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donotpush · 3 months

Text

Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

#birth kink #pregnancy #labor #birth denial #pregnancy fantasy #mpreg #fpreg #clothing birth #car birth #birt in car #trying to hold it in #stories

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hollisxwrites · 3 months

Note

heyy

i was wondering if u could write a percy jackson x reader ??

flowers in your hair

(percy jackson x child of apollo reader)

thank you for the request today guys! please keep requesting, i'll keep writing (lol)! thank you for all the love on "as long as i'm with you, hero"! again, please keep requesting, i'm loving doing these! see my introduction and who i write for here!

tv! percy jackson x child of apollo! reader (I think the reader remains gender neutral throughout the fic)!

i do not own this gif or the song!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mr. d is kinda an asshole, kinda a mention of violence, a few swear words, some slight angst and jealousy, percy is a sweetheart, a few mentions of the l word 🤯 (love), making out, possible innuendos, idk how to write warnings.

summary: based on the lumineers song flowers in your hair. percy and the reader fall in love over time spent together in camp halfblood, but they refuse to admit it in order to keep their precious friendship, until one day the reader finally cracks. this is on the longer side! sorry!

I was twelve years old when I first came to Camp Halfblood. I was scared, cold, and completely alone, running from a horrific monster that was something out of my worst nightmares. The cold pellets of rain showered over me as I ran, until suddenly, the monster wasn’t chasing me anymore, the rain stopped, and I was in the middle of a clearing, staring directly up at a house, a big, sky-blue house. It was beautiful, to say the least. Close to the house was what looked like a... volleyball court? Down the path a little, I could make out the shape of smaller houses built with Greek architecture. I was intrigued, but also frightened. Had I come across some cult? My hair was drenched and I’m sure my shirt was see-through due to the peltering rain, but when I thought about it, the rain had stopped when I got within feet of the house. Curious (and desperate for someone's help), I walked up to the door of the big blue house and knocked on it. Minutes seemed to tick by until suddenly, the door burst open and a man, about middle age, holding a set of poker cards, came to the doorway.

“What the hell do you want kid? Can’t you see I’m busy? You know Campers aren’t allowed out past nine P.M. Now I would suggest you get back to your cabin before I kick your...”

Suddenly, the scary man was pushed aside by an even scarier man, a man with a horse bottom-half and a man-top half. I blinked once, twice, three times, and the man was still a horse. “Mr. D! This is not one of our campers! I told you to be kind.” The horse-man said to who I guess was Mr. D. “Come on in, young one. It looks like you may be a new camper.”

Mr. D took me into the house and gave me a change of clothes, black pants and an almost nauseating orange colored shirt that said ‘Camp Halfblood’ on it. I was still interested in finding out what this was all about, but I was even more worried about my safety. These random scary men were taking me into their house in the middle of the woods after being chased by a scary monster. What else could go wrong? I was gestured to sit by the fireplace, and the horse-man explained everything to me. I was in disbelief. The gods of the Greek myths are real? I was only able to access this camp because I was one and I was in danger? My mother slept with a Greek god? My life, at this very moment, was altered forever. It finally made sense why my mother hated me. I was, not only, the result of her ‘dumb teenager decisions’, but I also was the result of her being with a god?

The horse-man, who I found out was named Chiron, after explaining everything to me, took me to one of the cabins I had noticed earlier, and he told me it was Herme’s cabin, which is where I would stay until my godly parent claimed me.

When I entered the cabin, most of the kids were asleep, because it was gods know what time of night, except two boys, one with dark curly hair and a scar running down is face who I assumed to be at least sixteen, and one with the prettiest blonde curls and green eyes that I have ever seen who seemed to be about my age. The boys were sitting on a window seat looking out to another large, Greek looking structure, discussing something that seemed to trouble the younger boy. Chiron called the two boys over, and they came to meet me. Chiron introduced the older boy as Luke Castellan, Herme’s cabin counselor, and the younger as Percy Jackson, another new camper who has only been here for a day. Percy and Luke shook my hand, and Chiron left them to help me navigate the cabin and find somewhere to sleep.

“Nice to meet you, {reader}. It’s not every day we get a new camper, but when we do, I am always excited to meet them!” Luke Castellan said. He scared me a little, with his scar, and his height. His overall demeanor was slightly frightening, but I liked him all the same. He seemed to be welcoming and kind enough.

I smiled at him, trying not to catch the eye of Percy, who seemed to be looking at me a lot. “Nice to meet you too.” I said in a monotone voice. I didn’t realize how tired I was until this moment. “I’m sorry, I’m so tired, getting chased down by a monster and finding out I’m some god hybrid thing that sends demons out to get me all within two hours. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

Percy giggled. “I know how you feel. I watched my mom get killed by the minotaur last night, and here I am, not able to sleep cause of the nightmares. I should get some sleep too.”

Luke glanced around the cabin. “I’m not sure where you’re going to sleep. All the cots are occupied, unless you want to sleep on the beanbag chairs over there.” He pointed to the pile of frumpy beanbag chairs in the corner of the cabin.

“No, no. They can take my bed. I doubt I’m going to sleep anyways, y’know, nightmares and all.” Percy chimed in, probably noticing my disparity to sleeping on an uncomfortable looking beanbag chair.

I shook my head. “No way. You were here before me. It’s okay, I can take the beanbags, you take your space. I hope my dad claims me before too long, so I can take a couple nights.”

“I’m not letting you; you look too tired.” Percy said, in a voice that sounded almost threatening. “We can switch out if we’re both here for a while. I mean...if you want to.”

I smiled at the boy. He seemed kinder than anyone else I knew, even though that wasn’t saying much. I didn’t know many people. I did take Percy’s bed that night, and that developed our friendship that would eventually become the most invaluable thing in my life. I sat with Percy at every meal, he showed me around the camp to the best of his ability, and we decided to train together, as we were both new outcasts to the camp. Even after he was chosen to go to the Poseidon cabin through the game capture the flag, and I was chosen by father to go to the Apollo cabin, our bond only grew closer, and we still managed to find time in our busy schedules to spend time with each other.

One day, several months later, in these rare moments we were both free, I was lying on the ground in the strawberry fields that became my favorite part of the camp with Percy. We had a long day of training and decided to bask in the warmth of the camp, savoring the warm late summer days. I was picking dandelions out of the strawberries and weaving them together the way I used to do with my older sister. I was slowly making a crown out the buds, and it was turning out quite beautiful. It kept my easily distracted mind focused on what Percy was saying. He was going off on some tangent about Grover and his disloyalty to the camp and to Mr. D, something that Percy found alarming, as he was worried about his best friend’s safety.

“I’m just glad I have you, {reader}. You really have been a good...friend all these months at camp.” Percy said, grinning at me through the strawberry bushes.

My eyes twinkled when mine met his, and I placed the now completed dandelion crown in his blond curls that drew me to him the moment we met. “I’m glad I have you too, Perc. You made me feel a little less crazy.”

He smiled at me, the dandelion crown slipping down his face. “You’ll always be in my heart.” He blushed a little, as we are not usually this compassionate for each other.

“So will you!” I said, moving to put the flower crown back on the crown of his head. My fingers tingled under the small touch to his face, but I didn’t realize that it was love, at the time, at least I didn’t realize it was romantic love. That’s something I know too well now.

...

Five years later, Percy and I have not grown farther apart with age, we’ve grown closer. He saved the world, and I was always by his side through everything. He only grew more beautiful with age, too, his hair growing a little longer, eyes getting a little darker, scars from battles littered his arms, legs, and chest. He was always attractive to me, but now, it was even more so. He had also grown more physically affectionate towards me, brushing my hands with his, leaning on my shoulder during campfires, and even going as far to giving me kisses on the cheek when I saw him first thing in the morning and late at night when we left for the day. Sometimes, he snuck into my cabin or I into his if we had nightmares just so we could be with each other. His smell of sea salt and something else I couldn’t quite name (probably the blue candy that he ate daily), and it always comforted me during hard nights.

All of this to say, though, we were just BFFs. Best platonic bros. Nothing more, nothing less. I loved him, I had realized over the years, loved him a little too much it was unbearable sometimes, but he was rumored to be with other people all the time, even though I knew he wasn’t. He would tell me, right? Right? He spent pretty much every waking minute with me and every minute asleep most of the time, too, so I would know. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t jealous of every person he came across. I loved him, and he was my sea boy, and I was his sunshine.

That’s why, when we found ourselves in a very similar predicament to what we did all those years ago, during our first couple months at camp, I made a very risky move.

I was sitting, face angled up to the sunlight, weaving a dandelion crown in my trembling hands. Percy had grown, so the flower crowns I made him now were twice the size of the ones I made him all those years ago. I delicately made a pattern with the dandelions again, and I looked up at Percy from time to time to nod or make a comment on whatever he had to say, but it was mostly silent, him humming and picking at the ground below us, and me, weaving my crown.

Percy paused his picking at the ground and looked at me. I could feel his gaze on my face, and it made my cheeks heat up. I prayed to the gods that he thought it was just from the sun. “Do you remember when we did this, what, five years ago now? I would say we’ve grown a little, and we know more than we did then.”

“What do you know now that you didn’t then?” I said, eyes not leaving the project in my hands.

I assumed he shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I know more about the gods, about the world, about you.”

Laughing, I finally tore my eyes away from the completed crown and I moved to place it on Percy’s head, settling it gently in his curls, careful not to mess up my handiwork. I let my fingers linger longer on his face than I did last time. “You know more about me, sea boy?” I asked him teasingly, finally meeting his eye that hasn’t left my face this entire time.

“I guess I do, I mean, I feel like I do. I feel like I’ve barely spent a minute away from you since that day.” He leaned into my hand that was placing feather-like touches on his face. “I mean, I know that your favorite color is yellow, you love the same music I do, and you hate when I call you sunshine.”

“You do know me, don’t you, Perc?” My hands dropped away from his face, and he pouted at the loss of contact even though our legs were centimeters from touching. I could feel electricity buzzing on my skin where our limbs were about to meet. That was something I always felt when I was close to him. I always assumed, back then, that his love language was physical touch, and so he was just being a good friend by how affectionate he was to me. How delusional I was.

“I sure do.” He flipped his body so that he was no longer facing me, instead he laid himself down on my lap. My hands instinctively went to his pretty hair, making sure to be mindful of his crown. “Y’know, I think I love you, {reader}.”

My heart, in this moment skipped a beat, but then shattered at the same time. He loved me, but in a friendly way. “You don’t mean that, Perc. At least, you don’t mean that the way I want you to.”

His head shot up from my lap, nearly slinging his flower crown from his head, and he turned back to face me at an alarmingly quick rate. “What do you mean, the way you want me to?” His hands met mine that were laying in my lap. He interlaced our fingers, and my entire body felt alive.

I blushed and looked back up to the boy I have loved since we were pre-teens. “I love you, Perc, but I love you, like in a romantic way. I hope it’s not too late, cause you’re so damn attractive. You have always been to me, always will be. I think I’ve just been scared. I value you so much as a friend that I didn’t want to lose you.” I refused to look up from our intertwined hands, embarrassed and saddened by my confession. I was half expecting Percy to scoff and walk away, kicking pebbles up at me.

Instead, he unclasped our hands and pulled my face up to look at him, his eyes shining in a way that I’ve never seen them shine before, his face glowing with a humongous grin. “I never thought you’d say that. You know that I have loved you all this time, too?”

