed and got back into his trousers and shirt. But he left off the tie and didn't button his shirt all of the way. They'd just gotten done boning, but fuck she wanted him again. But there was no time, she needed to get back to Milo.

"Let me come with you," Daniel said, unlocking his phone to call her a cab.

Y/N stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards Daniel, undeniable smile one of face. "You seriously want to come with me?"

"Of course I do, you're my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. She loved the sound of that.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[ilycosy]

❝ FIGHT FOR ME ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader

summary — while being a child of athena, you've never been one for athletics or academics. you never succeeded in capture the flag, or gotten anything above a c+. it seemed that the only thing you were good at was being supportive, which luke never seemed to mind.

warnings : toxic!luke , enabler!reader , reader is bullied and insecure abt it , luke is a bad guy and reader thinks he's hot for it .

aﾉn — back w another work B) hope u guys enjoy !! i personally love when my men r a little crazy + protective over me <3 this is based on this , requests r open :) so feel free to req stuff !!!

being a demigod was hard as it was, constantly fighting monsters left and right never knowing when it'd end. most of the time, it ending in a painful and anticlimactic death, the pressure was constant and only grew.

now, being a child of athena, it really should've came naturally to you. maybe not reading, but still, being wise and strong was what should've came with the deal. at last— it didn't, and that really wasn't something that you could get over at a camp that relies so heavily on glory.

'glory', better known as kleos here, was something that every demigod craved even you. which is why you tried so hard to learn, sword fighting with anybody who would bother, attempting to plan for things with your half-siblings. but it never worked.

at first you were angry, angry at the world, angry at your mother. how could she claim such a screw up? you'd ask, and others would agree with you. taunting and sticking up their noses as if they were better, in a way, they were. not completely— but in the ways that mattered, they were.

then, you became bitter. you had met your shining star during this stage, at the age fourteen you were introduced to a boy your age, luke castellan. he came to the camp with a young girl, talking of stories about life outside the camp and the monsters he killed. holding onto the memory of a forbidden child he fought by, you were envious.

until he took a interest in you, constantly talking to you trying to make you laugh or smile. at one point he fell into a lake while trying to get your attention, it was endearing— and stupid. you never understood why he cared so much, or why he wanted to be friends so bad.

at sixteen, you accepted the offer. not having many friends due to everybody seeing you as useless— just another child that must've gotten accidentally claimed. you allowed him into your life, slowly but surely breaking down your walls until by seventeen there's nothing left to talk about.

the bitterness lingers, though he could never relate— until the quest. that awful quest that you cried to him about going on, wanting him to stay, half in fear of him dying but also the fear of the ridicule you'd face without him there. the lack of his reputation to protect you.

you had gotten harassed while he was gone, the constant remarks about how you were the pretty face of the cabin was back-handed at best to you. but you always sneaked off to his bed in hermes' cabin, crying into his pillow when you were sure nobody else was awake.

but when he returned, everything was different. it was like he finally understood you on a deeper level than before— your frustrations with your mother, not living up to the expectations of her, he understood. he understood and more, he was angry for you, for himself and every other camper.

he talked very little of the quest, the only genuine emotions he allowed himself to feel around you being happiness and anger. brief words of anger for his father and your mother, then hushed whispers of adoration for you in the nape of your neck.

you never fully knew when luke became your boyfriend, but it was never a secret. his head buried in your shoulder during breakfast, the hand on your back when he was hiking with you and other campers, even the soft kisses he gave your wrists publicly.

so he never understood why people had grown so confident— arrogant enough to ridicule you while he stands so close by. their loud laughs mixing in with the barely concealed hisses of their disapproval for you, talking about how you're the shame of athena cabin. how you've never used your brain, or a weapon in your whole life.

nobody knew when luke had snapped, all everybody could say was that it was bloody. the beloved camp counselor defending his loves honor— by pounding in another boys face, leaving him bruised and bleeding on the hard dirt.

all he remembers was being dragged away by chris, the ringing in his ears being too loud to hear anything other than "you got him luke calm down!" and "mr. castellan, meet me after you're done with the medic." before he was hauled off to the apollo children.

he remembers waiting, a long time. being patched up by an apollo girl, her harsh words of how stupid he was and how girls don't like violent men barely processed in his brain. he was on autopilot without you— he barely ate or drank until you were allowed in the medic office.

you had waited for what felt like years before you were allowed in, you couldn't help but bask in the spotlight for a moment after the fight, just thriving from the fear he had caused for you. you rushed to him as soon as you could, running your fingertips gently over his scar and down his jaw.

his jaw unclenched when he realized it was you, leaning into your touch he presses soft kisses from your palms to your wrists. he swears on the gods that he'd kill for you if it meant you touched him as if he was this delicate for all eternity.

"luke," you say, as if your lungs can't take in enough air. "are you okay?"

he almost laughs at how dumb the question is, is he okay? he feels awesome right now, a sense of pride resonating deep within him from the adrenaline and the attention you feed him as you sit on the medic cott.

"im fine, baby." he rasps out, running his hands up the tops of your thighs until he can pull you by your hips. your body flushed against his. "are you alright?" he whispers against your neck, the bandages on his face tickling you.

you barely know how to respond, you're not okay but at the same time you've never felt better. "im hurt," you mumble, being honest with your feelings even though you know his are bottled. "but im glad."

he feels another spike of anger, your perfect self should never have to be touched by the ugliness of others words. but he tilts his head to the side, almost as if to realize and ask why you're glad.

"you defended me," you whisper, quietly as if you're ashamed of how you feel. you bite the inside of your lip in shame before pressing a soft kiss to his head. "you fought for me, and im thankful."

his hands lightly trail from your hips and up your sides, gently leaving adoring touches in his wake before cupping your face. he leans his forehead against yours, looking at your lips before focusing on your eyes.

"id kill the gods for you," he whispers, his eyes darkening as your eyes light up. "just say the word, baby."

[roosterforme]

The Dirty Details | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The details of how Bradley lost his virginity come as a surprise to you. When you learn how and why he became a consent king, your heart breaks for him. You vow to do everything you can to always make him feel as loved and comfortable as he makes you feel, in and out of the bedroom.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of sex while intoxicated, mentions of sexual assault

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When you walked into the Hard Deck with Bradley's arm slung over your shoulder, you looked up at him and said, "This is the first time we've been here together since we got married."

"You're right," he rasped, kissing your forehead. "And now I've got this new hardware on my finger that repels all other women."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you told him with a laugh as you led the way through the huge New Year's Eve crowd. "That one over there is looking at you, Roo. Hold up your left hand."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You're the only one I'm looking at, Baby Girl."

"That's Mrs. Bradshaw to you."

Bradley smirked when you smiled at him. "You're just begging to leave early, aren't you?"

