#totally new thing around the corner for me and im :']

[aviatrix-ash]

And awaaayyyyy he goes 💕 I took him with on another plane ride. it's what he deserves :3

[sapphire-writes]

Pretty Little Thing

summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, hand over mouth, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge

word count: 7.2k

note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!

link to other stories from me!

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—

Be there soon.

Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful she’d be making an appearance at all.

You hadn’t even wanted to come. It’d been her idea and now she was blowing you off.

“We’re just exchanging the last of our things,” she’d promised on the phone several hours earlier, “You go on without me and I’ll meet you there.”

Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.

Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since you’d known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasn’t going to go as you’d hoped. 

You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come.

An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits. 

They’d long graduated from King’s Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom you’d been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didn’t see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.

That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes. 

You’re not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. She’s part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in. 

“Darling!” she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“You wore it!” she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan you’d chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though you’d begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.

Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelle’s Polly Pocket.

“She pulls you out of her pocket and plays dress up. It’s fucking weird,” she’d said. 

Cerelle’s lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.

“Stop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,” she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Have some fun! It’s winter break!”

Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown. 

“You haven’t had enough to drink,” she insists, reaching for another glass, “You’re much too antsy.”

“Alysanne was supposed to be here,” you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat. 

“Fashionably late as always, I suppose,” Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, “There are lots of fascinating characters here who’ll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?”

“Hilarious,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“I never joke about a good shag,” Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, “From the looks of it you could use it.” She turns back to you, matching your pout. “Don’t frown, you look too lovely.” She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

“Much better,” she praises as you hold the smile she’s decorated your face with, “Come on let's find you someone…don’t look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, that’s all. A bit of harmless fun.” 

You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelle’s hand away.

“There’s no one here I want to flirt with,” you insist, following her gaze around the room, “Let alone shag.”

“You’re too picky,” she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, “What about Greyjoy?”

A shiver rolls through you, “No thank you.”

“Heard he’s good in the sack.”

You’d heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.

“You need someone,” Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, “You haven’t been with anyone since—what was it again?”

His face flashes through your mind before you can help it. 

“Unimportant,” you quip, “Cerelle, I just want to—” Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.

“You invited them?” you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.

“Not me. Jason must have,” she answers, “It’s not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.”

Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. You’re more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. He’s dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.

He never takes it off.

Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegon’s eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.

Aegon loves a good party.

Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment. 

Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious. 

“Anyway,” Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, “Back to you drinking. I’ll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.” 

—

You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape. 

“I’m going to get some air,” you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, “I’m not leaving, I swear!”

“You better not!” she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, “I’ll come to fetch you if you’re gone too long—you know I will.”

She’s telling the truth. 

“Five minutes,” you insist, forcing a smile.

Cerelle’s nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.

Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. It’s colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you. 

You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegor’s Holdfast. 

If you stay any longer, you’ll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. It’s always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids. 

The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head. 

Only it isn’t her.

Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.

He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“You were in my class,” he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, “History of The First Men, right?” 

You force your lips together. “Mhmm,” you answer, surprised he recognized you.

Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites. 

One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.

Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didn’t care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there. 

However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus. 

“You alright?” he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now,” you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh. 

Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Why’s that?”

“You’re sort of a banned topic at book club,” you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. “Because?”

“Maris runs it,” you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemond’s affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.

You’re not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of things—girl code. 

“Floris and I were never exclusive,” Aemond comments.

“Yikes.”

So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, you’re mostly sure he’s telling the truth. The story you’d heard was that he ghosted her. 

“She shouldn’t have assumed,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips. 

“Right, of course not, how dare she,” is your sarcastic reply. 

Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette. 

“You seem rather upset,” he accuses, “Funny, Floris never mentioned you.”

You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. “We’re not friends. It’s the principle of it all. I don’t like assholes.”

His perfect lips curl slightly. “I’m an asshole?”

“Mhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesn’t pretend he’s some suave guy doing nothing wrong.”

You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones. 

“It’s not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,” he counters.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. It’s warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers. 

There’s a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. You’re grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach. 

“So,” you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, “How do you know Cerelle?”

Aemond looks at you quizzically.

“How do I know Cerelle?”

You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“Family friend,” he answers, “Old money likes to stick together.”

You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you. 

“Surely you’ve heard of the Westerosi Seven?” he asks.

You haven’t.

“The what?” 

“The seven families,” Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, “Generational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.” He takes another drag.

“And you’re one of them?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

“My family, yes,” he answers, “And Cerelle’s. The Baratheon girls. Stark. They’re all quite close.”

“Interesting,” you tell him, glancing down the street again, “You sound like the mafia.”

Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut. 

The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out. 

“Darling! Come back inside you’ll catch your death,” she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you don’t miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, “Targaryen.”

“CeCe,” he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesn’t comment on Aemond’s choice. 

“Hope you’re being nice to my girl,” she says, the words clipped.

“Of course,” Aemond comments and you can’t help but feel like you aren’t there. 

Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more. 

“Come on, pet! In the kitchen.”

Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel. 

“Best run along,” he muses, not turning to face you, “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Annoyance prickles under your skin.

“She’s my friend—”

“You have got a very generous friend,” Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. “Myrish, isn’t it?”

You cross your hands over your chest. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, “I’d just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.” 

You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you don’t hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs. 

The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.

It’s something happening on the marble island, but you don’t see what—that is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse. 

She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelle’s lips, earning several cheers. 

As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter. 

“Good, you didn’t leave!” she says giggling, “It’s your turn.”

“My turn?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. 

“Mhmm,” she says, dragging you forward, “Up now!” 

“Cerelle, I don’t—”

“Hush! Qyle Martell is doing it,” she says biting her lip suggestively, “Let the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?”

Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyle’s warm brown eyes. 

“Your sweater,” he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila. 

You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didn’t leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.

Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.

“Oh,” you tell him, moving to unbutton it. 

Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. You’re the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms. 

Quite the sacrificial lamb you are. 

“Here, can I help?” Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes. 

“No—no I’ve got it—oh!”

You’d moved wrong, done something wrong—or perhaps someone pushed him you’re not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyle’s eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose. 

The room quiets momentarily until Cerelle’s bell-like laugh pierces through the silence. 

“Qyle you idiot,” Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, “You’re supposed to wait till she’s laying down—”

“It was an accident!”

“—and her sweater!” Cerelle growls in annoyance, “Go upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.”

You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home. 

—

Cerelle’s room lacks color and warmth. 

You’d spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly. 

Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelle’s closet—double doors—and open it. Expensive. Perfumed. You’ve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.

“Playing dress up?” a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door. 

You close the closet door. You’ll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.

“Well, I suppose that was a given,” you answer him, sitting down on the bed.

Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame. 

“D’you want to see how you’re supposed to do it?” he suddenly asks.

“Do what?” you question, tilting your head to the side. 

“What Qyle was going to do,” he answers, and you understand his meaning. 

Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. You’re not sure why he’s asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.

“Alright,” you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs. 

“Spread them,” he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as you’re told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. “Wider.” 

Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and you’re forced to look up at him.

“Lean back,” he instructs. You’re beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows. 

You’re much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.

He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he can’t feel how warm they’ve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.

“You’re to put salt here,” he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, “That’s first.” He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Though we’re without.”

You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.

“May I?” he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.

Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, “You’re quite sensitive.”

“It’s cold.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, “The liquor goes here.” His fingers ruin the pattern he’s created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, “Tequila.”

“We haven’t got any,” you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly. 

Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes. 

His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining. 

“That’s how it's supposed to be,” he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes. 

“There’s one more part,” you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.

“What’s that?” he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer. 

He just wants to hear you say it, you realize. 

Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers. 

“There was a lime,” you tell him, “The person….holds it in their mouth.”

Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until they’re pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own. 

“Have you got a lime on you?” he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.

“No,” you murmur, not knowing where to look. He’s so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.

He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.

“Pity,” he says, lips down turning into a pout.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. He’s so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesn’t make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs. 

Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what he’s doing.

Riiiip!

“Aemond!” you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, “These were a new pair!”

“I can buy you another,” he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, “Or perhaps CeCe can. You’re her favorite plaything, aren’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.

“Oh she doesn’t like that,” he says, clicking his tongue, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. You’re certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? A pretty little plaything.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly. 

“No shame in that,” he says, shaking his head, “I understand Cerelle, entirely.” His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemond’s eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. “I like pretty things as well.”

“So I’ve heard,” you quip as Aemond’s second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.

“Have you?” he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, “And what have you heard?”

“That you’re as insatiable as your brother,” you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, “You just hide it better.” 

Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button. 

Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you. 

Seven hells, how is anyone’s tongue long enough to do what Aemond’s is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.

“Oh gods—fuck—fuck!” you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. “Hells Aemond…”

His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.

You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell he’s smug at the effect he’s having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty. 

You’re a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted. 

His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away. 

Aemond’s tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you. 

His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you. 

You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you. 

Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.

“Stop, stop, please.”

“Alright…shhh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, “There you go, that’s a good girl. You did so well for me.”

You can’t help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you?” he murmurs between sticky kisses, “Hmm?”

“Aemond…” you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.

You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.

“What would Floris say?” he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. “I thought you said something earlier,” he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching. 

“I don’t—”

“Loyalty, I recall,” he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, “Something like that.”

“Aemond,” you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, “Aemond please.”

“You’re going to have to say it,” he insists, kissing your cheek, “Come on, say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, “Please Aemond—gods.” 