My heart skipped several beats this time. I’m not kidding; I was about to go into cardiac arrest. “Are you kidding? You’re pranking me right now.” I hid my burning face on his shoulder.

His laugh vibrated underneath me, making me giggle, too. “I guess we’re both idiots.”

I hesitantly pulled my face off his shoulder and asked him the scariest question I have ever asked someone. “Can I kiss you?”

Our faces were inches apart when he whispered, “I thought you’d never ask.” The kiss was everything I could have ever asked for. At first it was gentle and loving, our noses bumping into each other, until eventually my hands found his hair and his found my waist. It was warm, and passionate, and everything I could’ve dreamt of.

He slowly pulled away from me, both of us panting, foreheads touching. “That was...perfect.”

I smiled. “Just like you, sea boy.”

His face met my neck now, and he pressed warm kisses to my exposed skin, his hair tickling my jawline. I squirmed under him, trying to suppress a groan. He lifted his head up, his eyes met mine. I thought he never had looked better. The flower crown I made him was lopsided now, diagonal across his head, his lips were red and bitten, his face was perfectly flushed, and his pupils were blown out. “How did I get so lucky?” He said to me.

“I am asking myself the same damn thing.” I smiled, keeping eye contact with him. He connected our lips once again, and that’s when I knew I was a goner. I had been all those years ago, but we have grown a lot since then. Percy being in my eyes and in my heart all the time harbored the feeling that I have been carrying, and now I get to express.

Years from now, I hope he still gets to be in my heart, and I in his.

#percy jackson show #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson angst #percy jackson x child of apollo! reader #percy jackson imagine #song based fic!

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

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[The results of the poll came in, thenk you for voting! :]. Fem reader. You live in a house for this one. Sorry for the wait, it got longer than anticipated (4.7k).]

TW: Dubious consent (reader is somewhat scared); Altered states of mind; Heat/Rut.

It's the fifth time you've been dumped into this rat's nest today.

Breg is in heat, or rather, the earlier days of such.

You knew trouble was coming when you found the breeder laying on the kitchen tiles this morning, an overheated and overly sweaty body trying desperately to cool itself on freezing ceramic. He had panted like a dog under the blaze of a Summer evening and barely noticed your presence before excusing himself to make undignified noises in the bathroom. Showering, arguing with himself, jerking off? You didn't know, and you didn't care- You just wanted to eat something before any of this madness really kickstarted.

As you shoved toast in your mouth, slowly but definitely not calmly, you got to see the monster stress himself out, walking between rooms with various items in hand. It was almost funny, if you didn't know exactly what was coming. When his rut starts, Breg always behaves like a bear who forgot to stock food before hibernating. Oh but he didn't forget anything, the cabinets are full, and he learned to buy instant meals for you after the first couple of heats where you tried to explain to his fried brain that you can't just eat dead animals he plops in front of you. Nonetheless, you got to see him strip the couch of its cushions, struggle with dragging your mattress into a corner, fetching all the spare sheets, coats, towels and blankets he could find- For fuck's sake, he ripped the curtains off this time.

All to make a padded, crowded mess of your bedroom. It's always the bedroom with him, it smells like the two of you, so it does make sense, you bitterly suppose... You'd rather this than the uncomfortable bathroom.

You barely got to finish your coffee before a clammy, darkened hand had grasped your arm and you were not so gently tugged into the bedroom, to "evaluate" the mess your eccentric (putting it criminally lightly) boyfriend had made. Having gone through the motions of this charade more than once, you already knew the correct steps to make sure everything went well. Turning towards the muddled breeder, you kissed him and complimented his skills, calling the crime against your sanity he had just committed beautiful before physically stepping into it and sitting down.

Predictably, Breg let out an elated trill from deep within his throat and forced you to lie down, tangling you in a mess of warm fabrics before slotting himself above you protectively. Heavy as he is, the monster's weight was crushing, although you managed to nudge him aside when he dozed off above you. In this phase of his rut, you're not really sure if he's going to try to fuck you or just hold you and fall asleep, so there's some leeway to roam if you're sneaky about it.

It was when you were trapped under the monster's cocoon, sweating yourself into an early grave, that the doorbell rang and you realized something horrific.

You have a package outside.

God fucking damn it.

You were usually so careful with timing things perfectly, having the days where Breg was likely to start a heat jotted down in bright red ink on your calendar so that you'd never make plans for those days. You went as far as to orient a lot of your work life around his cycle, which is annoying, but at the very least possible. To think you were stupid enough to order something and not even care to check the estimated delivery date is pathetic. Maybe you did see it- But it didn't click in your brain what those days were.

Well shit, you had thought at the time, I can't just let it sit there.

And you were right. It was an expensive purchase. Brand new equipment, high-value tech for one of your favorite hobbies. It had been a costly sacrifice, and the specs were a rare find. The package itself isn't small enough to pass by unnoticed, you know one of your scummy neighbors can see if it they look twice at your doorstep. It could be stolen! It will be, if you don't fetch it eventually.

You had tried to stay still, knowing the monster in heat wouldn't take kindly to any perceived "escape attempts", but it was nerve-wracking. You're sure that package will be taken away if you don't get it fast. You can't lose it, can't lose all that money, that effort.

Your first attempt was a blunder, having moved too fast and woken Breg before you could even make it out the bedroom. By the second, you simply got unlucky and he woke by himself, fetching you back in a panic. On the third, you could spot signs of irritation, having been tossed to the nest none too gently and snarled at, fondled and groped and ground at until he had successfully put a gross mark on you. You'll admit the fourth incident was more of an attempt to get his musk off you than a dash for the package, but it got you barked at nonetheless, caught by the living room while Breg tried to slur out warnings, shaking you, hand around your neck while you were lead back into the bedroom. You know you hit a nerve with the fifth because his face disfigured for a moment.

But you can't give up.

This is too important to you. He can't understand it, but you need that fucking thing inside your home.

That's why you're up again, having weaseled out of his clumsy trap of coats. It's impressive he was coherent enough to use the sleeves to tie knots around you, but that's about where his expertise ends in this precarious state. You've played it safer this time, letting the breeder calm down, letting him tongue-bathe you -Gross- Feed you, let him fuck your thighs even. All just so his hormonal brain can forget you even tried to step out the nest. He's sleeping soundly, but you go through the effort of putting a shirt you recently wore next to the monster, hopefully to keep him lulled.

Breg shifts in his sleep, picking up on the scent and making weird murmurs before clutching at the fabric- As if it were you there. Almost cute, if not for the fact that you're really stressed.

Instead of walking across the house, you crawl, slow and measured to make sure not even the sound of your breathing could rise Breg. There's furniture askew, remotes and decorations on the floor from the previous times he fetched you in a hurry. Although you do your best to muffle your nerves, your arms shake with anxiety. Anything could make him stir awake, you can't ever run away from him, he could hurt you.

Perhaps it's because you're sheltered, or maybe you have too much faith in the breeder, you could just be stupid- But you weigh those odds against the pain of losing your expensive purchase and, in the end, decided you'd sooner twist an ankle than let it get stolen by a filthy porch pirate.

Reaching the front door is a milestone you smile brightly at. The problem comes when you glance at the keys. They'll jingle if you're not careful, the front door thankfully never creaks, but you know for a fact it makes a distinct click when it unlocks. Kneeling, arm outstretched, fingertips almost grazing the keys, you hesitate.

Should you...?

Maybe you should head back. Pretend you never left, snuggle up to him and just give it up for today. But then, this is only just the beginning, his instincts are only going to get worse from here on out. If you can't reach the package today, then it's pointless to even try your luck the following days! Right, this is no time to falter, you need to get it now.

With newfound resolve, an inkling of it at least, you hold the keys with both hands. One to make sure the others don't clink and clank, the other doing the actual turning. Slow like molasses, calculated, even the way you inhale and exhale is measured. On the last turn, you apply pressure and keep the grip on the key as firm as you can, trying to nudge the lock open gently enough to avoid that telltale click. Sucess! Soundlessly, you feel the door move, fully unlocked.

Yes!

The hardest part is over. Removing the keys from the door, you take great care when depositing them on the carpet. Specifically the carpet, to muffle any sort of faint jingling.

The weather outside is nice, but you're too preoccupied to consider something as simple as that. No, your eyes are locked onto your prize. There, only a couple of feet away, your package! Untouched, neatly arranged, perfectly fine as it should be. You nearly cry in relief, crawling outside, beyond caring if any of your neighbors see you like this- A disheveled, stinky mess wearing only a top and casual shorts on all fours.

When your hands wrap around the cardboard, it feels as if all is well in the world. You made it. You secured your purchase. You don't have to worry about anything else anymore, you can just head inside and-

VROOM

A car zooms past the street. You hear it before you see it pass. At first, you don't even think about it. After all, what could be meaningful about a stranger driving by in a hurry, right?

And then you realize your "boyfriend" is in a hypersensitive state with notoriously augmented hearing.

Ah.

Once more, you hear it before you see it.

A jarring thump thump thump THUMP. And a shiver crawls up your spine hard enough to make you freeze. Oh God. Clutching the stupid cardboard box like a lifeline, you glance upwards, towards the doorway, seeing none other than who you dread the most right now. Breg.

He's positively fuming. You're surprised there isn't literal steam coming off his body. Hunched, tense, but it's not the size of him that scares you. It's his face. His distorted, stretched out maw- Fully extended, gums visible, pushing those horrid teeth outward as he drools on the ground. You know, in spite of his lack of visible eyes, that Breg is glaring daggers at you, specifically.

A steady hissing fills your ears and you know it's over. You know you fucked up- Not directly, but you did. Because you left the door wide open and didn't account for the noise. You're a fool. The first thing your instincts tell you to do is rise and prepare to sprint, but the moment you sit straighter, Breg releases a chilling snarl, so you opt to fold further into yourself and remain utterly catatonic. Can he understand you still, through the haze of hormones? Would he grasp it if you apologized? Should you speak at all?

The choice is made for you.

You close your eyes the moment the ground shakes with his sprinting, choking on the collar of your shirt as you're physically dragged by it and picked up by the breeder. Where before Breg's hold had been more protective than anything, it's now oppressive, squeezing you to his chest, claws denting your meat. The proximity allows you to feel the bizarre bumps on his raised skin, frigid, yet coated by steaming sweat drops. You don't open your eyes until you're airborne for a very short period, falling face-first on the musk-heavy nest.

Breg slams the door to the bedroom shut and pants harshly, landing a fist to the wall several times. Each pound makes you jump and tense, huddling into yourself with tears in your eyes. Oh God what if he's had enough? What if he does that to you?! He makes an ambiguous roar and seems to slam his own head on the wall, but it doesn't crack or chip the infrastructure like his hand did.

You wonder if he's giving himself a concussion on purpose, for your sake.

" B-Breg? " Scared, gawking eyes plead with the breeder stationed at the wall. You note the attempts he makes at steadying his breathing, fruitless, as his chest continues to heave dramatically. What the fuck is happening anymore.

" Whah... "

Oh. He's trying to speak. Usually, he can still do it in the first day or so, this looks like it's an especially intense rut, because of course it is. That's just your amazing luck shining through. You wait patiently for the monster to come up with something in between his slurring mumbles.