You shrugged casually, but you knew for a fact that you'd be able to get Bradley to leave before midnight if you bugged him enough. If you told him you wanted him to take you to bed, he'd be leading you back to the Bronco right away.

But instead you walked into Jake's open arms and hugged him. "Angel," he drawled as he turned you to face the bar. "Your cute coworker is here."

You searched the bar area, and sure enough your eyes found Cat Coleman's, and she waved to you. "Why don't you go talk to her?" you suggested, but Jake adamantly refused. 

"No, it was just an observation," he said before wandering over to Nat. He was so transparent, it was ridiculous. 

"Okay, Jake," you muttered, and then Bradley was handing you a beer.  

"Hey, how was your trip to Maryland for Christmas?" Nat asked as she gave you a hug.

Before you could even respond, Jake loudly said, "Didn't you hear? They didn't even go anywhere at all. Rooster here has been trying to figure out how things work since he lost his virginity on their wedding night. Missed Christmas all together since he's been trying for weeks to find the clit."

You started laughing, and you could feel and hear Bradley's laughter behind you. 

"Hey, Hangman," he said, chuckling. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, Hangman," Nat replied. "That's not how Rooster lost his virginity. I know the whole scoop on that one." She was wiggling her eyebrows and looking smug.

"You do?" you asked Nat, suddenly shocked at the realization that you had no idea about any of the details of your husband's first time.

You turned to look up at Bradley as he sipped his beer, cheeks pink as he met your gaze. 

"Yep," Nat replied, her tone teasing. "Seventeen years old in the backseat of his car with a college girl. An older woman!"

"Really?" you asked Bradley, and he just nodded at you. "She was in college? How old was she?"

"Twenty," Bradley told you quietly while Nat and Jake hooted loud enough to get Payback and Fanboy in on the conversation, too. You could vaguely hear them all comparing their own virginity dirty details, but all you could see was the strange look on Bradley's face.

"What's wrong, Roo?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Would a quickie in the bathroom make you feel better?" You started to pull him toward the hallway with a grin, but he just shook his head. 

"Nah. Not tonight."

You couldn't remember the last time he had turned you down in any capacity. Had he ever? Certainly not recently since you'd come off birth control, since you'd become his wife. You were honestly a little stunned. 

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, Sweetheart," he replied, kissing your forehead. "Wanna play pool?"

But you could tell something was definitely bothering him, even after you agreed to be his partner against Jake and Javy. Because he was awfully quiet compared to how he normally was, and his smile just wasn't quite reaching his eyes. 

But he still pulled you into his arms whenever you were near him, so you let him play a few rounds of pool and have another beer before you tugged on his hand. "Ready to head home?" you asked, tucking yourself against his side. 

"You don't want to stay until midnight?" he asked, eyebrows raised as you looked up at him. 

"No. I want to take you home, Roo."

It took twenty minutes to say goodbye to everyone which meant that you were just pulling into the driveway at the stroke of midnight. Bradley had been singing along to his Motown playlist, and when he put the Bronco in park, you climbed onto his lap. 

"Happy New Year, Baby Girl," he rasped. Then your lips softly met his while he finished singing Baby I Need Your Loving. 

"Will you tell me what's wrong now, Roo?" you asked. You didn't want to press him if he didn't want to talk about it, but he'd been fine when you first arrived at the bar. 

"It's nothing. It's so stupid," he whispered, taking the key out of the ignition and sighing as he climbed out with you in his arms. Once he set you down, you strolled up to the front door with him right at your heels, and you paused with the key in the lock. 

"Okay. But you listen to me all the time. Even when it's something stupid."

"You never say anything stupid, Baby Girl," he kissed your cheek as you opened the door. He was being lovely, but you wanted him to open up for you. He always felt better whenever he did. 

When you made your way to the bedroom and turned on the lamp on your nightstand, Bradley's beautiful face was bathed in soft light, but his brow was pinched in frustration. You pressed your lips together to keep yourself quiet, and a minute later, you were rewarded not only by your husband in just his underwear, but also by his voice. 

"You know how Nat said she knows how I lost my virginity?" 

He was looking down at the bedding and running his fingers through his hair when you whispered, "Yeah?" You crawled to the middle of the bed, but he remained standing next to his side. 

"Well, she doesn't really know what happened. Nobody does." He laughed a bit awkwardly. "Well I guess one other person does."

You nodded and patted the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he grunted as he collapsed back against the pillows. "It makes me uncomfortable."

And for the first time ever, you felt like maybe he didn't want you to touch him. You were dying to know what was bothering him. No matter what it was, you wanted to try to fix it, try to give him comfort. That's what he always did for you. But you were at a complete loss right now, silently begging your husband to keep talking. 

He swallowed hard, and you watched his Adam's apple move against the scars on his neck. "Yeah, I was seventeen. Yeah, it was in the backseat of my mom's old, white station wagon that I had been driving. Yeah, it was with a girl who was in college. Her name was Morgan."

You licked your lips and kept your eyes on him while he looked at the ceiling. "I told you this was stupid, Sweetheart. I don't know why it still bothers me." When he reached out for your hand, you felt instantly better and worse at the same time. "I was drunk. It was a little while after my mom died, and I was living with her cousin Brenda. You remember Brenda, from when we were in Virginia?"

"Of course," you replied, playing with his fingers. "How could I forget? I met her when we got engaged. She wants us to come visit again this summer."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "Brenda is great." Then he paused for a few beats. "And you know, she tried so hard to make me feel comfortable and welcome there, but I just... didn't. I spent my senior year of high school partying with this group of college kids. We'd all go out in this wooded area near the lake and drink cheap liquor on the weekends. It was right after Mav pulled my papers. A couple months before my eighteenth birthday."

When he reached for you, there was no hesitation as you scrambled into his arms. You settled against his chest, his warm skin and the steady beat of his heart calmed you immediately, and you hoped you were giving him some comfort as well. 

"That girl, Morgan? I thought she was so cool at first. She was studying anthropology. She was smart. She got me drunk and didn't get upset when I talked about my mom. We would make out by the lake. Then one night, I was so drunk, and she told me to take her to my car. I thought we were just going to make out in the backseat."

"Oh, Bradley." You felt sick to your stomach. 

"I didn't tell her no, but I was too drunk to say much of anything. She knew that, but we did it anyway. In the back of my mom's car." 

You squeezed him tight as tears leaked from your eyes. "Roo. She took advantage of you. She should have never. That is not okay."

He sighed, and the sound of it made more tears fill your eyes. "I've never told anyone about it before. I feel a little better now."

"I love you, Roo," you promised, meeting his eyes. And somehow he was the one wiping your tears away when you were supposed to be comforting him. "You sweet man. That wasn't stupid. And you can tell me when something is bothering you. I want you to."

"I know," he agreed. "But sometimes it's hard to think about that night for more than a second. I try not to."