“They can’t hear you,” he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, “You’re all mine.”

You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands. 

“Go on then,” he says, “Take what you want.”

With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. He’s bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. 

His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemond’s hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, “Gods, you’re so lovely.”

Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. “Gods—”

“You can take it,” he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, “Come on baby, that’s it, just like that.”

Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.

“That feel good?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack. 

“There she goes,” he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, “Take what you need, gevie.”

A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears. 

Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal. 

“That’s it,” he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, “Just like that—there’s a good girl.” His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins. 

His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely they’ll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release. 

It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.

No other man has made you finish before.

“Are you close?” Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, “I know you are—can feel you clenching around me.”

Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemond’s hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemond’s hand remains where he’d spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, “With your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.”

“Yes,” you practically gasp, “Yes, Aemond I’m close—”

“And you want to cum, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, Aemond please—” the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you. 

Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. He’s careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours. 

His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before it’s stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemond’s hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more. 

“Shhh,” he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, “Hear that?” he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “Listen.”

His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what he’s asking. 

The music downstairs has died.

“Everyone’s going home,” he murmurs, through another kiss, “We’d best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.

“Keep quiet,” he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, “Can you do that?” He’s rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. “Thought not.”

So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “Cum for me again, just like that.” His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand. 

“There you go,” he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, “Squeezing me so fucking tight—fuck.” He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head. 

Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction. 

“We’ll have more time next time,” he whispers the promise against your cheek, “I want to explore what other pretty noises you make.” His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release. 

“I’m very curious,” he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. “And I’m very thorough.” A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it. 

Aemond’s hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. You’ll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but you’ll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing. 

Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.

“Just fucked out,” you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.

The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. “Wait here,” he orders, walking towards Cerelle’s bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.

“Thank you,” you tell him, face burning from his attention.

“No need for thanks,” he insists, “It’s the bare minimum.”

“For you maybe.”

Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense he’s not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze. 

Not tonight.

“Are you staying here?” he asks, standing when he’s done, handing you pieces of your clothes.

“I think I have to,” you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, “The last bus is long gone.”

Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.

“I’ll have my driver take you,” he says, unlocking his screen.

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s no trouble,” he insists, placing the phone against his ear, “Cole. Ten minutes. Thank you.” He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.

“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelle’s large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look. 

“Aemond,” you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear.”

Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites. 

Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Think of them as a gift,” he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.

His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye. 

There’s something new there. Almost possessive. 

His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

Outside, snow begins to fall.

[devoureddreaa]

bros the type too.. ryomen sukuna boyfriend headcannons

okay…ik i disappeared for a few days (a month is not a few) but i’m back now, so yay!! and i’ve got sukuna headcannons cause he’s been growing on me lately, so hope you enjoy!! >.<

— bro is a menace to society and would most likely kill someone if they were to look at him for too long. but when it comes to you, sukuna can be a bit a softy. (a softy is an understatement, the curse is totally whipped).

for instance, he won’t let anyone touch him. touch him and you’ll end up with your head off of your shoulders. but when it comes to you..the literal love of his (overly long) life; you could touch him wherever and sukuna wouldn’t mind at all.

“why’d you stop?”

your gaze moved from your phone to the face that sat comfortably in between each of your thighs. you tilted your head to side and furrowed your eyebrows, “stopped what?”

sukuna looked puzzled, possibly looking for a way to explain it without sounded corny.

“the things you do with my hair.”

“oh, play with you hair?” a warm smiled appeared on your face first, then a breathless giggle. “thought you did like people touching you.”

“i don’t care with you do, woman.”

“whatever you want..”

he ended up getting his spiky pink locks played with again, and he ended up falling asleep like a new-born.

— bros the type to deny to everybody that he is head over heels for you. everyone sees it and everyone knows it..but if they were to ever mention it, sukuna would deny deny deny.

especially to his good friend, uraume. he’ll rant and rave about how good you are and how much he loves you any chance he gets with her.

“if you wanna marry her, just do it already!”

sukuna paused, “what?”

“you’ve been telling me about the girl for the past five minutes.” uraume laughed under her breath, “she really has you wrapped around her finger.”

— on top of that, bros the type to give you praise more than anything. he dosent know much about love languages, or affection in general. he’ll try when he feels it’s right, trust, he will cringe the first few times, having a hard time going anything in general. but he’ll get used to it.. (but he hates when you tease him about it)

“you say something?” you looked at the man through the mirror, he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as his gaze laid somewhere on the floor.

you were so busy with trying to line your lips, you didn’t hear what sukuna had said..

“i said you look good. really..beautiful.” it was a sight to see someone who could murder someone with the blink of an eye act so..timid.

“awe.” you turned you head and peered over your shoulder, “you shy, ‘kuna?”

“i take it back.” he grumbled, turning to leave the bathroom. you quickly ran after him and tugged onto his arm.

“i was juuust kidding!” you smiled innocently, “thank you, sukuna.”

he didn’t say anything back, but the look on his face was enough.

— bros the type to not use pet names that often. sukuna has never seen the point of them, and sees them as pointless. he uses them rarely, and whenever he does..it catches you off guard.

“bae..!” sukuna called out, he expected a quick response and was confused when he didn’t get one.

“bae!”

no response, “y/n!”

“huh?!” you finally responded and poked your head from around the corner with concern, “why are you yelling?”

“you weren’t responding.”

you took a second then realized, “oooh! you were calling me? thought that was something else..”

— bros the type to love you in his own weird way, even though he’s a sadistic psycho.

i finally uploaded… also! mb for disappearing, school and life got in the way. but im back! promise, im not a coryxkenshin 2.0 ;-;. ive got more things coming so i hope you enjoy..and remember, you can always request something! love you, baaaiii!!! (if you saw any typos, no you didn’t)

[tatoda]

Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader

request

masterlist

part 2

summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do

pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff <3

wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)

first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(

It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.

The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.

Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.

After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.

“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection

“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.

“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”

“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off

“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you

“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one

You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.

The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.

“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants

“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again

“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke

“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you

“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar

“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future

“how long have you been playing?”

“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods

“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”

“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him

“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you

“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross

“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him

“junior, what about you?”

“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable

“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements

“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed

“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip

“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”

[bluebeary-jay]

Halcyon days

Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)

Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1

Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word count: ~3K

A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊

You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.

“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”

“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.

“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”

Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.

“Sure you can.”

Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.

“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”

“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”

“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”

You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.

“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”

“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.

“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”

You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.

For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.

But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.

“Why’re you staring?”

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.

“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”

He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.

“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”

“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.

Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”

Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.

“On my cheek, you say?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.

“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”

It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.

After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.

Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.

Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.

Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.

“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.

“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”

“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”

“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.

“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“Not until–”

He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.

“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”

He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.

“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.

“I could say the same about you.”

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.

The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.

You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”

“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”

“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”

“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”

He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”

“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”

“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”

He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.

*****

You didn’t plan on falling asleep.

Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…

But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.

“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”

Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”

You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”

She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.

“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.

“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”

She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.

“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”

“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”

You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.

“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”

He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.

“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.

His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.

“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”

Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”

“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”

“No.”

“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.

“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”

“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.

“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”

“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.

And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.

“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”

“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”

While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.

“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”

You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.

He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.

He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.

[strrykais]

lie with you - not a date 📖

word count 1k.? (i lost track)

jisung was shitting bricks. he rarely has people come into his sanctuary, and much less girls. he has only had a total number of 3 girls in here. one his mom, two his ex and the last was you.

you made jisung really nervous, he fully couldn’t understand why. he kind of just pinned it on his social anxiety and went along his day. you were always so kind to him and you never really pushed him to do things that made him uncomfortable. in all honesty it started the day yall got stuck in the elevator. thats when the little feeling in his stomach started to form.

so with 7:30 creeping up on him, jisung is pacing the apartments living room trying to calm his beating heart.

“ji you okay? you look like you are gonna throw up.” donghyuck says walking out the smush room getting it ready for his one nighter.

“yeah im fine.” jisung quickly dismisses donghyuck wiping his sweaty hands on the front of his jeans.

“don’t be so nervous its just yn. you will be fine.” he says patting his hand on jisungs shoulder. “its almost 7:30 you should probably head down there.”

“yeah you are right. it will be fine!” jisung wasnt so convinced. grabbing his belongings, he ops to take the stairs to buy him some more time before he had to face the music.

the knock on the door doesn’t even catch you by surprise. jisung was always punctual, so when you opened the door the wind blowing the small pieces of your hair back, you give a bright smile to jisung on the other side.

“come in, let me grab my jacket. im not sure how cold you keep it in the studio!” you say with a big smile of excitement. you loved that jisung was letting you into his art life. you wanted to show him you cared so of course when he offered the opportunity to see his studio you couldnt say no.

the walk to jisung’s studio was quiet, but in a calming way. jisung was too focus on not making a fool of himself. he was worried he would say the wrong thing and have you running for the hills. but he knew you would never especially when you basically watched him embarrass himself in the elevator last time.

you were more focus on your boyfriend, he hasn’t messaged you back since you told him you were helping out a friend. was he upset? mad at you? you weren’t sure why. you both could of been together tonight but when work calls he always answers. before you could go further into self doubt jisungs smooth voice pulls you out.

“im sorry were you saying something?” you asked. jisung gives you a small smile, pointing up at the skies the beautiful reds, pinks and blues mixing. “my favorite part of the day, its always been my favorite to paint.”