" What isss wrong with you?! "

" H- Huh? " His words and voice are distorted by the shape of his extended jaw, shifting his mouth and tongue to make the proper sounds of the language you both speak becomes a challenge.

" WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! " Breg bellows, turning around to face you properly. You resist the urge to crawl under the the mess of sheets and clothes.

" I- I just wanted to get the package. " You try, voice light and tone pleading, searching his face for any sort of recognition -A miracle epiphany that doesn't seem to be surfacing any moment soon- and finding nothing but growing confusion. Irritation.

" NO! " He shrieks, gesturing wildly as if you're the one missing an obvious point. " OUTSIDE. "

" Don't- Don't scream at me... "

He rolls his head, looking away, then back. " Outside- " He hisses, quieter at least. " Don't. Go. Out. "

It would just take one second. One second to get that box in and it would be over. Is it really that big of a sin? Breg starts moving upsettingly fast towards you, when an arm shoots out, you do what you usually have to when he's deep into his rut. Belly up, hands back, legs spread and neck bared. Good ol' trusty "please don't kill me".

It works.

The breeder's motions halt altogether and he seems to stare at you vapidly for a couple of static seconds. His jaw retracts a chunk, but his maw is still stretched, still that haunting grin. Good, he's distracted.

" ... You know you can't... Go outside. " He drools, to which you nod frantically. " Here is safe... Here is... "

You get to see the exact moment when hormones kill off just about any higher thought process in Breg. The monster shakes his head and crawls atop you, looking mildly bothered by the amount of clothes on your figure before lifting the hem of your shirt and burying his head underneath. Surprised, you can only giggle incredulously, feeling his humid hot breath fanning your stomach and chest. The breeder replies with an instinctual chirp and his breathing finally begins slowing down.

There, you think while slowly stroking his gross back, he's going to settle down, maybe hump a little and then fall asleep. Fool.

The monster stirs after a couple of comfortable moments, muttering something incoherent. He stands much too quickly and begins tugging you up as well, expression creased with what you think might be worry.

" What- What are you doing? " His grip on your wrist is uncomfortable when he starts walking out of the bedroom.

He spends his entire ruts making sure you stay in this room, now he's pulling you out? Geez, how many brain cells did he fry this time?

He only starts speaking after you tap him a couple of times. " Need to move! " He hisses, like you're particularly dumb. " ... Another cave. "

Cave...? Oh, the house. Yes.

You try to stand your ground, but given he's holding onto such a delicate part of you, it's not a good idea to pull. If he dislocates or fractures your wrist while in heat, there's no telling when you'd be able to reach a hospital- You can't risk that damage.

" But what's wrong with this one? " Really, you don't see what's wrong about the house for him to be fussing. You only have a couple of night lights on, the place is warm, there's food, he made his nest, what's missing? Is he getting pickier for no reason now?

" Not safe enough! " You're led to the living room while Breg has his weird freak out fit, glancing at the front door.

He must have shut it as he dragged you in, at least that. Unfortunately, your delivery remains outside. Though, in hindsight, if anyone saw that little stunt between you and the irate breeder, there's a pretty good chance they won't be ballsy enough to come fetch it. You certainly wouldn't be.

When it seems the rutting monster is determined to actually go outside, you start offering minimal resistance. Anything could happen with Breg in that state out and about, he could maim someone, he could force you to God knows where, he could fuck you in the streets openly- The scandal would follow you forever. A thousand yard stare settles on your face.

" B- But I think it is? " You have no cards to play with when dealing with a monster in rut. How can you logically counter his points when he's not thinking logically at all?

" NO. " Finally, he releases your wrist, now pacing restlessly, claws dragging over his own arms. He's clearly distressed and angered, but you don't know how to calm him without seemingly making it worse.

" YOU'LL RUN. " The breeder pauses to snarl pointedly in your direction, returning to barely coherent mumbling and frantic pacing shortly after.

Ah. So that's why he thinks it's not safe. Granted, you know damn well you put yourself in this spot. Now you'll have to weasel out of it.

" I- I won't. " Your shaky, tiny voice is extremely convincing, surely. " I p-promise! It- It's alright. "

Breg stops clawing at his arms, mumbling halted, his pacing ends with the monster right in front of you. His looming, tense figure has you fixed on the spot like an ant. Part of you wants to start bawling for help, another desperately wishes to reach out and soothe him.

" You- You liar... " He seethes, glancing between you and the door as you sweat bullets. " You WILL run! I know you will! YOU'LL LEAVE ME- "

His volume startles you again, beneath the anger he's showing, beneath those drooling teeth waaay too close to your face, there's genuine panic in his tone. Almost wheezing for a second. You're momentarily reminded that it's not just you who's at peril here. When Breg gets really aggravated, the way his metabolism kicks up several notches has consequences for him as well. This isn't good for anyone, and in your blindsided excitement about your purchase, you completely forgot that your failed attempts have only been stressing his already overloaded organism out more. Suddenly, a wave of guilt crushes your spirit.

There's not much time to wallow in it, because you're being grabbed. The lack of reaction must have upset the breeder, who's darkened arms clutch your own. " YOU'LL LEAVE. I can't let you leave- Can't let you go- Mates can't escape- YOU NEED ME. " Each rise in intensity has him jostling you back and forth.

Ooh boy, this is not looking good.

You consider opening your mouth to say something, try to appease him by whatever means necessary, but given all of your attempts have failed so far, what's the use? There's got to be another way...

...

"You need me"... Hm, maybe it's not so hopeless.

Keeping your gaze focused on the breeder, you know trying to slip away from his grasp is useless, but your intent is to reach down enough to grasp the hem of your shorts, quietly shimmying the cloth down. At first, the breeder doesn't realize why you're squirming, growling in warning at your perceived attitude, until he has the wit to glance towards the movement, watching you drop the fabric to your ankles and step out of it. His gaze is wholly fixated on your pussylips, a string of drool oozing from the side of his face to the floor. This secret smirk spreads on your face at the state you have him in, feeling mildly flattered even if you know how volatile he is right now.

In an effort to distract the male just a bit more, you part your legs a little, hearing him very clearly snort grossly, inhaling. His grip lessens ever so slightly, and you take advantage of it to start edging your now tattered shirt off. He barely twitches when his arms drop, squatting on the ground like some frog as he edges closer to your pussy, about to stuff his face on it most likely. His members steadily poke out that engorged slit, already soaked in their own precum, more than ready for anything.

Summoning all the bravery you have to stick to your possibly not very bright plan, you tense on the spot, allowing him but one second of calm, before hauling ass. Your goal is not the outside, not at all, you're actually sprinting the way you came from, teeth grit with nerves.

Predictably, it's a very short dash, Breg darted after you not even a second later, hot on your tail enough to physically crash against you on the way inside the bedroom and effectively throwing you onto the nest. You're getting really tired of landing face-down on this thing... But it's exactly what you wanted. Because when the breeder looms over you, hips instinctively slotted against yours, his hand keeping your head still, you get to turn things on their head before he can bark at you.

Quickly, you bump your bare ass against his cocks, making sure to grind and sway like you're the one in heat. You can feel the startling temperature of them on your skin, spreading their slick and his scent on you in a way that makes shivers ripple through you. The movement apparently startles Breg's already muddled brain into stillness again, you can tell he's probably very confused, ping-ponging between irritation and delight.

" Hah, guess you caught me again... " You bullshit, arching your spine beneath the monster as much as you can and bumping harder against him. Breg shudders. " So, will you do something about it this time, or do I have to keep running until my mate fucks me hard? "

Please buy it please buy it holy shit-

There's a chuff above you, you're positive he understood the words perfectly when he makes an excited crooning trill that tapers off into a chirp. He pushes his dicks onto you in response and you know it worked flawlessly the moment he dips to lick from your neck upwards. Good, this is good. Not optimal, but better than getting tossed outside.

The key to making him forget about your stunts is to convince the breeder it was all a sort of "challenge", and to do such, you'll have to keep up this attitude. Sloppy rutting turns into pushing yourself onto him when Breg poorly lines one of his dribbling cocks against your pussy. Having been through this song and dance before, you don't let him get any ideas regarding his twin length, awkwardly reaching beneath you to grasp and gently stroke at whatever parts you could reach.

He's thrilled, but your taste of control is short-lived as soon as he can sheathe himself inside you. It's a stretch, lord knows it always is with him, but he's excited this time, ramming himself. If he wasn't leaking lubrication like a broken faucet, you probably would have gotten hurt. As is, you only scream in surprise, fisting the sheets and ripped curtains beneath you. He moans, low and loud, a cry of pure animal relief. And, perhaps to your chagrin, fulfills your request.

" Hhrk-! "

Not a single second of mercy is spared your way. Breg doesn't care to build you up, his goal is one thing and one thing only, to fuck his cocktease of a mate full of his hatchlings, a fruitless effort. Not that it's ever stopped him from trying, you often get the feeling he desperately thinks he can will a pregnancy into existence, even outside of heat.

The monster on top of you is fast and ruthless, all self-serving thrusts kissing deep into your cunt while his spare cock twitches and occasionally slaps against your mound. It's a far cry from how he usually behaves, obviously, but the novelty of getting the breath quite literally fucked out of you never seems to wear off. Thighs shaking, you can't muster the composure to buck against him very aptly, body wracked with intense waves of pleasurable heat every time the somewhat more pronounced ridges of his fattened girth drag on that spot -Oh, that little spot- That has you sobbing soundlessly. In reality, Breg isn't making any efforts to offer you much, if any, pleasure, but it'd be impossible not to brush against something nice every now and then with this pace. Being used like a favored, dirty little cocksock, all you can do is grit your teeth and try not to drool as much as the monster making a puddle of your neck and hair.

Apparently, Breg begins to get annoyed by the way you'll bounce forward a little too far for his tastes, rumbling. It's really not your fault there's so much horsepower behind those legs, but you'll admit you don't like getting delicious friction disrupted too much either. The monster readjusts, an arm snakes beneath to grab your neck, grip firm but not squeezing, the other captures your right hand under his, your thighs are nudged closer together to trap his unattended dick and finally- Bold teeth latch onto the skin on the back of your neck.

He's done this before, in controlled settings however. You don't think it's a particularly good idea to let Breg's currently sharpened teeth around your neck for long periods of time, so really, the faster he cums, the less danger you're in. It's difficult to think about much of anything when the rutting breeder's pace resumes, this time not as deep but fast enough to make your vision blur, the smack of skin on skin and frantic shared panting putting you in a trance. God, he fucking stinks like this, you can't escape the smell, ever, it's on you now. He growls and occasionally clips out short moans in response to your helpless flexing around his wet cock, surprising you with another chirp.

Ah, precisely. There's something you can use!

Knowing full well you've never been good at it, you cough to clear your throat before attempting, quite poorly, to imitate the sound. You do it twice for good measure, immediately rewarded with an enthusiastic, hard grind that lifts you ever so slightly off the nest while Breg makes a keening sound that melts into a more complex trill. Your eyes roll and you feel yourself cumming hard around him, grunting at the sudden pleasure. Fuck, how do you make that one? He clearly loves it, you have to at least try. Drunk on the afterglow of your orgasm, you let out a series of vaguely similar whistling clicks, not really sure what you're transmitting to the breeder, or caring really.