Then you sobbed as realization washed over you, and he pulled you a little closer. "Oh, Bradley! I've convinced you to have sex with me when you were drunk! More than once!"

"No, no, stop," he said firmly, kissing your lips. "It's not the same, Baby Girl."

"But if I ever made you feel uncomfortable-"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We are in a committed relationship. We have been pretty much from the start. I always want you, and I initiate it 90% of the time when I've been drinking. You always have my consent, and I know you'd stop if I ever gave you the impression that I didn't want it. And I know you would never hurt me."

"Never," you agreed, letting your cheek rest on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you whispered, "You know, there's one really positive thing that came from this though."

"Is there?" he asked, a little skeptical as you stroked your fingers along his tattoo. 

"Yeah. You're the consent king. And I think you always were, even before we met."

"Hmm," he grunted. "Yeah, that's really important to me."

"I love that," you told him, kissing up along his neck until you reached his lips. "And I love you. And you're mine. And Morgan can take her anthropology degree and fucking kick rocks while she thinks about how terrible she is."

Bradley laughed. And your face melted into a smile as you realized how tense your body had been. 

"I fucking love you," he promised. And you knew he did.

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

When you woke up the next morning to Bradley's lips on your shoulder as you were draped across him, you whispered, "Happy New Year."

"Mmhmm," he hummed against your skin. You wanted him in the worst way. He was so big and warm, and he smelled so good. He was yours. He was your husband. He was patient and sweet and everything you needed. And now, especially today, you wanted to make sure he knew that you really saw him. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

His lips paused on your shoulder as he rasped, "Yes. Please, touch me."

So you let your hands roam along the muscular planes of his abdomen and chest. You gently dug your fingers into his bicep. You grazed the scars on his cheek with your nose.

"Will you let me kiss you, Roo?"

He responded by kissing you first. His mustache was rough against your skin, but everything else about his embrace was so soft. His lips lingered before chasing yours over and over again.

Your voice was soft, lips brushing his. "I want to have sex with you, if that's what you want."

He kissed his way along your jaw to your ear. "I see what you're doing here, Baby Girl. And I love you for it. Yes, I want to have sex with you, too."

So you took it nice and slow, and you made sure he was comfortable, even though you were certain you could read all of his cues by now. But you'd remember to take that extra step here and there. It wouldn't be hard to do, because he always gave you more than you ever expected. You'd always remind him that what he wanted and needed was important to you, because that was exactly how he made you feel every day.

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

This one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. I hope you can't relate to what Roo went through here, but if you can, I love you. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to their s/o doubting themselves in their relationship

requested by anon: So this is a very specific request and you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable or do not like it/are uninspired by it. But how would they handle it if you're in a relationship with them but start doubting whether you're good enough for them? It's a bit sad but I'm curious. Thank you <3

notes: the super soft fluff and the super sad angst are Both my strong points. i love them both so much.

masterlist

seungcheol, jeonghan, hansol 

he's noticed the way you've been hesitating around him lately, no longer throwing yourself on top of him for hugs and no longer responding as well to him nudging your heads together to ask for kisses. he's worried, and he's incredibly adamant that Communication is Key in relationships (and he's right) so he asks you during a lull in the evening one day why you're being so distant. it takes a while, but he's patient and he just wants to know you're okay, and eventually when you break and tell him everything he gets really sad and starts hugging you as you cry. begins to cry himself, bc he didn't realise you were thinking that way, and tells you over and over that he loves you and he's with you because you make him the happiest ever and there's no need to worry about something like that. he's going to be with you forever and ever, whether you like it or not. 

joshua, junhui, dokyeom

incredibly perceptive when it comes to these things. knew that you were upset and he's been constantly asking you if you're okay, but you just continue to brush it off until he walks into your room one day to find you silently sobbing to yourself in the middle of the room. immediately drops to his knees on the floor beside you, making those gentle shushing noises to try and calm you down, and when you push him away he makes that small wounded noise, worried that he's done something wrong. he's gentle with you, like you're a fragile creature, when you tell him that you've been worried that he's too good for you. tells you very sincerely that he doesn't think anyone will be able to put up with him as well as you have and that honestly, he's not sure if he'd like anyone else to. for him, there's only you. asks if he can touch you, scoops you up into a big and warm hug that lasts until one of you needs to pee (him) 

wonwoo, jihoon, minghao

the conversation was probably brought up through an almost-argument. you're tired and insecure, which makes you snappish, and he's tired too, leading to biting exchanges that gradually get worse until you finally grit out that you're afraid he's going to leave you because there are better people out there. that makes the anger leave his body instantly, eyes widening. he didn't know you felt like that in the slightest, and he slowly tries to go over and touch you, stepping back if you move away. he feels like it's partly his fault for maybe not being as affectionate in the relationship as you'd like, and promises to do better and make you feel more reassured in the relationship if that's what you need. even if you say it's okay, he'll promise it anyway, because he knows how awkwardness can make him distant sometimes, and he never wants you to think he's going to stop loving you someday

hoshi, mingyu, seungkwan, chan

i think he'll start overthinking your distant nature, taking it as a sign that you don't think he's good enough for you, and comes to you all wobbly-voiced to very genuinely ask if you're tired of him, because he knows that he's not the easiest person to handle at times and if there's something about him that's bothering you, he'll try to fix it for you. it takes you by surprise, because you were afraid that he was tired of you, and yet he's come to you and said this. you end up embarrassedly telling him the reason for your distance, and both of you are crying and laughing because it's a little ridiculous and you're both just in love with each other so much that it has managed to lead to complications like this. you end up pinky-promising each other that neither is undeserving of the other, and exchange sappy 'i love you's for about an hour straight

request guidelines

[the-modern-typewriter]

if you like, would you do a snippet about the daughter of a vampire hunter who frees a captive vampire from her father?

The vampire looked only a little older than her. Seventeen, maybe. Eighteen. Myna knew that didn't count for much - you couldn't tell a vampire's age just by looking at them, but still.

She was beautiful too, of course, in the way that all vampires in some way were. Her bloody eyes were striking, ethereal things that tracked Myna's every movement into the room. They paused on the keys clutched tightly in Myna's hand and then flicked to her face. The vampire's head tilted.

Myna stopped in front of her, just out of reach.

"Will you attack me if I release you?" Myna asked.

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

It was a good question. Myna wet her lips, nervously, and the vampire's gaze darted to those next.

"No," the vampire said. "I have no desire to linger here, not even to hurt him."

But the vampire did want to hurt her father. That much was obvious, but also understandable. Maybe Myna was making a mistake. Maybe she was under a thrall that was simply masquerading itself as morality, because though desire was more insidious it was easier to resist. Maybe she would only know when the vampire was gone, and she could think clearly, or maybe she would always wonder.

Myna hesitated, shifting her grip on the keys.

"He hurts you."

"He does not like my kind."

"Your kind are monsters."