“crazy because this is my favorite time too. right before the stars come out.” jisung gives out a breathy laugh leading the both of you to what you assume is the studio.

it was a lot smaller than you envisioned it, in the corner sat a desk with scattered sketches and charcoal. on the other was an unfinished painting of a beautiful sunset.

“its cozy in here” you say breathing in the smell of the chemicals of the paint he had left out which now was hard as rock stuck to the palette.

you continued to walk around the studio jisung close behind. the last of the sun shinning through the large windows showing the outside world. you suddenly stop, causing jisung to slightly bump into you. he mumbles out a sorry but you didn’t hear him your eyes caught something.

“you haven’t used the paintbrushes i got you? they are nice you should use them!” you say reaching out to softly touch the bristles.

rubbing the back of his neck, jisung nervously laughs. “yeah i didnt want to ruin something like this. it was from you and i wanna treasure it.”

you smile at him “its a gift for you to use, if you really mess them up that bad ill just get you some new ones okay?”

“promise?” jisung helds out his pinky. you glance down at his much larger hand and wrapped your smaller pinky around his “promise.”

jisung smiled and lead you to the desk of unfinished charcoal drawing, “im working on shadowing with charcoal wanna be model” he says looking at you while you stare at the beautiful drawings he had laid around.

“yeah how do you want me.” you perked up ready to listen to whatever jisung said. ears turning red, he leads you to a stool and sits you down.

you guys hung out well past midnight chatting and playing around in his studio. he showed you the art in mastering charcoal drawings and on the way home you showed him the star constellations in the sky.

previous | masterlist | next

a/n : i was eating in the first half… maybe writing isnt for me. this was kinda bad….

tags : @onlyhyunjin

[acaciusbride]

hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ❤️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!

You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel. 

You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint. 

They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it. 

“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.” 

Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul. 

It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way. 

It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were. 

——

Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day. 

You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement. 

Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel. 

The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked. 

Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw. 

“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment. 

“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice. 

“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed. 

He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it. 

He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted. 

Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide. 

You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass. 

You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours. 

“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust. 

“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…” 

It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin. 

“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh. 

“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all. 

“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it. 

“Are you sure?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?” 

You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you. 

“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time. 

You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly. 

“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot. 

“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting. 

“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first. 

You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he’s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break. 

“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest. 

Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans. 

“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.” 

You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm. 

You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans. 

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough. 

“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls. 

“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own. 

“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you. 

He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath. 

“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never. 

“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point. 

He drops a light kiss to your lips. 

“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat. 

“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.” 

[radioactive-reactions]

Just a quick little idea for a reaction, could you maybe do companions (and maybe Mr. House) finding out that the Courier is a pre-war ghoul?

Of course! The New Vegas fandom has just celebrated Mr. House's 4th birthday, so consider this my small contribution.

Ghouls were anything but uncommon in the Mojave, but those who had lived through the Great War were particularly exceptional. Everyone knew about the ghoulish Courier - zombies rising from the grave made good saloon talk, after all - but only those closest to them were trusted with the knowledge of just how old they were.

Raul is just happy to have another viejo around to commiserate with. Invariably, he begins to keep the two up long into the night trading stories of the Old World - and more often than not, the Old World's failings - around the campfire. "Hey, boss, you... you remember Cuna de Lobos? Ahh, the bomb dropped right at the end of Season 91, just when Catalina was about to show everyone what she'd been keeping stashed under her eyepatch. My grandmother would have killed to see it. She could have, too."

Boone is as unflinchingly stone-faced as ever, and his thoughts are quickly summed up in three succinct words: "I pity you." There's a moment of consideration, a realization that he may have gone too far, and he tries again. "You and all the... others. There are a few in the service. You knew what came before. Saw it with your own eyes. Christ, the rest of us must be like kids playing dressup to you. In your shoes, wouldn't have bothered staying around to see how it'd all turn out. No point."

Veronica has a million questions. Try as the Brotherhood might to hoard pre-War knowledge, she's never come quite as close to a living, breathing repository of it as she is now. "Wait, wait, back up, like... five steps. You're telling me you could walk into the bunker anytime you please and totally school Elder McNamara and you've just been sitting on that?! Oh my God! Okay, okay - is it true that every kid back then was raised by a robot slave? A-and did you really have to ritually encase all your food in Jell-O before you ate it?"

Cass gives an impressed whistle, looking the Courier up and down just to make sure they haven't actually been feral this entire time. "Fuck me. Uh, that's not an invitation - I don't want anything falling off. But that'd make you, what, two-hundred-something? Older than the Republic, the way they tell it. We've got some Rangers like that, supposedly the ultimate badasses if you look past the bad knees and the death rattle... but between you and me, I think you've got a sturdier claim to the title."

Arcade freezes up at the news, getting that awkward, wavering smile he always flashes when he's backed into a corner. "Wow. Uh... hey. Just so we're clear, I in no way endorse - o-or endorsed - the whole Enclave 'cleansing of the world's tainted' thing. I'd like to think that goes without saying, given the way my life has gone since then, but... just so we're clear. Uh, if you need any kind of specialized care, please just say the word. I've given Beatrix enough topical collagen to fill a bathtub... if one inexplicably wanted to do something like that."

Lily doesn't quite seem to get it, bless her heart, but enough careful explanation does slowly get her to regard the Courier as more of an equal than a grandkid. "MY MISTAKE! YOU DON'T LOOK A DAY OVER A HUNDRED, DEAR. WHATEVER YOU USE, I'VE JUST GOT TO GET DOCTOR HENRY TO MAKE ME SOME! IF I HADN'T MADE A PROMISE TO MY HUSBAND, REST HIS SOUL, I COULD JUST EAT YOU UP."

Mr. House predictably uses this as ammunition to further his own plans. There's no change in the face on the flickering screen, but whatever cold mental calculus drives him moves the Courier up a few spaces in his strictly regimented list of priorities. "Then you, more than anybody, understand what we have to lose - or rather, what we have to gain. Put another way, you are in a unique position to understand the resources at my disposal. Imagine the luxuries you enjoyed before the barbarians in Washington reduced you to this base, hardscrabble existence among the ruins of their shortsightedness - and I think you'll appreciate that ruins isn't simply a turn of phrase here. Imagine having them again: not just the house and the car, not just the material indulgences, but the structure that made them possible - will continue to make them possible. We alone know what's been lost, and we alone hold the potential to see it returned."

[urhoneycombwitch]

U just haaaaad to go and make another eddie for me to be feral over didn’t you? I need to know everything about roommate eddie pls 🤲🏻

IM IN LOVE W HIM TOO. thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak on it bc I have an origin story for roommate!Eddie with nowhere to go… until now 😈 here’s my other blurb of him btw linking in case others wanna see!! 🫶

so in this nebulous roommates!au, I’m imagining you’re besties with Robin. Eddie is besties with Steve. and of course since Robin and Steve are Ultimate Besties (in every world. in every universe.) they plot to get their respective Others together somehow. like, you’re offbeat and fun and so is Eddie!! should work out great right?

wrong. u and Eddie just don’t hit it off. you think he’s too loud and brash and godforbid he gets more than one beer in him ‘cuz he’ll be pulling you to the dance floor or making his own and embarrassing the everloving shit out of you. and he thinks you need to loosen up and get out of your head, which he decides is his new job that he takes VERY seriously.

eventually Steve and Robin stop trying to force it and yours and Eddie’s relationship just turns into casual frenemies. (a la Harry Met Sally) like, ah yes, You Again. the best friend of my best friend’s best friend 😒 you’ll hang out casually at various house parties and bars but always with a buffer, otherwise you’ll be at each other’s necks with (mostly) playful arguments and hot debates.

and it seems CRAZY at first that you’re gonna live in the same space but holy shit rent is so expensive in the Big City where you all moved to and it mind as well be with someone you know. you’re really worried about the set up but Eddie turns out to be real responsible with monthly payments and has a general respect for shared spaces (his own room is a black hole and it baffles you that he manages to have so many successful one night stands in that hell pit but you’re never in there so who cares.) plus it helps to have a man around fr, to spook the landlord into doing his job 👹 and also to fix things! and to give you lifts to work! and share snack duty! you find a rhythm and it’s great.

the night that he falls for you tho? you’re at group karaoke 3-shots deep and pick a cheesy Beatles song just to piss him off. simpering over your shoulder while you croon into the microphone, giving him a one-man-show that you hope triggers an earworm and irritates for days to come 💖 but actually he’s gripping his beer for dear life on the nearby barstool getting hit with the sickening realization of being in love. like oh fuck, this is bad. I cannot be falling for my pal’s pal. whom I also live with. what a fucking mess.

the night you fall for him? a second date goes sideways and you have no one else to call but Eddie. he fully leaves the solo gig he was about to play because you sounded so upset over the phone (doesn’t tell u that, tho!) and he could be a total asshole about it when he picks you up on the street corner but he absolutely isn’t. chews out your date, tho, with a viciousness that both delights and scares you. makes you a proper meal at home and wraps a strong arm around you on the couch and watches your favorite romcom and laughs at all the parts you laugh at. and you’re pressed up all close, wheels spinning in ur brain, unknowingly going through the exact same thought process Eddie had about a month earlier. Oh No. He’s My Bestie. Whom I Live With. This Cannot Possibly End Well.

aaaaand that about brings us up to canon speed, thus far! you and Eddie date around and have sex in your shared apartment but NOT with each other and if sometimes you get off to the sounds he makes when he’s fucking someone else and if sometimes he gets off to the noises of you in the shower well … no one’s business 🙂‍↔️

like why are u even asking about something soooo personal. like Robin you don’t get it it’s not like that I just wanna be near him all the time. that’s normal and what friends do. no, Steve, you’re not listening, we look at each other’s nudes as buddies. sorry you don’t understand how friendships work 🙄

(Robin and Steve have to set up weekly debriefs to compare notes and make sure they’re not going fucking crazy)

[stevie-petey]

Hello my love 💓

I know you have done some blurbs of bug and Jon as kids, but I was wondering if we could get a blurb of steve and Bug Meeting and hanging out for a second as kids??? Possibly seeing each other throughout the years of meeting at little times up to come home.