The monster's hold of your neck tightens enough to make you wince, though the vibrations of his muffled moaning are shamefully arousing as his next series of hard pounds nearly jostle the few contents of your stomach. You know he's cumming when claws dart to hold your hips perfectly still and his head drops on yours, braying out a shameless noise that devolves into harsh puffing and gasping. Naturally, the cock nestled between your now sticky thighs coats your front and the sheets in a stupid amount of pearly cum, making you whine at the feeling while your womb tries to accommodate as much of the other's load as possible- What it inevitably fails to hold having no choice but to ooze and squeeze out, dripping to your front as well.

Long moments pass, though the shaking of your legs only grows, causing Breg to flip you both on your sides before he ends up crushing you. it's gross, you're laying on a small pool of warm seed while he plugs you happily, glancing up to see him smile happily at you through the haze of hormones. Contented and calm, the ideal state. You don't struggle or react much when the male predictably reaches to start tongue-bathing your upper body, merely grimacing at the scent of excess saliva.

Just to make sure things are even and smoothed out between you, you turn slightly, placing a peck on that long neck and chastely licking him back. There's no way you're going to groom him in this gross state, but it appears to be rewarding enough, his tail swatting around violently.

" ... Angel. " He mumbles, head nuzzling yours lazily. " My angel... "

Crisis averted.

#Bregory #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 4 months

Text

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is finally Y/N's turn to walk down the aisle. Sherlock can't keep his eyes off of her. She is certain that the man waiting at the alter is the one she will spend the rest of her life with. Is he?

wedding fluff and angst

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Sherlock stood at the alter, hands clasped behind his back. To the wedding guests, his sharp stance would suggest ease. In truth, each deep breath he chased was laboured and unsure.

She was a vision in white. Precious in deep sheets of ivory.

Sherlock had never seen such perfection.

Y/N took measured steps down the aisle in time to the music's pace. A few steps further and the bride would become somebody's wife.

Sherlock promised himself he would not cry today. Not one tear, he swore. He was better than that. Still, as Y/N drew closer, step by step, he wasn't certain he could keep a dry eye.

He considered turning away or focusing on the flower arrangements set behind her shoulder. Anything to keep the strain in his chest at bay.

It was in that moment of deliberation that Y/N chose to wink at him. A small gesture, hardly visible behind her veil but even so, he caught it.

Propping his shoulders back, he chose to keep looking. Better to face the music than miss a flutter of her lashes or the quiver of her lip when she smiled.

Though his throat felt constricted and his chest heaved for breath, Sherlock Holmes could not turn away from the bride.

He registered John shoot him a grin from the left. He wasn't sure that he returned it.

"She's beautiful," John said in a hushed tone.

"She's beautiful," Sherlock repeated.

Three years earlier, Sherlock had met Y/N for the first time. Since then, she had stumbled through the flat each day, always with a shy smile and a soft spoken, "hello".

He loved her from the start.

Their highs and lows, they would experience together. When she threw her head back in laugher, teeth gleaming at something her lover said, Sherlock would see it. He often revealed his experiments to her, if only to see the wonder shine in her eyes.

Even after every lover's spat, Sherlock would wrap his arms around her and swear that things would look brighter in time.

He was right. By God, he was right. He had to be, for now, she stood just steps away from him, at the alter, incandescently happy in her wedding gown.

A slow tear trailed down Sherlock's cheek.

Y/N finally reached him and there was silence in the cathedral when the music at last, had died.

"You're crying," she said.

Sherlock choked out a laugh that hurt his head. "I'm not," he replied. He tightened his lips together to ease the line of worry that had suddenly appeared on Y/N's brow.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. Closing his eyes, Sherlock shifted her veil aside. His hand trembled as he pushed it just far enough to kiss her cheek.

Though he gave her the softest of kisses, he felt a sharp stab in his heart, as arduous as the touch of his lips on her skin was brief.

He dropped her veil again and opened his eyes. "Every happiness," he said to her. His gaze steeled into her own. He hoped she wouldn't understand but she did.

Y/N nodded and her veil rustled. "Every happiness," she said back to him.

Sherlock clenched his jaw and feigned a smile for the wedding guests that stared from the pews. Then, he took Y/N's hand in his own and walked with her for three final steps.

John waited beside the priest.

Sherlock presented the groom with his bride and took his position as best man.

He was good at that, after all; standing on the outside, looking in. It's how he captured so many of his friends' most private moments in the small space of 221B.

Throughout the ceremony, the words, "every happiness" rang in Sherlock's mind.

When John and Y/N shared their first kiss as man and wife, Sherlock clapped along with the others but still, "every happiness" lingered at the tip of his tongue.

He simply couldn't manage to add the words, "I wish you..." at the start.

Things would be brighter in time, he told himself.

He knew it was a lie but for now, he clapped.

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I'm crying. I have reposted this thing like, 10 times. Last time, I swear. omg. please work. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.

Thank you for your patience, literally everybody I'm tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @aephereal @andthevillainshallrises @baby-bloos @cookiemumster1 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @bogginsreadings @lumosouls @spencerrxids @serenity-lattes @msseijii @classickook @starstruck-loner @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @lucywrites02 @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @antsn @kabubsmagga @newtsniffles @cemak @liv-olive-oliver @iamtrash-withrespect @asgards-princess-of-mischief

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atalentedwriter · 10 months

Text

— snooze and miss the moment

paring: e-42!miles x fem!reader

a/n: i don't speak spanish i'm sorry but i used the most accurate translator i could find. if i made ANY mistakes, feel free to hmu and tell me i will certainly change em. also didn't like forgive me so i deleted it lol sorry forgive me (get it 🤭)

taglist: @looorelaaaiii

sypnosis: in which the reader and miles take a day to unwind from the stress of day to day life and his secret alter ego as the prowler.

wordcount: 2,103 words and 10,898 characters

genre: fluff, teenagers, romance, slightly suggestive but not really, established relationship

translations: "they can't hear you" - "no te oyen" "hey" - "hola" "you shouldn't have" - "no deberías tener" "whatever you say" - "lo que tú digas" "you've got the loveliest voice" - "tienes la voz más hermosa" "my love" - "mi amor" "my life" - "mi vida"

"Don't go in there girl, you know the killer is ALWAYS in the cabin!" You scream at the tv and Miles has to put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. You two were watching a horror movie and the characters were pissing you off with their stupid decisions.

"Damn mami chill out, no te oyen." He said with a chuckle and smile before turning back to the tv as you sunk into his arms on the couch.

It was a late night and you two were in your bedroom which had a bed and desk on the right with a tv and couch across from it. It was a stress-relief night- that's what you called it at least. You had these once a month or whenever miles' busy schedule doing God knows what clears up.

Prepping for tonight was the most exciting thing to happen today. You bought new matching pajamas for both of you, hello kitty for him and kuromi for you. You spent HOURS perfecting stitch braids on your braiding doll so you could try it on Miles. You also created a slow playlist for both of you, one of the songs being "Snooze" by SZA. Miles put you on, it was the song he played for you on your first date and it immediately became your song.

You had also bought facemasks and extra nail polish, as well as a bunch of snacks and more.

Miles arrived at your door at 9PM when both of your parents were to be out the house for date night.

"Hola mami." Miles cupped your face to give you a small kiss on your lips, you had to pull apart before he turned it into a makeout session. "What?"

"You'll get your kisses Miles, but for I prepared a lot of stuff to do, come." You urged him into the house and shut the door, locking it as he noticed the matching pajamas on the couch.

"For me? Oh mami no deberías tener." Miles picks up his pants and walks over to you to give you another kiss but you swerve him.

"Bathroom, go change." You say as he rolls his eyes jokingly, walking over to the bathroom to change. You grab your stuff and head to your room, changing into your kuromi pants as well. Once you were done, you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in."

Miles steps in, wearing his hello kitty pants and the same green hoodie from earlier, folded sweatpants in his hands. He puts it on top of your dresser and looks you up and down. A red tube top with your baggy kuromi pajama pants. the waistband hung a bit low showing the top of your nike underwear pants.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile peeking on his lips before he hid his amusement to look up at you. "And is there any reason you asked me to take my hair out?" He didn't have his usual 2 braids, just his regular 4c hair in a low bun and you brightly smiled.

"Yes , actually, come sit." You walked over to the couch and sat down, a tray with a bunch of hair cair products, a comb and a rattail comb sitting next to you. "I wanna braid your hair."

He shrugged and sat between your legs, reaching his hand up to squeeze your thigh. "You sure mami?"

"Yeah, I spent hours perfecting stitch braids and I..wanted to try on you." You grab your comb as he reached down, pulling the rubber band out of his hair, revealing it to be much fuller and bigger than you thought.

You go silent. What the fuck was Mrs. Morales using and why did he have healthier and better hair than you? You were a bit envious, you were definitely gonna ask for haircare tips after.

"You good up there mami?" He raised his head up to look at you and you reach down to move his head back straight.

"Mhm..I got it, don't worry."

"Lo que tú digas" He says as you start combing through his hair which felt like silk, the comb quickly and easily moved through. Miles hummed as he closed his eyes, resting his head in your thighs.

"You're not tender-headed are you?"

"Nah..go crazy." He reached up to rest his arm on your thigh as you picked up the rattail comb, parting it down the middle and applying gel.

"Snooze" by SZA filled the room as you silently sung along to it. You stopped and moved your head down till you were face to face with Miles. He opened his eyes to look at you in confusion and you smiled, singing along with the lyrics.

"I can't loose, when I'm with you, how can I snooze and miss the moment? You just too important, nobody do body like you do"

Miles laughed at your antics and leaned in to kiss your cheek but you moved back, giggling.

"Uht uht, lemme finish." You sat back straight to continue braiding his hair as he closed his eyes again.

"Tienes la voz más hermosa (name)." Miles said as you smile to yourself.

Minutes later you had finally finished and top it off with some rubberbands at the ends.

"You done?" Miles asked as you nodded. "Lemme see."

You nervously handed your man the mirror as he opened his eyes to look at it. He was silent for a second, moving his head to the side to see it better.

"You like it?" You asked and he raised his head up to look at you with a smile. "Or it's like nah?"

"It's dope, I fuck wit it.." He paused and looked up at your satisfied expression. "Lemme rephrase. I love it mi amor" He said as your smile grew bigger.

"I got something hold on." You move his head back into position placing some cute hello kitty pins on his head, he watched you through the mirror intently as your face focused to find the perfect spots for the clips. "There, is it cute?"

"You got me putting all sorts of shit in my hair...I like it." He turned to face you, raising an eyebrow. "Do i get my kiss now?"

"No." You turn him back around as he playfully pouts before you chuckle. "I'm joking, c'mere." You move his head upwards so he was upside down, at least in your pov, and you kissed his lips slowly, cupping his face.

His hand that was holding the mirror up fell down to the ground as he pushed himself upwards to get the kiss deeper. As you both pulled back he had a goofy grin on his face, one you rarely saw.

It returned back to a smirk just as fast as it appeared, it was gone. He looked back into the mirror and raised an eyebrow, looking up at you. "You tryna be my personal stylist ma?"

You couldn't even clock what he was saying, he looked so good upside down like that. It took you a second before it registered in your head. "Huh...? Oh yeah, if you want."

Next up was face masks. You both were in your bathroom, and Miles watched you, arms crossed as you take out the masks from the paper bags they were in and placed them on the counter in front of your mirror.