"And your father's behaviour is monstrous." The vampire shrugged, light and almost careless. Almost. She raised a delicate eyebrow. "But you know that or you wouldn't be thinking about doing what you're doing."

Myna gulped.

She'd been raised to believe that vampires were pure predator, unnatural and evil, but the more she had actually seen of them the less she could possibly believe that true. The less she saw of...her the less Myna could believe it.

Her father said that was how vampires operated. They mimicked passion, love, the human things to ensure their own safety.

Myna usually felt like she was faking it too, though.

Most of the other girls at school thought hunting was archaic, barbaric. It also felt an entirely different thing to kill a vampire and to keep one one captive for weeks on end in a converted wine cellar.

Most girls always seemed to know what to say, while Myna felt like her script had got lost somewhere and so she kept reading her cues all wrong.

If faking was the standard for being inhuman, for being evil, then what did that make her?

"How old are you?" It was a silly question, in the grand scheme of absolutely everything.

The vampire blinked. "Twenty three."

It felt ancient. It felt a world away. Twenty three meant life away from her father's house and no more school and the freedom to do whatever she wanted. She knew, though, that it wasn't very long at all. She knew what a human lifespan was supposed to be. She knew how old vampires could get.

"How old are you?" The vampire's tone was strangely soft.

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen," the vampire echoed. A wistful sort of smile curled her lips. "Sweet sixteen girl."

"I'm not sweet."

"No." The vampire said it almost musingly. "You're something much more enticing. More interesting."

Enticing. Interesting.

Myna cleared her throat. She felt heat rise, ridiculous and unbidden to her cheeks, and stepped closer. She was glad she didn't fumble the locks, but her heartbeat still picked up the second the metal hit the floor.

She scurried back swiftly, even as she was aware her swiftness was a snail compared to what the vampire was.

The vampire stood, slowly, even to Myna's human eyes, like she was trying not to scare her.

"Thank you." The vampire seemed a little unsure. She wet her lips in turn, and Myna's gaze darted treacherously to them. "It gets better," she said. "I promise."

Myna looked down, because the words weren't what she'd expected and she didn't know what exactly she'd wanted. "You should go."

When she glanced up again, the vampire stood right in front of her, barely a breath away. Myna's breath caught.

"You could come with me," the vampire said. "Your father will be angry with you for freeing me."

Myna's stomach churned, but she squared her shoulders. "He won't hurt me."

"Tell him I thralled you," the vampire said. She reached her hand up, pressing the pad of her thumb over Myna's bottom lip. "He'll believe it."

"Uhuh."

The vampire smiled; wicked and feral and everything that Myna thought she might be too, if she was only brave enough. The vampire pressed the sweetest of kisses to Myna's lips.

"All a vampire is," the vampire whispered, "is everything human with the volume turned up. Your father doesn't like what is reflected back when he thinks of us. Humans can be awful."

"And me?" Myna managed.

"You," the vampire said, "will be feral when you finally get around to unlocking your own cage. I look forward to it, sweet sixteen."

Then, she was gone.

And Myna could taste power on her tongue.

[billwidoll]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠e

_________________________

It was Christmas Eve, and you were happy and excited. Your life was perfect. After adolescence, everything got better for you. You married a successful man, and had two wonderful children.

And his family was having a beautiful and luxurious supper

You didn't have to complain about anything. But one thing haunted you, when you were seventeen, you dated a twenty year old man named Rafe Cameron. Your relationship was totally toxic, but the important thing was that you loved each other. But there was a day when you couldn't handle this relationship, and you ran away from Rafe's house without him noticing.

You knew that if you told him you wanted to break up, he might be able to kidnap you and take you captive. So you ran far away and to this day Rafe has never found you. Good so far...

"baby, I'm going to get the box of wine from the car"

You tell your husband, who was talking to some friends

"baby, there's no need, why don't you send some of the security guards to do it?"

Your husband says, having his full attention on you. You roll your eyes and give a small smile.

"I'll do it myself, okay? I'll be fine, what could happen?"

And so, you did, you left the house where you lived, and went to the car that wasn't too far from the house. You got to the car and opened the trunk, but the box of wine wasn't there. So you assumed you were in the passenger seat

When you got into the car, you didn't see any box of wines there, so you were about to leave, until you saw in the car's rear view mirror, a look behind the car. And you knew very well who that look was from

"Hello my princess"

Rafe spoke with a deep and hoarse voice, and with an empty look. You immediately tried to get out of the car, but Rafe was faster, putting a cloth over your mouth and pinning you against the passenger seat.

And little by little, you lost the consequence, with Rafe's gaze glued to your eyes.

_____________________

You woke up dizzy, with weak eyes, weak legs and your heart racing for hours. Your mind was still trying to figure out where you were, and how that happened so quickly.

When your eyes opened, you came across a small and cramped place, and there were several fisherman's things, you also felt as if the ground was shaking, and that place only had one Very small window.

"HELP!" You screamed, your head throbbing in pain "please! Someone help me!"

You scream even louder, and you realize there's a chain around your wrists, you weren't going to get it that easy.

But suddenly, you see someone opening the door, where you were. And he, he looks like a devil

"Hello princess....did you miss me?" Rafe speaks with a satisfying smile Your eyes fill with tears

Rafe looked different, he had cut his hair and seemed stronger and more confident.

"why? !" You scream to yourself, wondering how Rafe found you after years.

Rafe approaches you, and he touches your face gently. He didn't want to scare you but it was difficult

"because I love you, I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I will love you tomorrow"

Rafe says with a sadistic smile and you spit in his face

"I hate you!! You separated me from my children! From my husband!!!" You scream like a lion

Rafe gets angry when he remembers the ridiculous family you created after abandoning him. Rafe grabs his jaw and holds it.

"I loved you, long before these people came into your life! And I hope you love me, but they do"

Rafe says, clenching his jaw tightly.

"I don't love you, I stopped loving you years ago" you say in a whisper, dying of hate

Rafe saw that he had to scare you, for you to see what he was capable of doing.

"Do you want to play with me? You'll play with me better."

Rafe says, getting up furiously, leaving the small room where you were.

At that moment it made you distressed, and Rafe was crazy and you knew it.

It was exactly one minute that Rafe returned to where you were. And he comes back with his ring and an iron.

"what will you do?"

You speak with desperate eyes, and Rafe unlocks the chains, which were back on your wrist.

Rafe grabbed your arm and abruptly pulled you towards the exit of the little room. And you realized it was a ship. Rafe throws you around Fireplace

"Rafe....please! Don't hurt me! For my children!" You scream expecting the worst

Rafe takes his ring and puts it on the iron, And then he puts the iron in the fireplace and they stay there for 30 seconds.

When he takes it off he grabs your arm roughly and tries to put the hot ring on your arm.

"Rafe!!! Please stop!!!" you say struggling, but it didn't take long for Rafe to put it on your arm

And the pain was so strong, that there were no tears that could fall because of that pain.