Have such a good day,evening, and night 🌙 ❤️

Can't wait for chapter 6 :)

hello !! since steve and bug werent friends as kids, i cant necessarily do scenes of them hanging out, but i can def do some steve insights since we know he watched bug from afar for yeaaaars (as for when they met, you can find that in chapter 7 of season 1 !)

enjoy <3

"hawkins sweetheart does it again," carol says with a sneer. she, steve, and tommy are all at their lunch table watching you show around some new student. youre smiling at the guy, kind and welcoming, and steve isnt surprised that the principal chose you to help the new guy. "god, she disgusts me."

"aw, c'mon carol." steve steals a french fry from her tray. "we all know that youre just jealous shes talking to him. hes a real looker."

the girl scoffs at him while tommy snorts. "hes alright. besides, henderson is with byers. you can stalk the new kid once shes done with him."

carol hits tommys shoulder and the two of them begin arguing, but steve drowns them out. he still stares at you. youre now showing the guy where the lunch trays go, and he seems to laugh at something youve said. it must be pretty funny, because he leans in close to you and places a hand on your arm.

the fry that had been in steves hand now becomes a mushed mess. with a sigh, he plops the food down onto carols tray and wipes his hand. no way the joke had been that funny.

he looks up at you again and finds that jonathan seems to be thinking the same thing. steve sees him hunch over his lunch with a scowl on his face as he watches you and the new kid. steve cant help but chuckle; hes so predictable.

you walk closer to where steve is sitting and he can hear your conversation with the guy. slightly, inconspicuously, steve leans in as close as he can without being noticed.

sue him. hes a curious person.

"mondays we get meatloaf, tuesdays its tacos, wednesdays its waffles-"

"im sensing a trend in the menu items." the guy interrupts you with a laugh.

you smile kindly at him and nod. "yup. real creative, huh?"

"oh, totally. back at my old school in wyoming, theyd serve us buffalo. so this is a real step up."

steve cringes and your jaw drops. "buffalo?"

the guy laughs again, and steve notices the newfound confidence he exhibits. he hates the guys now. hes not sure why. "mhm. are the waffles here any good?"

"oh, theyre terrible. all the food is."

you start to walk away now, voice fading, and steve cant help but marvel at how well you seem to connect with everyone. in only an hour, you already have the new guy practically eating out of the palm of your hand. he drools over you and yet you dont seem to notice or care.

all while byers broods in the corner, waiting for you to return to him.

hawkins sweetheart.

steve cant think of a better name for you.

he still hates the new guy though.

[beidousbunny]

me? horny asks? noooo neverrrr

ok but in ur humble opinion, which genshin boyos do you think would make the best subs? (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

mwah

# — ⛧ THE BRAT, THE SLUT, AND THE OBEDIENT⌇

💌 — my spin on which genshin menses are the best subs, as an indecisive fuck who can’t decide if im a brat tamer, slut lover or soft dom <3

!! — kaeya, childe, zhongli x dom reader, k; exhibitionism, kaeya’s a slut, c; (light) feminization, degrading, name calling, z; service sub, zhonglis a tease 😮‍💨

— THE BRAT.

kaeya is a lot of things.

a liar, a drunk, a cocky bastard, and most importantly; a brat.

he’s the kind of brat that always keeps tension high, and the air hot, constantly looking for a way to tease and work you up.

when you catch his eye randomly from across the room, he’s making lewd motions with his hands, mock pleasure on his face as he pretends to suck a cock or get fucked. he’s a genius at timing these teases— he always got away with it, but not you.

your face flushed even more with embarrassment, as people around ask if you’re feeling well. you see kaeya smirk out of the corner of your eye as he watches you try to make something up, while so disheveled.

finally got control of him? your hand tangled in his hair and his face inbetween your thighs? he’s never going to break eye contact as he laps at your pussy hungrily. he’s going to tilt his head teasingly, and tuck his hair behind his ear, giving you that look of want.

“i’m gonna fuck you ‘till you’re sobbing kaeya,”

“oh, really?” he asks cockily, “i think you’re going to have to fuck me much harder to make me cry~”

he’s got a big fucking smirk on his face too, because he knows that you’ll give him a reaction, and fuck him like a whore. just how he wants.

— THE SLUT.

tartaglia is my personal slut of choice. i’m a believer that if you get far enough to be dominant with him, he’s going to enjoy himself and not put up a fight, allowing you to slut him out, while he drools. you know the kinky fuck isn’t fighting back not because he can’t, but because he truly enjoys this.

he loves being at your mercy, as you degrade and tease him, nothing turns him on more.

you wanna fuck him with a strapon? he’s arching his back and burying his face in the pillows, whining like a girl.

want him to eat you out while you fuck his face? he’s practically making out with you cunt, licking your pussy like it’s his last meal.

wanna play with his sensitive body till he cries? tie him up and he’ll moan and whimper for you like a slut, begging you to let him cum, cause he’ll be ‘sooo good’ for you.

he’s just a perfect little boy toy that’ll get on his knees any time you’re mean to him. it’s just so fucking sexy that he gets all hot and bothered from you humiliating and degrading him.

he’s the best little whore <3

(just like jd in dead girl walking if you’re demanding things and of childe and bossing him around he’s just gonna be all whipped like 😵‍💫😳 ok ok mommy)

— THE OBEDIENT

zhongli loves to learn about new things, especially if it pleases you. he’s a total service sub, and he’ll do anything to make you feel good.

he’s totally shameless about asking if you two can try something new in bed, after all, you’re lovers right?

“darling, would you like to try sitting on my face?” zhongli asked nonchalantly, taking a small sip of his tea. “childe said that if i do well enough you’ll.. ride my face?” he’s not even making eye contact, and you can see the little smirk on his lips.

you two were literally eating dinner.

“sounds lovely,” you compose yourself quickly, “i think it would be best if i tied you up for that, no?” he certainly wasn’t expecting that you’d clap back, you noted that flicker of want in his eyes.

“anything for you, dearest.” zhongli coos with the same nonchalance, and you know he means it, so there’s no harm in letting him tease you for a little fun.

zhongli. loves. pegging. he loves the intimacy of it! he wants to hold your hand as you work your way into his hole, squeezing when he feels it deep.

please cup his cheek and tuck his hair behind his ear too, he will literally melt.

when you start fucking him, no matter how slow the pace, he’s going to praise you so sweetly. he’s been so touch starved for thousands of years, he’ll obey whatever command it takes to get that sweet release.

“a-ah— dearest, it feels like heaven when you make love to me... p—please, do as you wish to me.”

[illogicallyx]

headcanons | nanami kento x coworker!femreader

content: established relationship<3 + uhhh its just fluff ig and basically what i think he'd be like in a rls and just some hcs for me to soak in before i can write a proper fic for him

im thinking abt how a rls with coworker!nanami would be like

like you both are polar ppposites but it works and how it works is always a genuine question to new interns.

like when some of the interns are under his guide and some under urs, its a whole different experience for the two groups

and when they all get together during lunch they moan and bitch abt how nanami is so strict abt work and how u are the total opposite with how chill u are and how nanami's interns wish they were under ur wing.

imagine their shock when they see you and him. together. by the coffee machine. o_0 like ??? and is that their mentor LAUGHING???

yeah its a very unique rls but adored by you both nonetheless

i can imagine him bringing your favorite snack as a treat when you both work overtime or when you come back from a meeting you will always see a candy bar with a note of encouragement at ur desk

and i just know this man would gossip with you over the Office Tea when you both come home and make dinner together

and ahhhh i can imagine like coming to ur small apartment on a Friday night with plans to stay in and have chill weekend and like-

i have this specific scene in my head like his jacket's off and his tie is loose and both ur work bags are thrown across the sofa along with ur heels somewhere near the door -

your arms around his neck and his around ur waist and u both slow dancing in ur living room <333

ughhh ur rls would be filled with such domesticity and cozy feels like i can imagine you both having traditions like movie nights and reading nights where u both read or watch each other's favourite movie or book each time u both get ur day off

i just know this man would be like so so gentle with you and be so caring when it comes to you

also imagine you being clumsy af i just know this man will literally walk faster and press his hand towards the sharp corner of things like your counter or a wall just to cushion the hit when you walk into them bc u do that. ALOT.

ugh he's The ultimate man. he'd talk to you in a soft and gentle voice no matter what happens no matter how annoyed he is with you sometimes. he'd definitely be the type to ask for a time out to calm down if he gets particularly angry just so he doesnt let his emotions get the best of him

i can also imagine him being the type to help u take ur god awful heels off when you're particularly tired from work one day like you just fling yourself onto the bed and he just chuckles at ur antics and kneels by the bed to take them off for you knowing u do not have the energy to move after that hard day

oki these are enuff for now ig <333

[lynnlovesspidahman]

this is me trying.

peter parker x reader

part 2. || part 1.

masterlist.

warnings : angst, mentions of violence, swearing, lots of self-doubt (peter im sorry)

word count : 2.7k

summary : There’s always two sides to a story. An apology is put into place.