"And that does what?" He asked, that was something he never seen before. I mean, he does skincare, his mom made him do it since birth but when it came to facemasks he always preferred a gel his mom always got for him.

"It exfoliates the skin and combats acne. Plus it gives you smooth skin." You say, looking up at him as he raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

"If you wanted smooth skin, we could've just done it another way mami." He wanted to crack up, his jokes get him sometimes.

You stare at him, looking up through the glasses you had on. "Why are you always so nasty?"

"I can't help it mi vida you do something to me." He whined as you stoped the emerging smirk on your face. "I know you wanna laugh."

"Miles." You turned away to hide your smile before looking back at him. "You need to start getting on your knees for Christ."

"Okay, pastor."

That got it. You both erupted into laughter, Miles laughing because you laughed and you just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Boy- anyway." You collected yourself as you giggled a little bit. "Do you want the hello kitty mask or the kuromi mask"

Miles pointed and looked at you. "Hello kitty please."

You took the mask out of the packaging before instructing him to sit down on the covered toilet seat due to him being taller than you. He obliged and you gently put the mask on him as he closed his eyes. You used your fingertips to smoothen out the mask on its sides.

"Damn, I've been missing out." He says as he stands up and you both walk over to the counter. He puts his hands on his face which was covered by the cute pink mask.

"Soft right?" You gently apply the purple mask on your face and he helps you smoothen out the sides like you did for him. "We look so good, hold on." You brought out your phone to take a mirror pic as Miles walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck as you snapped some pics. One where you both flashed grins at the camera, another where he was kissing your neck and another where he jokingly bent you over the counter, both of you making faces.

As the facemasks worked on your face, you both sat down on your bed, your nail kit open as Miles raised an eyebrow, looking through the colors.

"Matching nails?" He asked as you showed him the hello kitty nails you had gotten for yourself the other day.

"Yeah, I got hello kitty and I figured I could do a little kuromi for you." You smile at Miles who ponders over your words. "Pleaseeee?" You take his hands and pout playfully, blinking as you looked up at him.

He sighed. "Yeah okay whatever ma." He smirked as a huge smile graced your lips and you picked aside some colors.

"I have some kuromi nail thingamabobs so-"

"Thingamabobs? Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Miles asked as you grabbed the base coat bottle.

"Relax, I know you're supposed to put it on the nail, if you want i can just like try to draw the character instead?"

"Don't fuck me up mami."

And there you two were, half an hour or more later, on the couch, cuddled together and wrapped in blankets while eating snacks and watching scary movies.

You had painted Miles' nails black and purple and on the middle fingers for both of his hands was the character, Kuromi. You actually did a pretty good job drawing it but that's because Miles was stressing you to do a good job.

As the movie ended in a gory mess, you turned to look at Miles who was already staring at you. "What? Something on my face?" You asked and he smirked.

"Nah, you're just beautiful." It caught you off guard but he normally did that, he compliments you at random times to see how shocked and cute your flustered face is.

"Pfft- you're corny" You laugh, turning away to hide your face but Miles' noticed the big smile. You turned back to him. "Is there anything else you wanna do loverboy?"

Miles narrowed his eyes at you. "...I've got some ideas."

"Wha- MILES!"

He grabbed you, picking you up bridal style before placing you on the couch. In one swift motion you were under him and he was hovering above you, his legs between your thighs and his arms on both sides of your body, keeping you trapped.

"Tell the truth, I look better under you" He smirked down at you and as if on command, "Snooze" by SZA started playing again and Miles lowered himself and attached his lips onto yours.

Apart from SZA's smooth and slow voice, the only other thing that filled the room was the low volume of the tv which was playing the movie credits and the faint sound of lips smacking and small moans. Miles had moved one hand down to your thigh, putting it on his hip as he rubbed it gently but firmly.

"Damn."

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axelsagewrites · 8 months

Text

Daemon Targaryen*Wedding

Pairings: Daemon x f!reader

Word count: 2619

Warnings: none just fluff

Masterlist here

This is the finale of the sugar baby series but can be read as a stand alone one shot

Sugar Baby series

Part one - Part two - Part Three - Part 4.5 - Part Four

You couldn’t believe this was your life. The cake had been ordered, your hair and makeup booked, and your wedding dress had just arrived after its final alterations. Your wedding dress to marry Daemon Targaryen in. The days counting down to the wedding had been some of the most stressful yet joyous of your life.

Daemon had insisted on doing the “twelve days of weddingmass” where each day his assistant dropped off either flowers or chocolates or trinkets and all with a handwritten note.

Four more days doll. Can’t wait to see you at the alter – d.t

Three more days doll. I’ll be the one in the stunning red suit – d.t

Two more days doll. Can’t wait to be able to show you off to everyone there – d.t

One more day doll. Gods, I love you – your soon to be husband

Daemon was currently staying at his brother’s house, insisting that you don’t see each other the day of the wedding. It was slightly odd to you how he suddenly valued traditions, but you weren’t going to complain especially not the night before your wedding.

Sara had come over earlier in the day to help you with final touches and your nerves since even though you loved Daemon with all your heart you were still nervous as hell. Daemon had secretly spoke to sara though so today you had enjoyed full body massages and a guided meditation that he had organised along with a massive bouquet of flowers.

“girl, are you excited?” Sara asked, practically jumping onto the couch beside you as you both relaxed in the matching lilac robes Daemon had bought you. “you’re getting hitched,”

You couldn’t help but grin as you sank back into the plush sofa, champagne in hand. “I didn’t think I’d ever be this lucky,”

“you deserve it babes,” sara said as she topped of both your drinks, “couldn’t think of a better couple. Apart from me and Jace of course,” she added with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll drink to that,” you laughed as you clinked your glasses.

Sadly, you could not stay up too late but trying to sleep was almost impossible. The next morning when you and sara woke, you had insisted you had a final sleepover in bed together, you headed downstairs to find breakfast already made. Daemon has sent over a private chef to make pastries and fancy coffees for you and sara with a note on the counter.

I love you so much doll and I cannot wait to see you walking down that aisle today – yours truly

You enjoyed the last few minutes of calm energy you could muster before you got the call the car was here to take you and sara to the venue. As you pulled up outside sara squeezed your hand, “you ready Mrs Targaryen?” She spoke.

You smiled, letting go a breath with the last of your stress, “let’s do this fucker,”

When you arrived to the getting ready room everything was in full swing. Three makeup artists lined the room with vanities set up with big lights and plush seats. There were hairdressers further up the room all decked out to the nines with extensions and curlers for your party. Sara had come with you but Rhaenyra, Baela, and Rhaena were already in the room.

Rhaenyra squealed when she saw you, running over to encase you in a tight hug. You had both become so close since you had announced your engagement, so you were grateful to have her by your side. Part of you wondered if Baela and Rhaena found having a young stepmom to be awkward but if they had they’d never said anything since Baela handed you a champagne flute and Rhaenyra started a toast.

“to the wedding of the century,”

You were halfway through getting your makeup done when the room fell quiet. You apologised to the lady doing it before turning around and seeing Alicent had just walked in the room. Rhaenyra was doing her best to pretend she didn’t exist while Baela glared at her step aunt.

Sara was beside you and nudged you to speak. You stammered for a second before speaking, “just in time. I think Beth is the one taking you now,” you said, gesturing her to go to one of the makeup ladies who smiled brightly at the woman.

Alicent nodded, silently walking over when you decided you couldn’t have these awkward vibes today. You quickly jumped out your seat to head to the drinks table, “white or red Alicent?” You asked, holding each bottled up.

“red please,” she smiled, her eyes flickering down with a sorry gaze behind them.

You poured the wine quickly before taking it over to her, your own glass in hand, “to family,” you said, raising your glass to toast hers. Alicent smiled warmly as you gently clinked your glasses together, “and to whoever picked out these wines since these are fucking delicious,” you joked as you headed back to your seat.

The room laughed, the tension finally gone when Alicent pipped up, “I had the red flown from Dorne. I had it there on my honeymoon. The whites from old town though. My grandmother’s vineyard,” she said, an awkward smile toying her lips.

“then you dear sister have great taste,” you grinned before shutting your eyes to have your eyeshadow done.

You could practically feel the tension melt away as the room buzzed with excitement. As you were finished getting your hair done Jace slipped in the room. “had to make sure you don’t run for it,” he joked in your ear as you got out your chair.

“you can’t get rid of me that easy,” you laughed as you admired the fine work in the mirror. You looked fucking gorgeous.

“I was also sent to give you this,” he said as he held out an open necklace box revealing a delicate silver locket with a red ruby on the front. You gasped lightly, your fingers trailing the fine metal, “it was my great grandmothers, Daemons mom. He said it was your something old,”

You smiled softly as Jace helped place the locket around your neck. You held the locket gently in your hand when you turned back, “tell him thank you,” you said and Jace nodded before quickly giving sara a see you soon kiss and disappearing.

“this is for you too,” Rhaenyra said as she stepped out of the makeup artists chair and looking absolutely stunning you would add. “something borrowed,” she said as she passed you another small box.

You opened it with confused eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile when you opened it, “it’s beautiful,” you said as you took the silver pin with the Targaryen crest on the front.

“you pin it to the inside of your dress. We all did it,” she said, and you wondered how many generations had worn this pin on their own special days, “welcome to the family,” she said, giving you another hug.

“im gonna cry,” you said, fighting back the tears.

“no crying on my watch,” Aemond’s voice snapped you out of it as he entered the room. “yes, this is the look,” he said as you pulled back from Rhaenyra, “told you these girls know their stuff,” part of you wondered how Aemond knew so much about hair and makeup and fashion but you did not question it when you realised he was holding your dress, “and this is for you,” he said as he hung it up and began to unzip it.

All your bridesmaids quickly gathered round to see your dress and gasps and awws rang across the grounds. “it’s beautiful,” sara said, hugging your shoulders from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder, “have I ever mentioned how jealous I am?”

“a few times,” you said laughing at her joke, “now get out of here Aemond. We gotta get me changed,” you said making the girls laugh and hoot and Aemond to quickly scurry off.

Sara agreed to help you get into your dress while the others got into there’s. She had been practising doing up the corset strings on a mock up for weeks, so it was easy for her to quickly do you into the fine soft fabric. It was a crystal white colour with soft lace and tulle cascading down like a princess in a fairy tale.

All the girls kept oohing and ahhing when you revealed the dress. Alicent had went round the room making sure all the red wine was tucked away now you were all in your proper dresses. Rhaenyra, Alicent, Baela, and Rhaena all wore deep red satin bridesmaid dresses that in your opinion looked absolutely stunning on them. Now it was just sara to get dressed in her maid of honour outfit which while was the same cut and fabric was instead in a dark black shade.

Daemon had arranged for them all the be gifted alexander McQueen shoes which made sara almost cry as she slipped them on. However, your shoes were custom from Louboutin with a blue bottom instead of red to complete the tradition.

Soon you were ushered down the hall and waiting for the music to play. You got to finally see your groomsmen. Jace was there in his black suit waiting to take saras arm with a quick kiss. Cregan was introducing himself to a very flirty Baela who was keen to take his arm. Luke was chatting away to Rhaena who he would be escorting down and Aemond was on a walkie talky talking about something that he refused to tell you about. He was going to be walking his mother while Aegon who turned out to be less of an asshole than you first thought was waiting to walk with his sister.