"Do you remember the ring my father gave me, when we were still dating? It had the initial, the letters R and C"

Rafe speaks making you look at his arm, which had the initials R and C. Which was Rafe Cameron

Rafe carries you on his lap, knowing you were in a lot of pain, so he takes you to his room on the ship, which was probably his.

Rafe places you on his soft bed and examines you closely.

"Why Rafe? Why are you doing all this to me?" You speak with red eyes and your head down, you were already suffering too much.

"When you abandoned me...I fell into drugs, and became an alcoholic, I had nothing left to live for"

Rafe speaks and you listen attentively

"but later, I discovered that my father had passed away, and... I was the heir, who would own everything"

He continues to tell the story.

"and I decided to give up drugs and drinking and become a real loan, so I decided to look for you"

He says, running his hands over your face, giving you an almost friendly smile.

"but...I already have a family Rafe...couldn't you just move on?" You say crying once again.

"no, my love, you are the woman of my life! I fucking love you" Rafe says, changing a little but he takes a deep breath and continues

"I didn't bring you here just to have you for myself again, but to make you suffer all the evil I suffered because of you!"

Rafe says, pressing the place where you were hurt by him, And it makes you scream in pain.

"Welcome, The Revenge"

_____________________

[cowgurrrl]

cardigan

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Author’s note: *gasp* a stand alone drabble

Summary: “You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it.” - Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls” aka you and Joel talk about scars [1.6k]

Warnings: talks of Joel’s attempt, grief, talks of self-hatred, feeeellliiinnnggggsss, learning to live despite it all

"Tell me bout this one." He asks as he traces over the jagged scar on your bicep. It always started with one, and then, before you knew it, you were mapping out each other's bodies like cartographers with sacred valleys and mountains never seen by another. You laugh and move your hair out of your face to see Joel better. He looks gorgeous in the calming orangish light of your room, his eyes bright and his muscles relaxed.

"I got into a fight with a tree branch and lost," you say, and he laughs, burying his head into your neck to hide the sound. You smile and shove at his shoulder. "I don't know why you're laughing at me. It was very scary."

"'M sure it was." 

"Alright, asshole," you say as you grab his hand and trace the scar littering the space between where his thumb and pointer finger connect. It's long and silver and barely noticeable, but it looks like it would've hurt when it happened. "How'd you get this one?"

"Workin' my first job."

"What was your first job?"

"Mechanic."

"Your first job ever was being a mechanic?" You ask, and he nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "How old were you?"

"Sixteen. Maybe seventeen." He says. You try to imagine a much younger Joel with softer features and darker hair. That little creature of habit probably wore the same things he wears now, but with more Texas paraphernalia. Cowboy boots and a hat. Maybe even one of those absurdly large belt buckles. Just the thought of a skinny, sixteen-year-old Joel wearing a huge belt buckle makes you laugh. 

"I bet you had all the cute girls coming in to get their car fixed, huh?"

"Somethin' like that." He smirks, and you roll your eyes.

"So, how'd you get the scar?"

"I cut it tryna fix an engine in an old car. It barely ran as is, and my boss wanted me to just gut the whole thing, but my dumbass wanted to see if I could fix it, and I cut my hand open on something. I still don't know what. Got blood all over the shop and had to get one of the guys to drive me to the hospital," he raises his right hand and traces the scar. "Ten stitches all through here, but other than that, everything was fine. Scared the shit outta my mama, though."

"D'you ever figure out what was wrong with the engine?"

"Nope. Boss replaced it before I could come back." 

"Bummer." You say, and Joel hums, reaching up to feel for the thin scar on your neck. His fingertips are warm and gentle as he traces the bumpy skin like braille. Like he could know every piece of you through touch alone.

"Another fight with a tree branch?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"A fight with a pissed-off client. Held a knife to my neck because I didn't give him his usual supply." 

"And is he still with us?"

"You're cute," you say as you brush some hair from his face. You try to smooth it down so it doesn't look as crazy, but your fingers catch on the scar on the right side of his head. You pause and let yourself memorize the feeling of the raised skin. It's long and rough as it peeks out of his hairline. He must've needed a lot of stitches if it's still so prominent all these years later. His breaths get shallow, and his eyes search your face. "Can I ask about this one?"

He takes a deep breath and nods. Wordlessly, he grabs your hand from the side of his head and kisses your fingertips. He traces circles into the back of your hand and stares at the ceiling. You watch his face change ever so subtly as he thinks, a quick pursing of his lips or a muscle in his jaw jumping when he glosses over the memories. You're convinced no one else in the world can read him like you can. You're a little smug about it, but you'd never tell him that. God forbid he try to school his microexpressions too.

"It happened the day after Sarah died." He starts, and your heart sinks. He swallows thickly and shakes his head. "I didn't care anymore. She was gone, and there was nothin' I could do to bring her back, but I thought... I don't know. I thought I could make the pain stop. So, I tried," he mimes pointing a gun at his head. "But I flinched. Still don't understand why. Tommy hauled me off to a FEDRA medical tent, and they patched me up. Scared him half to death findin' me like that." Your eyes flutter shut at the image of a frantic Tommy trying to get Joel medical help, both choking on their grief as they stumbled through. Joel always told you how much he worried about Tommy and made sacrifices for him. You wonder how many nights Tommy stayed up and watched Joel sleep so he wouldn't reach for his firearm again. You wonder how much pain they were in and never talked about it. When your eyes open again, Joel stares at the scar on your neck to avoid your gaze. You reach out to trace the shell of his right ear.

"That's why you're deaf in that ear." It was meant to be a question, but it comes out as a breathless realization, and he nods.

"It's why I'm deaf in that ear." He mumbles. You look at the scar with a new understanding and sadness. Your fingertips graze the rigid skin again, and his eyes fill with tears. He's waiting for you to flinch and pull away. He's waiting for you to ask him to never talk about this again. He's waiting for you to get angry at the past like he is. In slow, precise movements, you sit up until you're half on top of him, your eyes heavy with emotion. Then, so slowly he thought he dreamt it, you lean down and kiss the thing he hates the most about himself. 

You linger for a few seconds like you're trying to repair the skin with your touch alone before moving to kiss the ear he's deemed useless. You kiss his forehead, nose, cheeks, and jaw, catching his tears as they fall. He holds you close and tries to bury his face in your neck to hide from the love he doesn't think he deserves. You put your hands on his cheeks to keep him in place and stare down at him. 

"I'm so fucking happy you flinched." You whisper, struggling to keep your voice steady at the thought of him being gone before you could meet him. Then, you obliterate his world. "I'm so happy you're alive." You say.