Peter felt like he was living three different lives at once.

Each taking so, so much energy every single day.

His job, an assistant for Dr. Octavius at Octavius Industries. He felt guilty for arriving late every day, and still somehow having a job.

Peter was smarter than Doc, they both knew that. So that meant he would be called to office very, very often.

Usually because of some mistake Doc had made while working on the new prototypes of prosthetic limbs.

But the pressure it brought could get to be too much sometimes. One small mistake could cost millions of lives — or dollars — if not noticed early enough.

But he knew it would help the world someday, in so many ways. The exhaustion was totally worth it.

Spider-Man. Peter had loved and genuinely enjoyed playing his alter-ego.

Constantly, day and night, he was out. Out saving people everywhere. Sure, his work wasn’t appreciated by everyone but it was 100% worth it — to him.

But Spider-Man came with considerable costs. His everlasting lack of sleep. Peter can’t remember the last time he really got his 8 hours. The bags under his eyes made that apparent enough.

The physicality of the job, how many times had he stopped a car with his bare hands? He lost count years ago.

The bruises, cuts, broken limbs, brought immense pain, even to Spider-Man. Sure, he can heal faster — a nights rest, a heating pad, and your some soup is more than enough — But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

And the emotional weight it brought.

The crimes haven’t slowed, if anything they’ve gotten much more prominent all around the city.

The overwhelming amount of times he has to swing across New York to fight off large groups of thugs has become too much.

And honestly, he’s so sick of it.

And so, Peter stopped pulling his punches as much.

The guilt didn’t come until later.

He climbed through your apartment’s window after a long, long night of patrol.

You were sitting there — unaware of his presence— watching TV, all cuddled up on the corner of the couch with your mini Spidey plush.

“Hey, beautiful.” He called out to you.

“Holy shit-” You jumped and turned around to look at him. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere like that, you scared the hell out of me.”

You got up and walked towards him, “Was patrol okay?”

“Uh, yeah it was alright, kicked my ass tonight though. I’m worn out,” He stretched his arms above his head.

“Hm. Why?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uhm, I mean I fought bad guys all night?” He scoffed, a stupid question, he thought.

“Or was it because you practically killed someone tonight?” You bluntly said.

You had taken a step away from him, like he was a danger to you too.

“They were a criminal!” He shrugged.

“Why does that matter? You can’t just completely take someone’s life away. That’s not who you are. Before you say you didn’t, you came real close to.” You stood your position.

It felt like you shot him straight in the heart.

He should’ve listened to you. But instead, he took a shot right back at you, a shot to kill.

“Again, they’re criminals. I’m sorry I had to calm things down somehow. I’m sorry I needed to do something to catch a break for once in my damn life. And you’re not exactly helping that.” He looked away from you. He felt ashamed.

You were right, he knew that, even then. But his pride couldn’t let him admit it.

“What is wrong with you? You love Spider-Man. And you always talk about how killing sickens you. You’ve changed, Peter.” You spat back at him.

He should’ve just ended it there, stopped the excessive violence, stopped the fight. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been in your kitchen on that faithful Tuesday.

It had been two days since that argument.

His almost perfect rep was officially ruined (Jameson had a field trip that day, too). The stress was at an all-time high.

He almost couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to anymore.

He was still so angry at you for being right. Because you always were.

You were the one who kept him balanced, who took care of him no matter the time of day or night.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the fight, either.

But he would return to it after a tough night the day after. And the next.

And you forgave him, so fast (He took you to see the Barbie movie, paid for every snack and drink you could’ve wanted. It was indisputable on your end). The guilt from what Peter’s put you through has just stacked on and on.

Now he really couldn’t handle it anymore. 

And so, there he was. Sat atop a random rooftop rethinking everything.

He debated his life. His three lives, more like. Which parts were worth it, and which weren’t. (It was really fucked up, who measures parts of their life in worth and just decides which to throw away?)

He couldn’t lose his job, how would he make money?

He couldn’t stop being Spider-Man, he knew that.

And there was you. The biggest and undoubtedly the most important part.

But you were also easy to throw away, he thought.

So much stress and time would be lifted off of his shoulders.

(Little did he know, it would be the complete opposite. His injuries didn’t heal all the way like they did when you took care of him. Every time he was hurt, it would linger for days at a time. He missed how much you’d worried for him. He really took you for granted.)

And so, he decided in the next couple of weeks, he would break it off.

And he did. On the Tuesday the following week.

He looks back on it — to this day — and realized everything he had said to you that evening, wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at himself.

Of course he enjoyed loving you. He didn’t enjoy being himself was what.

He needed to be his best for you because he couldn’t be with anything else. He failed at being the friendly and reliable Spider-man. Him and Doc didn’t get the grant they’d been needing for so long.

And when he did try to improve when you called him out that night, it just wasn’t enough.

He didn’t deserve you.

He took everything out on you, he didn’t mean a word he said. But you didn’t know that.

Peter never had an outlet to take anything out. He couldn’t leave you with every burden of his life, Doc and him weren’t that close, and May couldn’t know he was Spider-Man.

He snapped that Tuesday.

And there’s nothing more that he regrets in his entire life.

But he couldn’t burden you anymore. He wouldn’t.

He did nothing but keep you up late at night, hurt your feelings, and make you do everything for him.

Peter loved you. And he couldn’t let himself torture you like this.

So he forced himself to let you go. You would move on, anyways. He couldn’t.

He listened to every single one of the voicemails you sent.

Every. Single. One. He’s never heard you sound so down (Because of him, nonetheless).

It took so much out of him to not respond. More than what he had to give.

And after five weeks, he finally caved.

He texted you.

9:52 PM

Hey, beautiful.

You wouldn’t forgive him quick this time, he knew that. This time wasn’t just some fight. He tore your heart apart.

But he would work for your forgiveness, he swore to himself, God as his witness.

You read the message immediately. He knew you had gotten off of work, so it wasn’t completely abnormal.

But you didn’t respond. He checked his phone all night and the next morning (He was desperate for something, even if it was an angry text. He hated nothing more than you ignoring him).

So he texted you again. He just went straight for it this time, no holding back anymore.

1:16 PM

Can we meet up?? I think we can agree there’s still some loose ends we need to revisit, together.

Read 1:18 PM

He was patient this time. He tried stepping in your shoes, and it broke his heart. He couldn’t imagine you snapping on him like he had.

He couldn’t live if you were angry at him like he was at you. And if you weren’t going to respond again he was debating on just showing up to your apartment. Can’t ignore him that way.

2:12 PM

Y/N 💞 : “Loose ends” is a funny term. You mean when you randomly showed up to my apartment and broke up with me for the stupidest reason?

He cringed. This was a dumb decision.

2:12 PM

I know, trust me. I just want to talk. And explain myself.

Explain my biggest mistake. I’ve never regretted anything more than leaving you and taking the anger at myself onto you.

He debated on sending the message, but he didn’t.

You would just see it as him trying kiss your ass into forgiving him. It worked before.

2:14 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, why? Why are you only just know texting me? Why are you trying to meet up when you tore my heart into pieces? Why are you seeking forgiveness randomly?

Why are you asking such hard questions, he wanted to ask.

2:14 PM

Idk, I miss you?

I miss you and still love you. I regret that night so much.

Can you just hear me out? Please?

Nothing sounded right. But he just went for it, again. At this point, he was pacing across his rooftop, anxious for your response (If you even gave him one).

2:15 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, I swear. If you make me regret this, I’ll come for you. Worse than any enemy you’ve ever faced and ever will.

He laughed at that one. You wouldn’t —right?—

2:15 PM

I won’t, Y/N. I promise. Tomorrow, Micks at 3?

Read 2:16 PM

You left him on read, but he counted that as a success — you didn’t refuse his offer so.. —

He would come back from this. He has to.

Peter was late. Fuck him.

Why did you even give him your time of day anymore? This man could tear you apart and you still gave into his words.

3:13 PM

Peter 🕸️ : Babt, I’mso sotry. I got caugjt up with worl, I’m bloxks away I sqaer.

You could barely understand him, but you were used to his usually proper grammar slipping while he was swinging.

How dare he? How dare he beg you to come out here and he gets to show up late??

He practically busted the restaurant’s door open. He rushed to your table.

“Baby I-”

“No,” You interrupted. “You don’t get to call me that. Fuck you, asshole. You ask me to meet you and you show up late? Are you kidding me?” You crossed your arms and stood up from the booth you were sitting at.

“Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I got caught up with Doc at work. Huuge internal wiring problem. I don’t even understand how he could’ve messed it up so badly,” He talked with his hands, he was so cute when he did that.

You took a step towards him, and slapped the shit out of his stupidly attractive face.

“You don’t get to break me and show up late when you wanted me here.” The tears were back. You were livid. You shoved your finger into his face as you scolded him.

“I know, I know. I keep fucking up and I’m sorry. Lets just sit down and let me explain everything. I promise you, it’s worth it.” He put his hands on both of your shoulders to keep you from leaving and tried to calm you down.