Aegon quickly walked over to you, giving you a brief hug before whispering in your ear, “I’ve got a flask and a getaway car. Which will it be?” He said as he pressed the flask into your side discreetly with a cheeky grin.

You swotted at him but smiled as you took a swig of what you soon learned was straight vodka. “Christ Aegon what the fuck?” You said as you tried to recover from the vile taste, “you need better taste,”

“story of his life,” Aemond muttered as he ditched his headset, “places people we’re walking in 10. Get in order,”

Luke and Rhaena walked first, then Cregan and Baela, then Aemond and Alicent, then Aegon and Rhaena, then Jace and sara then finally you. As each couple started their walk you felt your eyes tear up at the sound of the wedding march. Sara reached back to squeeze your hand as Aegon and Rhaenyra began their walk.

You looked up when someone cleared their throat to see Viserys stood there in a clean black suit, “may I?” He smiled, offering his arm. You were touched since you had no one else to give you away and gladly took his arm.

Sara sent you an assuring smile before she started her walk and then it was you. You took one final deep breath before turning to your soon to be brother, “let’s do this,” you said. You could feel your feet moving but everything suddenly became so surreal as the entire room stood to welcome you. But when you looked down the aisle to see a teary-eyed Daemon turn around you knew you would be alright.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. No one objected, no phones pinged, and somehow you managed to not ruin your makeup despite being teary eyed the whole time. After signing the official papers and finally getting to kiss Daemon after a full 24 hours without him you were finally married.

You let out a sigh of relief as the limo door closed behind Daemon to take you to the wedding reception. “hello Mrs Targaryen,” Daemon grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“hello husband,” you grinned back, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“ooh I like the sounds of that doll,” Daemon said, his hand reaching to cup your jaw to deepen the kiss. You heard a click and when you looked up you noticed the driver had closed the partition and you laughed before turning your attention back to your new husband.

You arrived at the wedding venue with Daemon trying to help tame your hair and you straightening his tie. Your wedding party was waiting outside for you both to start their entrances. Luke and Rhaena were up first, dancing into the room while Gangnam style blasted from the speakers making everyone cackle. Next up was Cregan and Baela who both wore pink feather boas as they danced into wannabe by the spice girls, and you wondered how often they had to meet for their choreography.

It was Aemond and Alicent you were worried about since you had never seen either danced but everyone started to hoot and holler when we are family came on and they danced in with a very choregraphed elaborate ball room move that would make strictly jealous. Alicent had some moves damn. This was quickly followed by im sexy, and I know it by lmfao blasting as Aegon and Rhaenyra with Aegon walking on his hands and doing a flip while Rhaenyra wore a backwards baseball cap and sunglasses.

The whole room was already sore from laughing when it was Jace and saras turn. Dear future husband rang out as the pair span each other about and sara walked around showing off a large ring pop on her hand. You and Daemon had been waiting behind the doors, looking out and trying not to laugh at your friends and families’ antics.

“and finally, may I announce my best friend and everyone’s favourite uncle. Mrs and Mr Targaryen,” sara yelled into the mic making everyone burst into a round of applause. Sadly, for you both you did not choregraph a hilarious dance but instead ran in, hands held tight, as everyone applauded you both running to the sweetheart table before speeches would start.

While you loved the sentiment even you had to admit some of the speeches were a drone. That was until saras hilarious maid of honour speech where the whole room was laughing harder than at any point so far. Then it was Daemons turn to thank everyone for coming and then he turned to you, “and I couldn’t have done it without you doll. You have been my everything, a shining light in this hellish world and I thank you for that,” he said, his voice tearing up making you reach for his hand, “I love you and im gonna stop before I embarrass myself,” he said as he handed the microphone over.

The whole night was perfect. You danced your first dance to lover by Taylor swift and danced till your feet were about to fall off. You couldn’t have asked for a better night especially when right at the end Daemon decided to sweep you off your feet, literally, to carry you out to your limo he had waiting with even more champagne.

“where are we going?” You asked as you noticed the driver take a wrong turn.

Daemon smirked as he squeezed your hand, “right now we’re going to the Martell plaza hotel so that tomorrow morning we can catch our plane,” he said making you turn around excitedly in your seat. While Daemon allowed you to decide anything you wanted for the wedding, he had insisted on planning the honeymoon, “hope you’re ready for four weeks in Dorne doll. That is if I let you leave the hotel room”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @delicious-xx @pet1t3 @skyesayshi @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dark-night-sky-99 @lantsovheiress@themotherofblood @avalyaaa @simbaaas-stuff @lunampacheco

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nananarc · 7 months

Text

The Death Of Me . 2023

After being revived successfully by Arasaka, Vân spend their time working as a special agent under Takemura's care. During this time, they met Lương - a high ranking officer of SovOil - and continues to frequently work together on collaborative missions of Arasaka and SovOil, especially around the East Asia and South East Asia countries.

However, it comes as no surprise that Vân's life as the walking advertisement of Arasaka's technological superiority is not breezy. Time and time again, she becomes the target of Arasaka's own inhumane experiments and their competitors' attempted sabotaging and kidnapping. She harbors her own escape, with the help of their powerful ally, Lương.

After one especially deadly mission, Vân ends up with a critical injury which has caused Lương to rush the plan forward for fear of her life. This incident is a wake up call for both Lương and Goro of the corporat shackle, albeit much more so for her fellow Vietnamese colleague who comes from a rich dynasty than her Japanese lover who was a Chiba-11 slum kid that is still under the debt of Arasaka.

Lương and Vân ran away together as soon as they are back on their feet, leaving the still hesitating Takemura behind. He has had his doubts ever since 2077 when he first met Vân, and they only grow stronger as he witness her sufferings in Mikoshi and during the years they work together afterwards. But it is still not enough for him to abandon his so-called duty and convictions, something about "cannot teach an old dog new tricks".

That is, until Arasaka decided to "revive" another Vân-borg but very altered this time to better suit their needs. They have the same smile, same posture. They calls him exactly they way Vân likes to coos into his ears on the rare mornings when Vân wakes up earlier than him. But something is wrong behind those eyes. Goro watches as a ghost occupying the shell of whom his heart belongs to being paraded around by Arasaka like a twisted puppet. He finally decided that this old dog needs to teach himself new tricks.

But, is it too late?

Stay tune on "Na's midnight random incoherent brainrot" to find out!

Note1 : Did I just retconed my own hc of my characters? Yes. Have I ever introduced publicly those hc? Nope. Do I actually have an idea on how things are gonna turn out after thing? I dont. Bite me lmao.

Note2: I wanna play with the idea of Death, Life, and Love. Which one is Death in this comic? Goro or Lương? As well as when is Death ends and Life begins, because after the beginning a new life post-Mikoshi, she is on the verge of death many times other than this incident.

Goro and Vân are the love of each other's lives, but she loves Lương as well in her own ways. Lương loves her too despite him not really recognizing it and it not being the same thing as hers. Are these loves romantic, sexual, platonic, or whatever else?

Sorry haha the brainrot is just INTENSE today so i scribbled all of this down in just a few hours, idk if everything makes sense.

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yeahspider · 6 months

Note

I have a request if they're open! Can you please write something with Han or Felix based of the song Matilda by Harry Styles? I relate to that song more than I want to 😭

THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST !!!! tysm for stopping by my inbox i love this song it means alot to me so this is gonna be based off of my personal experience a little bit and i hope that's okay. also its a lil short im sorry . this is only semi proofread but just know that it was written passionately. abrupt ending as always and to all readers this is sfw but allusions to triggering topics such as parental abuse and neglect . enjoy and feel free to stop by again ! <3

(also i have something to confess …. this was originally written with lee know in mind bc i’m dumb and read your request wrong ….so i altered it i hope you still like it i’m sorry 😭😭)

Grape juice 🫀

"Do you think I'm a terrible person for leaving?" you asked felix as you both sat in silence on the hood of his car. The night was warm despite the cold thoughts making their way into your head. It's been six months since left your home and three since you met him. In that time you've never felt more free. Your home life was never that good. Your stepfather was mean and your mother was blinded in love She did her best and you know that, but you were suffocating. Never enough money to go around and even less love. Your childhood was cold and ended all too soon. your family was struggling and you wanted out. As soon as you came of age you left. Starting a life of your own a world away. A life that was significantly better than the previous one you led. Every so often though, those thoughts would creep back up.

you abandoned them

you're being selfish

ungrateful

a coward

but felix was always there to chase them away. he didn't know every sad detail of your life but he knew enough to know that your home life was slowly killing you. Taking your hand he rubbed his finger over your palm, tracing the lines and curves.

"Your mother called again?" you nodded as you mulled over what details of the conversation you had with your mother earlier that evening. Calling it a conversation is a kindness you apply for her sake. In reality, it was thirty minutes of your mother berating you for leaving. From the sound of her slurred words, you could tell she was drunk, not a new thing for her. On most days you can ignore her hurtful words but today for some reason unknown to you, they stuck around in your heart.

"Just more of the usual stuff. She wants me to come home. Says Im a terrible person for leaving, that I abandoned my family. you know the usual stuff." you tell him as you pick at a peeling piece of paint on the hood. you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and it made you feel so pathetic. How could someone miles away hurt your feelings? Crying felt stupid and pointless, you weren't taught to cry.

"You can cry you know? I'm not going to judge you." felix said as he wiped an escaped tear on your cheek. Something about those words made you so confused. Why wasn't he telling you to stop? To suck it up and be an adult? That you weren't a child anymore so it's not okay to cry when someone hurts your pathetic little feelings. An anger surged through you as you jumped out of the car and turned to him.

"Why are you so nice to me? I mean we barely know each other yet here you are comforting me on my mommy issues. What do you want from me?" you shouted at him as he just blinked at you, taking in your frenzied state. You weren't mad at felix and he knew that. This is just how you were taught to respond to kindness. Vulnerability was punished growing up, that lesson was still deeply embedded in your consciousness. He waited until your words washed over you and with the water came a calmness. He's seen plenty of your outbursts at this point in your friendship, although infrequent he handed them with grace every time. It surprised you never gave up on yourself like everyone else. Your brain wanted to be suspicious, your heart felt otherwise. felix waited until you released a breath and sat back down on the hood, muttering an apology as you went.

"You owe them nothing. All your life they've done nothing but tear you down as soon as you try and build a life for yourself. Your family robbed you of a childhood don't let them do the same to your adulthood. You deserve to live for yourself. That doesn't make you selfish or a coward. I won't let them ruin all the progress you've made. You're a good person. No one should make you feel any less." He finished his speech with a pat on your thigh, signaling you to get up and into the car.

"where are we going?" you asked as felix reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you. a habit he never seemed to forget.

"Somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. As far as we need to go for you toshake off those feelings. I'm gonna remind you how fun life can be. "

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #yeahspideranswers #stray kids reactions #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #yeahspider #lee felix fic #lee felix x you #lee felix angst #lee felix fanfic #lee felix smut #lee felix fluff #lee felix imagines #lee felix x reader #felix x reader

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raplinesmoon · 10 months

Text

Just Jin (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: Barbie!reader x Ken!Seokjin genres/au/rating: angst (with a happy ending!), fluff, Barbie au, break-up au, PG-13 summary: After a trip to the real world, you and Jin both come to a realization that will change your lives forever.

warnings: break-ups, sadness, existential crisis, mentions of doctor's appointments

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I'm still working on mafia!Hoseok but listen my brain has been wired since I came out of the Barbie movie earlier today. It legitimately changed me as a person, and I felt inspired to create this bc I think Jin gives off such Ken energy. This is based on but also slightly altered from the Barbie movie, and as such, it will contain massive spoilers for the movie, so read at your own risk (go see the movie tho)! Anyways this was just a fun, goofy indulgent drabble that made my heart warm, and I hope you enjoy!