In all his years on this earth, nobody has ever told Joel Miller they were happy he was alive. He doesn't know how to react. He just catches your lips and tries to press the words he can't find the strength to voice into you. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. It's okay if you can't love me like this, but Jesus fucking Christ, I hope you can try. I won't be weak anymore. You make me want to live. Nobody's been able to do that in a long time. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You let him flip your positions and hover over you, tears still falling down his cheeks as he kisses you. 

Rays of early morning sunshine filter through the dusty window and cast shadows across the room. You both have to get up for work soon. You know what'll happen if you don't go, but you also want to get lost in the cartography of Joel. It's okay, you think. We have the rest of our lives. You rest your forehead against his, and he takes a shaky breath, thoughts crackling loudly in the quiet room. You grab his chin and turn his head so you can kiss the scar one more time before forcing him to look at you. 

With determination and longing in your eyes, you say, "Stay with me." And you both know you're not just talking about the crisp October morning. Like so much of your lives, intention slips between the cracks for the other to pick up and examine like a long lost earring you find and wonder, "Where have you been this whole time?" He kisses you again, feeling his eyes prick with water before nodding.

"Okay," he says. "I'll stay with you if you stay with me." 

"I'm not going anywhere, Miller." 

"Good." He smiles. 

The grief will never go away. It will never be fair that Sarah died that night. You can never go back to the people you were before that day. But you can do this. You can find ways to live not despite the pain but because of it. Because he loved Sarah. Because you were kind and empathetic before Cordecyps wiped that from memory. Because grief is a conglomeration of memories so jumbled together you can't tell them apart anymore, but you can still feel the love left behind. So, you'll continue to kiss the tears away and soothe the nightmares and stitch the wounds that will heal over into nasty scars with nastier stories. You'll endure as long as you can have more mornings like this. 

And little by little, step by step, you'll learn how to do more than survive with him. You'll learn to stop waiting for the darkness to find you. You'll learn to be kind again, and he'll learn to forgive himself. Together, you'll make something whole and beautiful and worthy from your pile of broken pieces. It can't change the past, but goddammit, if it doesn't make the future look pretty good. 

[wakasaz]

Just Friends?

♡~Wakasa Imaushi x Fem!Reader

♡~Not proofread

♡~Based on this

♡~wc 3.5k

♡~ao3

Tw~ 18+ MDNI!, unprotected sex, cheating, oral(female and male), rough sex, semi-public sex/public sex, I think that's everything, but I probably forgot something.

Over the years Wakasa has always been there for you. Always at your side whenever you needed him. So today was no different. Wakasa rushed over to your apartment the minute he got off the phone with you. Unlocking the door and walking in he went right for your bedroom where he could hear your quiet sobs. The moment he opened the door to see you laying on your bed his heart sank. Did your boyfriend break up with you? This wouldn't be the first breakup he helped you through. Honestly the moment he heard you crying when you called he didn't even ask what happened just told you he would be there in five minutes and hung up.

He walks into the room, laying on the bed beside you rubbing his hand up and down your back trying to calm you. "Waka" you choke out, look up from your pillow to see your best friend laying in your bed looking worried. "Who ass am I kicking?" He asks in his lazy voice as he lays on his back and opens his arms waiting for you to lay on his chest. "I think somethings wrong with me," you whisper to him. "the hell are you talking about?" Did that asshole say something was wrong with you? Is that where this is coming from? If it is, Wakasa is prepared to do a lot more than just kick his ass. He would kill for you. He would do anything for you, all you have to do is ask.

"Why doesn't it feel good?" Wakasa raises a brow at you confused. "Why doesn't what not feel good?" He asks. "You know" you say as you nod your head towards him. "Princess, if I knew I wouldn't be asking" you groan and slam your head onto his chest. "Sex Wakasa, why doesn't sex feel good." Wakasa starts chuckling. Now he has to sit here and hear about the man he hates fucking you. But he will. He will listen to all of it because he wants to make you happy. He will endure listening about a man he hates doing the one thing he wants to do but will never have the chance. "It's not funny!" You say slapping his arm as he laughs more while shaking his head slightly. "What? Trouble in paradise? That boyfriend kd yours not fuckin you right or something?" He asks.

You roll your eyes. "I'm serious, Waka. I think there is something wrong with me." He stops laughing and turns his head to get a better look at you. You're still laying on his chest, fingers running across his stomach drawing random shapes. "What are you talking about?" His tone is serious. You aren't used to him sounding this serious. It's usually all jokes and sarcasm with him. "Have have you never–" "No, I haven't" you say as you bury your face deeper into him feeling yourself getting embarrassed. Wakasa gulps. You haven't? No, that can't be right. You've had plenty of boyfriends in the past. Surely someone has gotten you off before, right?

"Oh God, you think I'm a freak don't you?" You whine. "No" He says sternly. "He's just not fucking you right" he mumbles. "He's not?" Wakasas eyes widened. You weren't meant to hear the last part. He lets out a sigh. "No, princess. Sounds to me like he doesn't know how to touch you" you sit up and stare down at Wakasa. Big doe eyes full of innocent stare at him. Because that's what you are to him, innocent. His sweet little best friend. The sweet girl who came to him crying at sixteen over your first heartbreak. The same girl who at seventeen came to him with her second over a cheating boyfriend. That same boyfriend learned quickly not to make you cry and you learned how to bail someone out of jail that night.

Wakasa sits up. You are nose to nose. His breath is hitting your face. If either one of you moved any closer your lips would be pressed together. The truth is you've always found Wakasa attractive. He was the typical bad boy at school that all the girls wanted but never showed them an ounce of attention. His attention was always on you. Wakasa has changed over the years. He grew his hair out and added purple. You swear he's never looked as good as he does right now.

Wakasa is playing with your fingers looking down. "I could show you," he whispers. "Show me what?" He looks up leaning in close. His lips brush against yours. "I could show you how you deserve to be fucked, princess" you slam you lips into him. He tastes like cigarettes and candy. He groans as he grabs the back of your head pushing you deeper into the kiss. He runs his tongue along your lip asking for entrance. You deny him. He chuckles as he smirks against your lips. You always did like to tease him. He yanks your hair causing you to gasp, he slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss, locking your arms around his neck. Wakasa pushes you onto your back as he continues to kiss you. He moves onto your neck, licking, biting, and sucking everywhere he can. Your pants and moans fill the room. "Tell me, princess, has any man ever made you cum?" He asks as he starts to run his hand up under your shirt, goosebumps following his touch. You shake your head as he gives you a hum in response. "How about you then? Even made this pussy cum?"

"N-no" you tell him embarrassed that your friend is asking these questions. "No? Have you ever touched this pretty pussy?" He asks as he runs his hands over your clothed center. You nod "then why haven't you made yourself cum? "I–I get nervous and stop before I can" He hums again as he switches to the other side of your neck. "What do you think about when you touch yourself? Your boyfriend?" "No" you say quickly as you grip into his shoulders as he starts sucking on your neck. He chuckles "you think about me then, cause I think about you when I'm fucking my fist" "y–yes" Wakasa gasps. He wasn't expecting you to think about him. Actually he's surprised you're even letting him touch you this way. "I always think about you," you tell him. He lifts up from your neck kissing you slowly. It's filled with all the things he wishes he could get himself to say. All the feelings he has kept bottled up afraid of losing you.