“Hands off,” You pulled his hands away from your shoulder and slumped back into the booth.

You wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay.” He sat down and stared at you.

“Well?” You waited, “Let’s hear this explanation,” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, uh-” He paused for a moment, “I don’t know how to start.”

You waited for him to continue, arms still crossed. You really didn’t want to hear him out.

“Do you remember when I almost beat the life outta that guy? Like a month ago or something?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes again, not exactly a good moment to bring up.

“I feel like that’s where it started,”

“Mhm..” You nodded for him to keep going.

“I started slipping. I stopped pulling my punches and I was so stressed out every moment of my life. A-and one day I just got so sick of it,” He started choking up, you almost felt bad for him.

“So I sat down and tried to organize my life. I wanted to rid myself of stress and try to free up time for myself in order to y’know, rejuvenate.”

You sat there, you were expecting plain excuses. But it seemed he had something real going here.

“I couldn’t rid myself of my job — how else would I be able to live? — and obviously Spider-Man isn’t a choice. And there came you. The best and biggest part of my life.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I was stupid, I thought that by taking a break, I’d feel more free. And feel more.. well less stressed out. If I had something to myself then I would be better and feel okay? I don’t know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, please. I was so overwhelmed with everything. I’ve been so behind on rent, and crime just never stops around here. Its like it raises more and more every week.”

“I thought-” He took a deep breath, “I thought that if I had one less chore — trust me you are not a chore to me — life would get easier.”

You’re guessing he tried to rephrase his words he said before, he’s almost repeating himself.

“But it didn’t. At all. I was in pain all the time — emotionally and physically — it didn’t help at all. I said I didn’t enjoy loving you. I lied. I didn’t enjoy loving myself- or being me.”

Your heart clenched for him. He hurt you so bad, but hearing how he truly felt made you slightly reconsider things.

“I didn’t enjoy the stress of my life, and I don’t have any outlet for my anger. And you forgave me so easily the last time we fought. And I guess I took advantage of that. I took all of the hate I had for myself onto you. I think that will forever be my biggest mistake.”

Your eyebrows scrunched.

“I love you. So much, Y/N. More than words can describe. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life and I can’t ever be away from you, again.”

“I broke it off thinking it would cause me less stress, but I understand now that it was you who took the pressure away. Being away from you, Y/N,” He laughed (At his own pain, seemingly). “I’ve never felt shittier in my life.”

Your tears flowed. Your expectations were well exceeded. He’s fucked up so much, but he makes up for it every time. And this time, it wasn’t done by kissing your ass and spoiling you, you recognized that.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am. I regret what I did to you that night so much. More than anything in the world. I just hope you can understand that.”

“I hope you can understand me.” He kept eye contact, his eyes were watery. “I know how complicated I can get,” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Pete.” You just about whispered his name.

“Yeah..?” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before answering you.

“I forgive you.” You smiled, still crying from his well thought out (you had to give him credit) apology.

“Wait- Really?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He stood up and hugged you from across the table.

“But..”

“But..?” He repeated you, curiously. He let go of the hug to look you in the eyes.

“You’re gonna have to pay for the meal if you really want me back.”

He laughed.

“I love you.”

He grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He’s never kissed you so hard.

Stunned, but pleasantly surprised, you sat there for a moment. Unsure of whether you should kiss him or not.

But you grabbed his collar and melted into the kiss.

No matter how hard he had broken you, his words brought you back to him.

And you wouldn’t regret it, you knew that.

part 2 is finished 🥹

just wanna explain a few things just in case:

peter is a lil ooc w the excessive violence and it’s not him to be like that but i feel like every body gets to that point where everything can be just too much. even spider-man.

i also feel like he needs a healthy outlet for his feelings, being spiderman, he’s constantly busy. not exactly easy to make friends. but also being spiderman, he doesn’t wanna leave y/n with all of his problems, he’s supposed to be the hero. so he bottles it all up. to the point where he just burst one day and took it out on her. (not good!!)

also i felt like him being a man, he’s going to feel insecure if y/n’s the one taking care of him all the time. he’s the man, it’s supposed to be the other way around, but it’s not. and that’s okay!! often times, old traditions still lies deep within all of us. men’s mental health matters too!! men can still feel insecure!! EVERYONE DOES. but that doesn’t mean we (as people) can take out our insecurities or anger at ourselves onto other people. most times, they don’t deserve the hate we bring onto ourselves.

that being said, not everyone can be perfect. (peter is a great example) we’re all going through something in life and are constantly being tested. but, the biggest thing is to always persevere no matter what. you’re never going to have more on your plate than you can handle. if you’re struggling, always remember to reach out to someone. a loved one, a professional, or even me. my dms are always open. i love you all. 🩷

anyways,

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!!

i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i liked writing it 💗💗

[wonjinburger]

writing prompt #03

you and a hot stranger get trapped in an elevator ; yang jungwon

태양보다 찬란한

. . . 그게 바로 나

INFO : : yang jungwon x reader / hurt comfort

wc : <1300

you know, going to work after getting my heartbroken just a few hours ago isn't the most ideal morning i had in mind.

my boyfriend, well, now ex-boyfriend had apparently been cheating on me for months now. to think we almost lasted 2 years together, and to think i thought he was as perfect as one could get, guess i was completely wrong. he didn't even pretend to hide it, he was all cocky about it, fucking douchebag.

i had just finished getting ready and i looked like a mess. the bags under my eyes are as dark as ever, my eyes are red and puffy too, i can't believe i spent the whole night crying over that asshole.

i left my house and waited for the elevator to reach my floor. someone appeared next to me a few minutes later. i would've taken a quick peak if i wasn't on the verge of tearing up again. the elevator door opened and we both got in.

the person that got in with me stood closer to the control panel, and i stood in a far corner. "are you going to the ground floor?" i looked at the person and it was a guy who looked pretty attractive. he had these pretty brown eyes that sort of resembled a cat?

"oh uh.. yeah" he nodded and pressed on the ground floor button, which i assume is where he was headed as well. i thanked him as the elevator slowly went down from the 17th floor. now that i think about it, i don't think i've ever seen this guy around here, even more so on my floor.

i was debating whether or not to start up a quick conversation with him when he suddenly spoke. "so.. you live on the 17th floor too?" "uh.. yeah. we kind of got on the elevator on the same floor.." "right right.." he nodded awkwardly before turning away from me.

'that was awkward'

"did you just move here?" i asked him. he looked back and answered with a quick nod. "ah, welcome to the neighborhood, i'm lee y/n, and i assume we're neighbors?" i bowed slightly to welcome him around here and he did the same. "thank you. i'm yang jungwon."

'that's a cute name'

we went silent again, but this time it was more comfortable than it was before.

suddenly the elevator lights flickered and the elevator shook a little. and after a while the shaking and flickering stopped, but so did the elevator itself.

"ah.. i can't believe we're stuck here" jungwon said as he pressed the emergency button.

knowing the apartment complex, it would probably take half an hour for someone to get us out. so might as well start conversing to pass some time.

"it's gonna take the management a while to get here" he looked back at me, a hint of confusion could be seen from his eyes. "does this happen a lot?" "not really? i was just unfortunate to have this happen last year as well. not to mention it was the first day of my new job that day" i laughed it off and jungwon seemed to be a bit taken aback. "did you get into trouble for it?" "not really. i explained the situation to my boss and she totally understood me" he nodded in, i assume relief, that i wasn't in trouble.

i suddenly received a text message and just as i saw the contact name i wanted to throw my phone out of the elevator, unfortunately for me, the door was stuck so that was a no go. i hesitantly opened the chat and it read 'im sorry, i didn't mean any of it, i was just drunk and out of it, please give me another chance'. now i wanted to throw myself out of the elevator and off a building. how does he have the nerve to say that when he acted like the biggest asshole last night.

i couldn't help but choke out a few sobs. seems like jungwon noticed, because the next thing i know, he was next to me offering me tissues to wipe my tears. "sorry you have to see this" i apologized as i wiped away my tears with the tissues he offered. "it's nothing, don't worry about it y/n".

i calmed down after a short while and let out a deep sigh. "if it helps you at all, i'm here to listen if you want to share" i looked at him with my tear filled eyes and smiled a little. "it's kind of embarassing.." "i'm sure it isn't" i was mentally debaitng if i should tell him, since he was you know, a stranger, but maybe him being a stranger was a good thing too? i won't really ever have to see him unless we just so happen to bump into each other at the apartment complex.

"i found out my boyfriend of 2 years has been cheating on me for months last night"

i felt a hand on my back patting in a slow but steady motion. "i'm so sorry you had to go through that, i'm sure he just lost the best person to ever exist in his life" what he said made me chuckle a little. "he just asked me if we could have another go at our relationship, but he acted so nonchalant about it last night when i confronted him too" i slowly sat down on the elevator floor, feelings starting to overwhelm me.

jungwon sat down as well but said nothing. he just sat there and comforted me, allowing me to let my feelings out.

after a little while of crying again he asked if i was feeling a bit better now. "yeah, thanks for your company, i honestly needed this."

and i don't know what was going on in my head. maybe it was all the emotions i was feeling, or the dim lights and quiet atmosphere, but as i was looking at his gorgeous brown eyes, something about the way he looked at me made me want to do something i never thought i'd do.

he stared at me as i stared back, our faces were slowly inching closer to one another. as we were centimeters apart, he stopped. "i don't think this is good for you.. it's like i'm taking advantage of you.. we should stop." he started to move away, but i held his hands and he looked back at me with those eyes again.