Tip-toeing through the dream house, you try to ignore the sensation of your feet cramping. After learning the wonders of being flat-footed, standing on your heels was no joke. No wonder women in the real world complained about wearing stilettos all the time. But right now wasn’t about the pain women felt to conform to societal expectations of beauty. There were centuries to go before those outdated notions of what it meant to be a successful woman were squashed. Right now, there was something more pressing you had to deal with.

Things had changed since you left. The dream house seemed more like a nightmare, its pristine pink walls besmirched with posters of sports icons and various forms of taxidermy. You frown to yourself. This wasn’t the house you’d known. The life you’d lived before with Jin seemed nothing more than a distant memory, both of you tainted by your experiences in the real world.

Jin. Speaking of him, you knew you had to find him. When you’d learned from the others that he’d gone off the rails, worry clouded your mind. Not just for him, but for all the others – Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook too. They were all so impressionable, more fragile than they let on. It scared you to think of the state you might find him in right now. And that’s when you hear it.

The sound is muffled, but you can barely make it out against the quiet that nightfall brings. It’s a choked sob, guttural and raw in its devastation. And it’s coming from your bedroom. Ignoring the newfound feeling of your heart clutching in your chest, you square up your shoulders, ready to face what lay ahead. And then you head upstairs.

The door creaks as it opens, and you flinch, hoping the sound won’t give away your entry into the room. But there’s no response. Feeling braver, you push it wider and gasp at the state of everything. For all the horses and saloon decorations Jin had implemented downstairs, the upstairs of your dream house is pristine. Exactly untouched the same way you’d left it. The pearls on your lampstand glisten in the moonlight, the walls are free of garish posters, and the same plush pink and purple sheets adorn your bed. And in the middle of it, Jin lies facedown, unmoving.

Freezing, you take him in, noticing how small he looks right now, curled up into himself. Jin had always been larger than life – his windshield wiper laugh echoing down the entire beach, his dad jokes catching the admiration of everyone around him, a smile plastered onto his stupidly handsome face with those perfectly pouty lips. He’s wearing the same sleeveless denim outfit you’re always used to seeing him in, unlike the other boys, who’d bought into new and more trendy fashions.

If he feels the bed dip when you sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. You finally reach for him, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Jin?” you whisper softly. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t move. Your heart sinks, knowing how difficult this was for both of you. But you needed to do this.

“Can we please talk?

That’s what gets him to rise, silky black hair disheveled and eyes rimmed with the red of his tears.

“What could you possibly want to talk about?” he croaks out, sniffling into his sleeve. “Everything is ruined.”

The same guilty feeling bubbles up in your chest, knowing part of him is right. Everything had been ruined. But not in the way you’d expected. When you and Seokjin had entered the real world, you’d been unprepared to have your lives change forever. No matter how much you tried to pretend that things could just go back to the same way they’d been before, they couldn’t. And both of you knew it.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you let out a sob of your own. “I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Jin hardens at your sobs, straightening up, the sadness on his face morphing into a mask of fury.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” he bellows. “Sorry doesn’t cut it! This was supposed to be our dream house, ___! That's why I went through all the stupid decorations and the revamp! You think I like saloons? No! But this was supposed to be our dream! Us, together! It’s always been ___ and Jin. I don’t know how to be anything without you! I don’t want anything to change. I love you!”

You embrace his trembling body, pulling it in close to yours.

“I love you too Jin. I always have, and I always will. But I’m not sure that love is enough anymore.”

Jin pulls away from you, and you watch his eyes widen in surprise, giving you the strength to go on.

“When we were out there, something changed. I realized that while what we had was perfect, it’s okay to not be perfect all the time. Not everything is a dream come true. Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want them to, and that’s life. A-and I want to experience life Jin. I’m sick of just smiling all the time. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to laugh. And I want that for you too.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you,” Jin breathes out softly. “It feels like I failed you.”

“Hey,” you reach out to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t fail me, or anyone else, okay? You’re enough. Maybe it’s time for us to stop being ___ and Jin. And to be just ___. And just Jin.”

He looks up at you, stars in his eyes, and you can see the sadness intertwined with hopefulness. “You really think we can find something better out there? Something that makes leaving this all behind worth it?”

You take his hand in yours.

“I know we can. And we will. But we can’t do it together. At least not right now.”

A tiny smile breaks out onto his face. “But maybe someday?”

You hesitate, not wanting to believe in false hope only to turn out devastated in the end. But Jin needed something to believe in. And so did you.

“Maybe someday, when we both have found out what makes us happy, what our reason is to live, we’ll find love again. We both deserve it.”

And Jin crumples for a second time in your arms that night, only this time it’s not from devastation. It’s the kindness in your voice that has him desperately believing that you could be right. That maybe someday both of you would figure out what these strange and complex emotions were - joy, happiness, fun. And real love. True love. They were, after all, what being a human was all about.

You thank the taxi driver, hopping out of the vehicle. Flexing your feet, you remark at how comfortable the new pink slides feel on them, your heels no longer arched and uncomfortably cramping. The sales associate had called them Birkenstocks, and you make a mental note to go back and buy a few other colors.

The building is tall, sleek and modern not unlike the scary headquarters of some rich corporation that seeks to swindle the money of innocent consumers. But today, you’re not scared to go inside this building. You’re excited.

The excitement follows you up the elevator, a smile on your face. Hearing the ding! for your floor, you make your way out, when you’re stopped by the old woman next to you.

“You have a beautiful smile, dear.”

That only makes it grow wider.

“Thank you, you look beautiful too.”

You don’t know why, but the serene and dazed look on her face stays with you as you enter the glass doors to the office.

Making your way to the front desk, you practice the carefully rehearsed lines in your head. When you reach it, the receptionist is tapping away at the keyboard.

“Hi!” You say brightly. “My name is ___ ____. I’m here for my gynecologist appointment!”

The receptionist finally peers out from behind the screen and you suck in a breath. Something about him seems so familiar. Broad shoulders, pouty lips, dark hair. But in your entire human life, you never recalled seeing him before. The weird sense of deja vu continues when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Nice to meet you, ___, and welcome to Bangtan Center for Women’s Health. My name is Ken Seokjin and I’ll be happy to help you get checked in today!”

You don’t know why you flush at his words, but you fidget with your fingers behind your back, hoping he can’t see you.

“Great Mr. Ken! It’s my first time here, so I’m kind of nervous.”

“Just call me Jin,” he smiles. “I’m happy to help out.”

He pauses for a moment, ears turning red, before continuing on:

“Say, you look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” you grin, before faltering. “But I don’t think so.”

“Well in that case, it’s nice to meet you again.” He reaches out over the counter, offering his hand, and you don't hesitate before enveloping it in yours, shivering at its warmth.

“Nice to meet you as well, just Jin.”

a/n pt. 2: I realize this kind of deviated from the movie and some of its themes, but I had to make it work with their relationship hehe. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

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r0und3bitch · 2 years

Text

BFF’s - Worst Behavior

Summary: You took something that belongs to Rafe but he doesn't want it back.

“Oh, I know where you got it— but I want to hear you say it…”

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!!!! Best Friends Kink, Daddy Kink, Innocence Kink, possessiveness/jealousy, hair pulling/choking, cursing, dom/sub nature. Slutty 💘

Notes: My bratty baby!!!! Truly an absolute joy to write. She's a wild one and I love her to death! Let me know what you think, loves!!

Song Inspiration:

Drake - Worst Behavior

Jack Harlow & Lil Wayne - Poison

BFF's Masterlist

Rafe Cameron was dripping in sweat.

It was a sweltering hot afternoon on the Figure Eight as the unforgiving Carolina sun beat down on the Island Club Golf Course.

He’d feigned annoyance when Kelce had mentioned playing a round today— until he pulled that beautiful little bag of white powder out of his pocket— Rafe’s kryptonite.

His irritation quickly faded with each line Kelce bumped him, their swing significantly improving after each hole. That is, until his phone buzzed eagerly in his pocket, pulling him back from the shitty joke Topper was trying to make as he rolled his eyes and flipped the screen open, ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off—

That is…until he saw it.

It took only once glance down at his phone, once clenched tightly in his large palm, now falling freely from his grasp as his brain short circuited.

“Holy fuck—”

He caught the phone in his other hand, his friends' heads whipping around at the outburst.

“You good, bro?”

Good? Was he good? Or had his entire existence just faded away into nothing?

You’d replied that you had plans for the day when he texted earlier that morning, pretending to not be annoyed by your short, standoffish answer.

He didn’t realize your plans included this.

His soul was breaking into a million pieces as he stared down at the mind bendingly, cataclysmically life altering picture of his best friend as another text quickly came through.

FUCK! I did NOT mean to send that to you!

A simple misunderstanding melted to rage as Rafe took in your words, reading them only once more before the picture demanded his eyes attention again, making his dick twitch in his pants as he stared down at the girl he’d known his entire life— you.

His best friend. His perfect, bratty, stubborn best friend— hair braided into attempted innocence, tongue curled up over those plump lips he’d more than once imagined shoving his cock down over the years, your absolutely perfect in literally every way, perky tits were hiked up to near impossible levels, somehow shoved and stuffed into the tiniest bikini Rafe had literally ever seen.

And if all of that hadn’t already sent him to his near breaking point, it compared little to the complete downward spiral he went into when he registered the necklace dangling from that pretty little neck of yours.

The necklace.

What in the actual fuck it was doing dangling from your goddamn neck right now, Rafe hadn’t a clue as another text can’t through.

I clicked the wrong chat!! 😰

If your first text didn’t sit well with him, the second one blanketed Rafe with that blood boiling, seeing red rage he was much too familiar with. He was seething.

His jaw clenched down hard, tongue between his teeth so tight he could already taste the blood.

Even though all he wanted to do was stare down at the picture all goddamn day, he swiped his phone closed, already jogging over to the golf cart, ready to tear down anyone and everything that stood in his way.

“I’ve gotta go!”

“What the fuck!” He heard Topper yell over him. “We just started!”

Rafe wasn’t paying them any attention as he sped the cart away towards the club house. Once parked, he was out and near sprinting to his truck at this point, passing a group of guys on the way out of the Island Club who looked vaguely familiar, remembering them from somewhere in his long term memory, the mental image of you in that picture fully taking over his short term memory, demanding his full and undivided attention.

It was a short drive to your house, the route memorized on auto pilot after all of these years.

The second the truck was in park, he was throwing the door open, marching up to your front steps, his large fists slamming against the front door as loud as he possibly could— still seeing nothing but red.

It was only seconds later the door was thrown open— revealing you before him. You’d had the decency to throw on a baggy, old Kildare Prep t-shirt but Rafe could still see the pink hues of the micro sized bikini you were sporting under the white fabric that hung loosely over all your curves— noticing with a nasty quirked eyebrow that you didn’t have any pants on.

Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of him.