"Can I touch you?" He asks as he rests his forehead against yours. You nod. Slowly he slides down your body as he removes your clothes. His hands gripping your tits and pinching and twisting your nipples. His hot mouth sucking and licking on them. He kisses his was down your body as he moves your pants. He spreads your legs and looks at your clothed cunt. He can see how wet you are. He runs his finger up your clothed slit before leaning down and licking, groaning as he gets a slight taste of you through the fabric covering you. You gasp and whine his name. He slowly removes the last piece of clothing tossing them on the floor. "Look at that pretty pussy" He says As he kisses your thigh. "Prettiest fucking pussy I've ever seen" He puts your legs over his shoulders as he kisses your slip before he starts lapping at your cunt. He moans against you. Finally able to taste you. You're the best damn thing he's ever had in his mouth. He thinks you're his new favorite flavor. He takes his thumb and spreads you open circling his tongue on your bundle of nerves. Your legs are shaking on his shoulders as you grip his hair. Your panting and whining as you gasp out his name.

He licks and sucks on your clit before dropping his tongue to your entrance. He fucks you with his tongue as his thumb circles your clit. At this point you're moaning and screaming his name. Your grip on his hair is so tight it hurts but he doesn't care. He's in heaven. In seconds he has you cumming on his tongue. He continues to lick until he can tell you rode out your high. He misses your cunt again. "Got one more for me?" He asks as he starts licking again. He runs his teeth over you, nipping every once in a while. As he's lapping at your cunt he adds a finger earning a moan from you. He curls it trying to find that spongy spot he knows will have your toes curling. Your moans are turning into screams of his name. He adds a second finger and before long you're cumming all over him again.

Wakasa sits up as he wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand kissing up your body to your lips. This kiss is rough, filled with nothing but lust for one another. Finally he removed his clothes. You sit up offering to suck him off. He shakes his he'd "tonight's all about you sweet girl" He says As he pushes you back down on the bed hovering over you. He kisses you again as he strokes himself a few times. "Ready?" He asks as he runs his tip up and down your slit. You nod, both of you moaning as he finally enters you. He starts off slow. He's holding both of your hands, his forehead resting against yours watching you as he fucks you. Wakasa knows he's never had a pussy this good. He's dreamed of this moment for years. "Fast Waka" you whine. He removes his hands from yours grabbing your hips as he starts at a rough pace. He shoves his face into your neck. He's kissing and sucking anywhere he can reach. He's groaning and cussing into your neck. Your moaning his name as you leave scratches up his back. He hisses but enjoys the sensation of your nails on his skin. He can feel your walls clenching him. He starts rubbing on your clit and he pounds into you harder. "Come on, princess, cum for me" He says As you arch your back, heels digging into his back as you pull him even closer to your body, screaming his name. You're clenching him so hard he can hardly move. He swears you are sucking him on. He grunts "you were made for me." You can feel his cock twitching inside of you. "Such a perfect pussy for me"

Quickly wakasa pulls out spilling all over your stomach. He swears he's never cum so hard. Spilling more than he's ever done before. You're covered as some spills off of you into the sheets. You're both panting. Bodies covered in sweat. Wakasa is kissing all over your face, chest and neck as he holds you. Scared you're going to say you regret it. You smile up at him. He tucks some of your hair behind your ears. You both look down looking at the mess he left. "Sorry, let me get a tow–" He doesn't finish his sentence as his mouth hangs open. You take your finger running through the mess left on you and sucking it off your fingers as you close your eyes and moan. Wakasa feels his cock twitch. Hardening at the sight. "Fuck" He groans as he slams his lips onto yours again.

The second time is rough. He has you face down ass up. He's slapped your ass so many times you know you'll be bruised. His grip on your hips is so tight you know you'll find his hand prints still there days later. "Look at you taking my cock so well" He says As he lands another slap on your ass. "You were made to be my little cock sleeve." He grabs you by your hair, yanking you up, your back back is against his chest. One hand is around your neck tightening every few thrust while the other runs down your body to play with your pussy. Your head is tilted back onto his shoulder. His thrusts are getting harder and harder. "Such a good little slut for me. You get off on fucking your bestfriend while your boyfriend is at home sleeping?" Moaning he tightens his grip on your neck cutting off air for a second before relaxing his grip. "What was that?" "Y-yes!" You yell. He chuckles against your neck as he plants kisses on you. You've lost track of how many times he has made you cum tonight. You know it's more than seven because that's the last number you remember counting to. "He fuck you like this?" "No, God no!" You scream before he tightens his hand again. Eyes crossing at the lack of air. Sucking I'm a deep breath when he releases again. "Maybe we should call him. Huh? What do you think about that princess? Let him hear how you like to be fucked. How you like bouncing on your best friend's cock. How you scream my name." He tightens his fist again before you can answer. He lets go of you and causes you to fall face first on the mattress. He falls on top of you. Rolling his hips into you moaning your name before spilling inside of you. He continued to fuck you the rest of the night until you fell asleep from exhaustion. He cleaned you up and stayed the night holding you in his sleep. He left before you got up in the morning but left a note telling you to call him as soon as you're up.

Ever since that night sucking Wakasa has become a nightly thing. The minute your boyfriend leaves your apartment you call wakasa and he shows up within five minutes, and has you naked in three. Some nights are rough. Nothing but the dirtiest fucking but other are sweet and loving. This continues for months. Wakasa has called off all the girls he was fucking before. They don't appeal to him anymore. They aren't you. Their pussies aren't yours. He swears you ruined him. No pussy will ever be as good as yours.

Wakasa hates Friday nights. It's your movie night. He used to love them, before your boyfriend. Before it was just you two. Now every Friday he has to show up. Now he has to watch the asshole have his hands all over you, and kiss you. Wakasa just rolls his eyes. While your boyfriend might get to hold you during the day and in front of everyone, wakasa is holding you at night. He's the one making you scream every night, begging him to fuck you one more time. He's the one who you beg to fuck your throat and cum down it so you can taste him not your friend. It'll never be your boyfriend. Wakasa will make sure it'll always be him.