"i don't think this is good for neither of us too.. but if i'm gonna be honest, i want to do this.. and i may be wrong, but you want it too don't you?"

he took one last look at me before we both inched closer and connected our lips together.

this was probably an impulsive thing to do, and i would probably come to regret it once we get out of here, but right now, all i could focus on was him and how comfortable i felt around him.

i moved back and broke the contact we had, both of us now catching our breaths while still looking into each other's eyes.

"is this gonna be a one time thing y/n?"

was it? i didn't think about that. maybe i'll start regretting making out with a stranger in an elevator even before we get out of said elevator.

he looked at me with such hope and confusion, it made me want to stay in that moment forever.

"i don't know jungwon.. but i hope it isn't as well.."

[azzypzazzy]

Love Me Anyway

warnings: mild cursing

summary: reader and charlie had been friends since they were kids, and dated in private for a while until they broke up, and they’re now alone together for the first time in forever.

wordcount: 861

a/n: title is based off of love me anyway by chappell roan because it’s actually such a good song and i listened to it while thinking about this, which was based off of a dream and a few boygenius songs (emily im sorry my beloved). anyways, this is a little blurb i wrote, which im not sure if im gonna continue, honestly depends if anyone actually cares. also wrote this because i recently went through a shitty breakup so why not

“Charlie?” His eyes met yours, concern plastered on your face.

He took a moment. It felt unnatural. Everything had. Having to ask you, the person who knew him best, how life has been. It irked him, not knowing a thing about you anymore, “Sorry. I’ve been alright. Just streaming, trying to figure everything out.” 

You nodded, fiddling with the bracelets around your wrist. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice, “Something wrong?” 

Another pause. 

He always knew when something was wrong. “Not really. I guess I’ve just been a bit off, you know..” Your voice trailed off, never framing it as a question. He always knew. 

“Definitely,” he mumbled, his hand reaching up to itch the bottom of his jaw. All he wanted to do was pull you into his arms, be there for you, be the one for you. He had to be. Instead, he sat next to you, cramped in the car, desperate to distract himself. “Anything new with you?” 

You finally smiled, a faint chuckle escaping your lips, “Didn’t you ask me that already?” 

Seeing you happy allowed him to finally breathe, the tension between you two a bit lighter. “Guess I did.” 

He knew you hadn’t told him the full truth. And you had to know he knew. 

You sucked in a breath, “I got a new job a bit ago.” 

“That’s good to hear, glad you finally quit serving. Place was a fucking dump,” He paused. It was subtle, but he couldn’t miss how your expression changed, how you now couldn’t look him in the eye. “Uh, so what’re you up to now?”

Your eyes darted out the window, probably looking to see if your friends were coming back to your rescue. After a moment you responded with a mumble, “I didn’t quit or anything, just started picking up shifts at the Citgo. My ex moved out a bit ago, and the place isn’t really fit for a roommate, so ‘m trying to pick up the slack.” 

Oh. You had a boyfriend. 

Charlie swallowed, barely able to collect himself to comfort you. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s—It’s fine,” You shook your head. Your hand had moved up from your bracelets to your rings. “It was for the better anyways, he was an asshole.” 

“If it helps, I haven’t had much luck romantically either,” He admitted, his eyes meeting yours again. Did it? 

The corners of your lips turned up subtly, only enough for Charlie to notice. “That sucks. But uh, at least we’ve still got time, right?” 

“Yeah,” He assured you, “We’ve still got plenty of time.” 

Silence filled the car, neither of you knowing how to continue the conversation. 

Charlie’s right leg bounced up and down, his hand resting on his left. “Hey, uh, you remember when we promised to get married if we were still single by twenty five?” He chuckled, anxiously meeting your gaze. He couldn’t tell if it was a good conversation starter, or an extremely weird thing to bring up. 

You once again laughed, a grin staying on your face once you stopped. “Christ, Charlie. We were sixteen, you’re gonna hold me to that?” 

“What? Oh come on—I’m not saying that. I was just thinking about how stupid we were. I mean, married by twenty five. Who even wants that?” He laughed, trying desperately to escape the teasing which was sure to come. 

And come it did, as you let out another cackle, “You do! You totally do! Oh my god, you’re seriously gonna lie about that to me? It’s—Jesus christ man,” You continued to laugh, wiping non existent tears from the corners of your eyes, “It’s fine, just, like, that’s not even that old? Like, why would we ever say that?” 

He turned his head, resting on the window, “I don’t. I really don’t. I’m happy right where I am,” But as you continued your laughing fit it got harder for him to remain serious, forcing him to finally crack a smile. “Well, you could’ve done way worse than me.” 

You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Oh trust me,” Your hand met his shoulder, firmly grabbing him, “I have.” 

He could only laugh more, unsure what to do. Everything was perfect, normal again. Trapped in an isolated moment, in a world of uncertainty. The way the moonlight spilled through the windows to hit your face. The familiar scent of your perfume trapped in the car. The way your crows feet crinkled when you laughed. He’d missed all of it dearly. 

Your arm retreated back to your lap, snapping him back into reality, only to hear you whisper a small apology. 

He felt his breath pick up, worried he just ruined everything he spent all night trying to build up. “No worries,” He tried to smile again, wanting the energy to pick up. Wanting you back. 

“You know, I really missed you,” You admitted, your voice dropping into a small whisper. You fiddled with your own thumbs, the need to fidget still prevalent. 

He took a final breath, trying to calm himself. “I missed you too,” He said, before following it by a whisper, “More than you’ll ever know.” 

[apenapaperandadoofus]

HIII IM SORRY TO ASKTHIS HUT I HAVE READSKME OF YOUR STORIES AND CAN I REQ A AFAB X DOM DILUC💗💗💗 BUT YHEY JUST FINISHED FIGHTING IF ITS OKAY FOR YOU CAN U MSKE IT SMUT<333 (hes on my mind for days omg)

DONT WORRY IM IN A GENSHIN (ESPECIALLY DILUC) HYPERFIXXATION SO IM HAPPY FOR THE ASK

We fight we break up we kiss we make up (Dom!Diluc x AFAB!Reader)

I legit had no title ideas and Katy was the first thing that popped to mind lol

Also I had to look into the tavern because I needed to remember what it looked like and APPARENTLY IT HAS A THIRD FLOOR I TOTALLY FORGOT so yeah now you know

And apologies if it sounds a bit weird, for some reason my brain is not translating and writing correctly, it’s just one of those days yknow? Also could be cuz I’ve been running on literally nothing but caffeine oops

“I’m back.” You called out opening the front door of Angel’s Share.

The usually loud tavern filled with drunken laughter and music was now replaced by dimmed lights and silence. It was late at night, and you had just finished a tiring day of endless commissions.

You looked towards the bar, where your boyfriend usually was tidying everything up for the next day, but instead found the new hire on his spot.

He looked up and smiled.

“Miss, you’re back. Ah! If you’re looking for Master Diluc he is up in the storage room.” The young boy pointed up.

“Thanks Leon. Don’t stay here too late alright?” You smiled in appreciation.

He nodded, and went back to the task at hand.

You climbed up towards the third floor of the tavern, legs aching from the amount of walking you did that day.

“Why are there so many goddamn stairs.” You groaned.

Finally you made it up to the third floor, however, before you were even done walking up the stairs, a loud thud and a string of curse words caught your attention.

The storage door was slightly open, a small amount light pouring out from inside.

“Diluc?” You walked into the room, finding the familiar redhead kneeling down and picking up a bottle of wine.

Thankfully it hadn’t shattered, but a hefty amount of the drink poured out on the floor.

Walking over you took your handkerchief and cleaned the spilt liquid, making Diluc glance at you in surprise.

“You’re back.” He said. His eyes flickered around your face, checking and examining for any sign of injury.

You chuckled. “I am. Rough day at work? I swear I’ve never seen you spill any of the bottles before.”

Diluc huffed and stood up. “This sort of thing is not exactly unusual for bartenders.”

You frowned at his cold reply, raising a brow. “Really bad day huh?”

“Why did you come back so late?” He said. “Commissions usually don’t take you that long. You know it’s dangerous at night.”

Placing the now wet handkerchief on the corner you stood up and stretched. “Oh please Diluc, you know I can handle myself. Besides Franz was with me.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “You were paired up with him again?”

“He asked for my help patrolling a few areas around Springvale and we kind of lost the track of time. Besides he’s new into the guild and as his senior I should help him right?”

“He’s been in the guild for six months already, if he isn’t able to handle the job by now maybe he should think of another occupation.”

Diluc crossed his arms, scoffing. “And besides, what exactly was it that made the two of you ‘loose the track of time’ so much that it became one in the morning? Last time I checked, scouting for hilichurl camps doesn’t exactly take that long”

You looked at your boyfriend with a confused expression. “What are you implying Diluc? You know it’s part of my job to help other members as well.”

“Right, but I don’t recall you spending that much time with them before.”

“Seriously Luc? You’re acting like a child, just because he made one drunken joke-”

“I’ve seen drunk people and he was not one of them, he was legitimately trying to flirt with you and now you’re enabling his fixation.” He said, matter-of-factually.

He glared at you and you felt a pang of shock and anger course through your body.

“Oh really?! I was doing my job Diluc, you can’t expect me to shirk my responsibilities because you’re throwing a tantrum.” You threw your hands up in frustration, pacing around the room.

Diluc groaned in annoyance and walked towards you. “A tantrum? I have every right to question a man who tried to flirt with my partner.”

“Right, because you don’t trust me.” You turned to look at him, accusingly.

“I never said that!” He stared at you wide eyed and you let out a sardonic laugh.

“Well you might as well! Do you seriously think I would go behind your back-”

“Do not put words in my mouth Y/N.”

“-Flirting with someone else for some reason.” You continued, walking towards him.

“I would never-”

“How could you think so little of me?!”

“Will you just listen to be and be quiet for a minute?”

Diluc gently gripped your shoulders to stop you from moving, the two of you so close your noses could almost touch.

Shaking his hands off you glared at him in defiance.

“Why don’t you make me, Master Diluc.” You sneered at him, the words coming out before you could stop them.

Diluc stared at you, surprise apparent on his face.

Tension enveloped the room.

Neither of you said a word as you suddenly felt the temperature spike.

Diluc glanced down at your lips, and then at you, and before you could say anything else he pulled you into a fierce kiss, lips crashing into yours.

You gasped and gripped the collar of his coat, your hand gripping his hair.

Diluc pushed you against the wall, hands reaching down and pushing your shirt up, his knee pushing between your legs. You moaned, grinding against him as he kissed your collarbone.

However, before you could do anything more he pulled away.

You let out a disappointed huff.

“Diluc what are you…”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence as you felt yourself being pushed down on your knees. Diluc had quickly unbuckled his pants, his throbbing cock now in front of you.

“Wait- Diluc-”

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” He said, gripping your hair and pulling you towards his dick, a hint of dominance flashing in his eyes. “Now suck it.”

You gulped and nodded slowly, opening your mouth to lick the tip of his member before sucking.

Pressing your legs together to stop the heat from between them spreading, you continued sucking and gently licking his dick.

Diluc huffed and pulled you away.

“Diluc? Wha-mmggh!” You gagged as he shoved his dick into your mouth, thrusting into the back of your throat. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes, and Diluc chuckled.

“You wanted me to shut you up didn’t you? Where’s that challenging attitude from before?”

You gripped his thighs, and Diluc thrusted in further before pulling your hair and making you look up at him.

“Look at me, ngh- won’t you? This is how you properly suck your master’s dick alright? Mmph, yes, just like that. Be a good doll and take it all in.” He moaned.

You felt your jaw numb, tears rolling down from his size.

Before long Diluc groaned, almost reaching his climax. You tried to pull away but he pushed his cock, making you drink all of his seed.

He looked down at you, a smirk on his face. “Drink it all. Don’t let a single drop fall.”

You swallowed and fell back, coughing.

Still gasping for air, you let out a surprised gasp as you felt a pair of arms lift you up, pushing you against he doorway. You tried to turn around but Diluc kept you firmly in place.

“Are you really that wet just from sucking me off? So naughty~” he chuckled, pressing a finger against your sex. You moaned and tried to grind against him.

“Do you want to feel good?” He whispered, gently biting your earlobe.

You whimpered, nodding. “Please Diluc.”

He nodded and helped you take off your pants and already dripping panties.

Diluc rubbed your entrance with his finger, and you whined, needing him inside of you.

“Diluc.”

He lightly pressed his finger against you. “Address me correctly.” He ordered.

Your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. A determined and lustful expression filled his face.

You had to admit, you liked seeing him being so forward and taking charge. It made your skin prickle with heat, the way his eyes lidded and roamed around your body.

Taking a small breath you tried to get your voice to reply.

“M…master…” you whispered.

He raised a brow, an excited grin on his face. “Good.” He applied more pressure. “Now apologize.”

“A-apologize?” You repeated, voice still hoarse from before. “But-ngh!”

Diluc inserted a finger inside. However, he didn’t move.

“For talking to me that way before.” He pressed his finger inside you a bit. “For provoking me like that.” His lips caressed your neck, gently touching it. “Well?”

You huffed and closed your eyes, face heating up. “I…I’m sorry…”

He bit your shoulder. “For what?”

“I’m…I’m sorry for provoking you…master…’

“Good girl.”

You gasped as you felt him move his finger inside of you, quickly inserting another.

Diluc made sure to press all the right spots, making you moan out in pleasure.

“You’re so tight…” he whispered. “At least it means that bastard hasn’t touched you this way.”

“Aah! No, no just you…” you whimpered.

“Hm?”

“It’s just…just you Diluc…you’re the only one I want this way…”

“You…” Diluc’s face turned as red as his hair and he let out a nervous chuckle.

He pressed his cock against your wet entrance, unable to not be inside you anymore.

“Mr. Diluc?”

A voice called out.

You both stood still.

“Crap…” you whispered, turning to look at Diluc keeping an eye on the door. “Leon..”

The door was barely open. However if he walked in further inside you were sure he would catch you. “Diluc, if he comes in he’ll see-”

You barely finished talking before Diluc inserted his cock inside of you, making you gasp in pleasure.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He whispered. “Be quiet or else he’ll hear us.”

“But- wait- ngh!” You whimpered. Diluc roughly thrusted into you, his rough hands teasing your nipples.

“Sir?” The voice asked, the sound of footsteps coming closer.

“I’m alright, Leon.” Diluc called out, making the footsteps stop. “Did you…need something.” He hoped the boy didn’t notice the strain on his voice.

“Well…I finished cleaning up downstairs. Did Miss Y/N leave already?” Leon asked.

“Yes.” Diluc thrusted further inside you, hitting your deepest spots. “She just…left.”

You placed your hands on the wall, trying to keep your balance and accidentally grinding against him.

“Master Diluc…more” you moaned, moving your hips.

“Shit…” Diluc cursed, gripping your hips tightly and speeding up his pace.

“I can’t...I can’t, my voice, ah! Diluc, m-my voice…” you whispered.

Grunting, Diluc placed a finger inside your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds.

“Oh, well…if you have the rest taken care of then am I allowed to leave? Unless you need my help-”

“I do not Leon I-” he stopped as he felt you suck his finger, and squeezed your hips before he cleared his throat. “T-Thank you…you can go now.”

“Great! Goodnight sir!”

You heard the sound of footstep’s receding down the stairs, and as soon as you heard the front door close you felt Diluc’s hand move and you let out a scream of pleasure.

“Yes! Master, right there!” You gasped.

Diluc grunted and turned your head to kiss you, both of you separating only to moan or catch your breath.

“I love you…” he whispered.

You smiled.

“I…I love you too…I’m all yours Diluc…only yours…” you whimpered.

Diluc stopped, looking at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he bumped his forehead against yours. “I’m all yours as well my love….” he gently kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip, before moving again.

Eventually you both began to reach your peak.

Diluc placed a trail of kisses on your shoulder and began moving up towards your neck.

“I wonder…” he whispered between kisses, “I wonder what would happen if I were to leave a mark on your for the world to see…”

“Wh-what? Hold on, Diluc I still have work-anngh!” You whined, feeling Diluc suck on your neck until a hickey began to form.

He let go and stared at his handiwork with a proud expression, before biting your shoulder.

“Diluc!” You gasped.

He bit and sucked on every spot of your body- on your back, neck, shoulders, your wrist, and with every single place he made sure to leave a visible mark for everyone to see that he was yours, and you were his.

You whined and pulled on his hair, letting him know you were close.

Diluc turned you around for you to face him, moaning, feeling your walls clench around him in tightly, Diluc finished you off with a rough kiss, finally the two of you reaching climax.

He grabbed you and pulled you down on the floor with him, placing your head on his chest.

His body emitted warmth, and you cuddled closer to him.

“I can’t believe you almost let Leon see us.”

You eventually said, voice raspy from screaming.

“Hmph, he never comes inside the room unless I ask him to. If I knew we were going to be caught I wouldn’t have kept going.”

You scoffed and looked up at him before laying back down. “Ugh, still you- you’re lucky he didn’t come in.”

Diluc chuckled before burying his face into your hair. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone else see you like that, dear. It’s only a privilege I alone posses.”

You flushed at the words and cleared your throat. “Mmm, fine, you’re right.”

You both laid in a comfortable silence before you sat up and turned towards him, caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry I accused you of not trusting me. I know you were only worried. But believe me when I tell you I have things handled- the only person I want in my life is you.”

Diluc gently pulled you down and nuzzled your nose against his before smiling. “I understand. I apologize as well. I know you are more than capable of punching the life out of that miserable adventurer if he tries to do anything to you.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose.

You laughed and laid on top of him, sighing as he pet your hair. “Hmm true, I do throw a pretty mean punch. I’ll try not to work too late, alright? But you need to promise me the same.”

“Alright.”

“And don’t try to kill someone just because they hit on me. I can take care of that.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

“I mean, you don’t see me walking up to Donna and threatening her every time she mentions you right? Because-mmph, Diluc!” You scolded him as he turned you around and kissed you, smiling lovingly.

“Do you ever quiet down?” He teased.

You smirked. “Mmm no. Why don’t you try and make me again, pretty boy?”

It wasn’t before long that the two of you began round two.

Next day you chided him because you had to wear a coat over the sweltering heat, to cover every single mark he had given you.

Diluc only smiled proudly at the statement, but everyone else had thought you were either sick or had become mad for wearing such warm clothes during summer.

After Kaeya teased you for the upteenth time about your outfit, you made a mental note to get your revenge that night, as soon as you were done with your commissions.