You're sitting in the middle on the couch and a blanket lays over your legs. Your boyfriend's arm is around your shoulder as he watches the movie. Wakasa shoves his hand under the blanket and lays it on your thigh. You turn your head to look at him but he is staring at the tv. Slowly he inches his hand higher and higher until he is touching your clothed cunt. You jump light. Your boyfriend looks at you asking if you're alright. "Yeah, everything okay?" Wakasa asks with a voice laced with sarcasm as he smirks at you. You mumble out a fine. Everyone goes back to watching the movie as wakasa starts rubbing you. You slam your legs together as he turns his head to you, raising a brow. Slowly he slides his hand in your pants and starts to play with your pussy. You gasp, moaning quietly. Your boyfriend and wakasa are talking now as he enters a finger into you curling it hitting the spot that makes you see stars as his thumb rubs your clit. You let out a loud moan as your boyfriend and wakasa ask if you're okay. They continue talking when you assure them everything is fine. Wakasa adds another finger thrusting and rubbing faster.

Your boyfriend excuses himself to the bathroom before wakasa is pushing you back ok the couch hovering over you finger fucking you as he roughly kisses you. "Need you so bad" He mumbles against your lips. This continues until you hear the bathroom unlock. Wakasa jumps off of you, pulling you to sit up as well. Your boyfriend comes back throwing his arm around you again while wakasa continues to finger you under the blanket.

Wakasa has made you cum two times just by his fingers. Your boyfriend is asleep on the armrest of the couch. Wakasa picks you up sitting you on his lap as he pulls down your pants and panties and his own. "Waka he's right there" you whisper to him. "It's fine. He'll never know" he says As he shoves you down on his cock. He helps bounce you on him. Your head is thrown back on his shoulders and he is biting on yours to try and quit himself. He has one hand covering your mouth to quiet your moans and whines. As you bounce on him he is fucking up into you meeting your hips half way. You're cumming for the nth time tonight when your boyfriend starts to move on the couch. Wakasa stops moving for a second as he watches him. When he doesn't wake up and he starts bouncing you again. It doesn't take long for him to throw his head back spilling inside of you. He lifts you up and helps you readjust your pants before sitting you back down and watching the movie as if nothing happened. The next morning wakasa says bye to your friend as if he didn't fuck you right next to him the night before.

Once your boyfriend is gone you notice Wakasa is more annoyed than usual. He's brushing off your questions or giving you short answers. Finally you corner him in your kitchen. Trapping him against the counter. "What the fuck is your problem?!" You yell at him. "You've ignored me all day" He laughs, shaking his head. "My problem? You want to know what the fuck my problem is? Having to watch you be all touchy with that asshole who doesn't deserve you!" He yells "he's my boyfriend wakasa!" He shakes his head face growing angrier "he can't even get you to cum when he fucks you! You've had to come to me just to get off for the past seven months!" He yells "do you want to stop fucking me is that it?!" You yell back. "No!" "Then why do you care if I'm touchy with him?" "Because I'm fucking in love with you okay!"

Both of you widen your eyes. Wakasa was content keeping that a secret as long as you kept fucking him but seeing your boyfriend all over you made him pissed, jealous. He wants to hold you in front of everyone, not just at night. He opens his mouth to saying something but you slam your lips onto his. Running your fingers through his hair before wrapping your arms around him. Wakasa switches your positions against the counter before lifting you to sit you on top of it. Spreading your legs to settle between them he rips your pants off before falling to his knees and eating you like a starved man. He is lapping, sucking, and biting on your cunt. It's messy, his spit running down his chin. He pulls against him as hard as he can. You're cumming on his tongue in seconds. Quickly wakasa stands wrapping your legs around his waist as he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and slowly undresses both of you. He lays on top of you, fingers interlocked, kissing you slowly. He enters you both of you moaning. His pace is slow but deep. Hitting all the places that make your toes curl. It's intimate. More intimate than anything either of you have done before. He wraps his arms around you pulling you chest to chest just so he can be as close to you as possible. He feels you pussy clenching as his cock twitches. "Love you so much" he whispers to you. "Loved you since we were teenagers" you moan his name arching your back you cum all over his sock. He rests his forehead against you as he fills you up. You both lay there holding each other as you catch your breath. He's laying on your chest with his arms around your waist holding you against him. Your legs are wrapped around him as you play with his hair. Both of you are smiling.

"I love you too"

[nicoleheichou]

i miss you, don't call me - chapter seventeen: welcome to the family

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synopsis: when your acting careers start to pick up you and your boyfriend zoro both decide that it's better to go your separate ways. you didn't want to, but you knew he was right. fast forward to a couple years later, when you're finally starting to heal, your friends score a deal to shoot a movie together with your ex and you're starting to think maybe you haven't really moved on.

do y'all see where this is going? 👀 look at these idiots lol.

lmao luffy was ready to have a sister in law

as usual, let me know what you thought! send an ask or comment! if you want a reply from me, an ask is always sm better lol. because i have to respond to comments on my other account and i get lazy to lol

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[etraytin]

Old War Stories

It's interesting to talk with my WWII vet client about the war. He's 101 now but his memories of that part of his life are still clear, just tempered by the weight of years that have gone by since then. All of his old friends and comrades are dead by now, though he pays close attention when a veteran gets on the news for turning 100 or an honor flight is mentioned. Almost everyone he knew from his youth and the prime of his life are gone now, but he likes to tell stories about them. He likes telling stories about the war, mostly funny stories about how bad the sanitary conditions were or the food or being asked to build their own semi-permanent shelter and nobody knowing how. He has a great story about the time he almost got court-martialed for all but peeing on a general who happened to be walking by; it's one of his favorites.

Sometimes, though, he gets into a pensive mood and the tone of the stories changes. We were out in his yard the other evening because he wanted to trim the hedges and I was trying to keep him from breaking a hip while trimming the hedges, when something reminded him of his time in Italy. It started out with funny stories about the young guys getting lined up for medical exams and STD checks, but then wandered down other paths. He told me how they would go out into the town and the little boys who barely knew English and called all the soldiers Joe would try to tell them about their sisters who were sixteen or seventeen or eighteen and who "liked soldiers." He explained that the people in the town had nothing, they didn't have enough to eat and they would steal or do whatever they had to do. He told me that one time he made his way into the commissary area and somehow secured a big can of mixed fruit to his abdomen with a belt and managed to sneak it out and give it to some of the kids. That part of the story was funny, but he wondered aloud what happened to any of those people later on, how many of them managed to survive.

My client is proud of helping to win the war, proud of his service, proud of the friends he lost and the sacrifices they made. But he is haunted by it too, in ways that show sometimes in the stories. He says he talked with the pilot of the Enola Gay once, who came from his bombardment group and who he knew a little bit. He told me he asked the pilot if he'd do it again, and the pilot told him that he was an officer in the Army AIr Corps, under oath and under orders, and in the same circumstances he would do it again. And then my client told me another story of the first bombing mission he went on, when the bombing was a fairly new thing, and how the people in the town below heard the engines and saw the contrails and came out of their houses to look at the planes. If they'd run a few hundred yards perpendicular to the plane trajectory, my client told me, they'd have been safe. But they didn't. They didn't know any better. He decided that was enough war stories and yard work for one evening and we went inside.