“Rafe—what’re you doing—”

You let out a squeak when he pushed you both beyond the threshold, hand whipping back to slam the door closed as the other pushed against your abdomen— his one hand covering your entire front side— slamming you back against the wall as a near whimper fell from your lips.

Growing up with Rafe, you were no stranger to his frequent, earth shattering anger and rage that could take hold of him. You were quite confident, as his eyes blazed down on you like he was ready to rip your head off, that although you’d spent nearly your whole life growing up with this boy— whatever or whoever was standing in front of you right now was unbeknownst to you— this was different. He was different.

“What am I doing?” His tone was one of disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom how you could even be asking him that right now. “What do you think you are doing, Y/N?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that, no?”

He was fully towering over you now, his head dipping down lower, inching closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t pressed tightly against your waist firmly planted on the wall behind you, allowing him to trap you in his arms.

“Rafe, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to send—”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Y/N/N.”

His tone of voice was ice cold, the irritation with you so evident— you couldn’t help it when you felt the butterflies rise within you or the pool that gathered between your legs upon hearing your name.

“I’m only going to ask you this once…”

When you felt his chest press against you— so strong and firm you thought you could die— the breath came hollowing out of your lungs so deep Rafe could hear it, wondering what other kinds of sounds he could draw out of his best friend.

“And don’t even fucking think about lying to me, because I’ll know…”

You involuntarily groan at his words.

“Oh, I know where you got it— but I want to hear you say it…”

If Rafe wasn’t holding you up against the wall, you’d have surely fallen to the ground at his words, your knees all but threatening to give out as you guessed where this was going, heart racing at the thought.

He slowly brought his hand up to the collar of your shirt, pulling it down to expose the necklace dangling off your pretty little neck— an image he thought he’d only see in his wildest dreams from the moment he’d bought it— the jeweled letters spelling out his name hitting a few specks of sunlight— casting rainbows across your glowing face.

“Tell me where you got this fucking necklace, Y/N.”

An actual whimper left your lips this time. The sound spreading the most wicked, sinister grin across Rafe’s face.

“Nuh uh, I need words. Now…”

Your heart was racing faster than ever before. You knew he knew the truth— and now he was going to make you say it.

He couldn’t help himself when his hand came up to your neck, dying to touch and feel the necklace against your skin from the moment he saw it. His large hand grasped the entire side of your neck—you couldn’t help your mind from envisioning how it would feel to have them clench down and choke you— when you felt his thumb rub up the front of your throat, making your breath hike, as he sternly guided your chin upwards, demanding his eyes on yours— demanding an answer.

“Y/N.”

The answer falls from your lips the second your name leaves his mouth.

“I took it out of your backpack when I was over this weekend.”

And there it was. The truth that Rafe had known since the moment he saw that fucking photo pop up onto his phone screen. The necklace he’d bought (that he never thought would ever even see the light of day) surely wasn’t secured into his bag that he’d last left it in— it was dangling from his best friend's neck like a wet dream. His wet dream. The same one he’d always had for as long as he’d known you…

And although the truth was out, the harder question was yet to be answered, the one Rafe didn’t want to fucking hear but who’s brain demanded to know.

You saw the muscles in his jaw twitch, only guessing what was coming next, his voice a growl in your ear, laced with accusation as he dipped his head down to your eye level.

“And what stupid fucking asshole did you think you were going to send that photo to wearing my necklace, hmm?”

“Rafe, it doesn’t even matter—”

“No—” his voice was different this time, almost pleading in anger. “I want to hear you fucking say it.”

“Rafe…”

“Wrong name.”

His voice sounded almost disgusted with you but his eyes still held the same pleading look. The same look you’d given into so many times throughout your friendship, why should this be any different.

“Joey Hudson…”

Joey Hudson. Rafe’s mind flashed back to his hauling ass rush of leaving the Island Club only a short time ago, to the group of guys who seemed vaguely familiar as he passed, to Joey fucking Hudson sitting amongst them.

Rafe walked right past the asshole.

The lethal laugh that left his lips was anything but pleasant, the sound sending chills down your spine.

“That fucking touron? You were sending that stupid fuck a picture in my necklace—”

Rafe should’ve known, well—he did know because he knew you. Yet he was too far drowning in his own fit of rage and jealousy to account for your inevitable bratty, resilient attitude.

“Well I don’t know who your stupid fucking necklace was meant for but it looks better on me anyway.”

There it was. That stupid, spoiled, infuriating, entitled attitude of yours that had been driving Rafe crazy (and haunting his dirtiest thoughts— often times while his hand was wrapped around his own cock) his entire life.

He wanted to fucking scream.

“That’s not possible.”

His cool dismissal of your cockiness was a low blow you couldn’t ignore, your face twisting pathetically at his words, stubborn and unwilling to let him win as anger coursed through you, even if he did think the necklace would look better on some other bitch’s neck— that’s not the reason you took it.

You’re spewing now, pulsating with hurt and anger at the thought of him giving this necklace to another girl, one of the many in his repertoire to choose from.

“It looks better on me than any other stupid bitch you could’ve—”

You choke on your words as he removes his hand from the wall to clasp it down fully over your mouth.

“That’s not possible because I bought it for you, you fucking brat.”

His hand only stays covering your mouth for a second as your eyes bulge from your head. The only reason you’d taken it from his bag had been due to the fit of jealous that literally consumed you the second you’d discovered it when snooping through his bag, expecting to find coke and instead finding that diamond studded five letter word sitting so pretty in that velvet box.

Your mind blurs as you feel Rafe shove you into the small first floor bathroom right outside the foyer, hearing the door slam behind the two of you as the light flicks on.

You’re both standing facing the large mirror, Rafe directly behind you as you catch his gaze in the glass. It’s haunting as he stares down at you, eyes full of something you haven't seen before— or maybe you had…

His hand tugs on the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Take this off…”

Rafe Camerons tone always aired on the side of that dominating, arrogant, figure eight culture he’d grown up in—while this was no different, you could feel his words pool between your legs again, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. As sassy and infuriating as you absolutely loved to be with him, always pushing his buttons and driving him crazy. Right now… you wanted to obey him.

You do as you’re told, taking the fabric in your grasp and slowly bringing it above your head, tossing it to the floor as you hear Rafe let out a shaky breath behind you.

The picture you’d sent him quite literally paled in comparison to the real life image of you before him— complete and utter perfection.

He was losing himself in the way parts of you fell out of the fabric at all the right places, at how your breasts were threatening to burst from the pathetic seams of the bikini and how your hardened nipples poked through, begging to be touched.

His brain felt dizzy from seeing you like this, in ways he’d only dreamed of.

Without thinking, your hand came up to touch the necklace, fingers gently grazing the letters Rafe was begging to hear you call him.

His next words hit you straight to the gut, causing a wave of emotions you didn’t think remotely possible as his hand comes to push one of your braids over your shoulder to give him a better view.

“Jesus Christ, I knew this necklace would look so beautiful on you the moment I bought it, baby.”

Hearing him call you that feels like a dream come true, like a tidal wave crashing over you as you register his admittance of being physically attracted to you...not that you hadn’t already consciously been aware of that on some level. The whimper he hears come out of you only encourages him to go on, not like he could stop his own thoughts if he wanted to at this point.

“I never dreamed you’d let Daddy see it on you though, Y/N/N…”

You’d heard that nickname of yours come out of his mouth hundreds if not thousands of times in your lifetime, yet hearing if paired with the name glittering from your neck— this time it sinks down deep in your soul, attaching itself to your deepest, darkest want: him.

“Rafe…please”

Your plea for him was all he needed to hear.

When Rafe’s lips press down into your shoulder, your eyes fluttered closed, head falling back lazily onto his chest, unable to stop the moan falling out of your mouth as his lips turn into your neck.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror, only this time they hold a flame that sparks something deep within you, a switch that can be turned off.

“Y/N…”

You feel his hands squeeze at your sides before feeling them travel up to the back of your neck, his two fingers easily untying the bow ties there as the straps immediately come falling to your sides, your breasts quite literally popping out of the strained fabric with such force you heard Rafe moan behind you, hearing that sound from him nearly orgasmic.

It’s nothing compared to the look on his face right now though, eyes blown out beyond recognition, looking as if he might actually cry, as he devours every single inch of you.

His voice is low in your ear once more, holding a dreamlike wonder before going back to his cool edge, refusing to break eye contact through the mirror.

“Do you have any fucking clue how many times I’ve imagined this, imagined you like this?”

He was so close to you now that when he grabs your waist and pulls you back, you feel him, how absolutely rock hard he is under his pants and you literally mewl over, the most helpless, whiny pout Rafe has ever seen in his entire fucking life taking over your face as you thrust your ass back at him, almost begging to feel more of him— as Rafe just repeats the same thought on loop—knowing what he’s always known.

She’s going to be the fucking death of me.

“God you’re so pretty it actually hurts, baby.”

“Rafe...”

He feels your hands reach back, frantically trying to grasp his t-shirt in your palms and he watches goosebumps rise over your breasts, making your nipples perk up to unbelievable heights as he hears you whine again, his words coyly meant to shush you.

“Shhhhh… I know, Y/N. I feel it too.”

Your mind blows apart when he confirms it— confirms your sickest, most desperate dreams you’d never thought possible. He feels it too.

He loves the feeling of you tugging at his shirt so much, confirming you want it just as bad as he does as he finally brings his hands up your side, hands feeling like heaven as he grabs at each of your breasts, watching as he rolls and pinches your nipples between his fingers, absolutely loving watching the way your face contorts wildly, shivers running up and down your body at the feeling.

Rafe feels you tremble slightly in his arms, grin threatening to take over his face as he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly. You were falling apart in his arms and god damn he loved every single second of it— every single moment of being the one to cause you to do so.

“You like the way that feels, hmm?”

You couldn’t respond if you wanted to, words lodged down deep into your throat where his dick should be.

But Rafe didn’t need a response, he knew.

“I’ve known you your whole life, Y/N” as his hands grab at every part of you, blissed out from finally getting to touch you like this after all these years, scared he’s going to wake up and it all won’t be real.

The thoughts tormenting him of Joey fucking Hudson’s hands touching you instead of his own come piercing through his mind, making his blood boil, venom dripping from his next words.

“You really think some touron fucking idiot here for the summer knows you better than your best friend? Knows their way around your body better than me?”

You find your voice in that moment, coming out more of a pout than anything, lost in his words, not realizing his hands trailing down lower and lower.

“You’ve never even touched me like this before…”

“Yeah, and look at how fucking wet you are for me, sweetheart.”

You almost screamed when you felt his fingers brush past the fabric of your bikini bottoms, sliding over your clit, gliding back and forth with such ease due to the actual pool of liquid gathered there like a prized trophy on display for him, wanting nothing more than to show him what he was doing to you.

“Oh my god, Rafe.” Your voice coming out breathy and heavy.

You feel empty when he removes his hand all too quick, needing, begging to feel him again as his cool voice hits your ear drums again, feeling like you’re drunk.

“Turn around.”

When you do, you half expect him to demand you drop your knees, which is exactly why your jaw fully falls to the floor when he drops to his before you, looking up you in such a way you’re not sure how you’re still standing, gulping at the sight of him, lips slightly set in a pout but face determined as his hands come up to your hips.

His tongue flicks out slowly between his teeth before licking both of his lips like he’s starved as he pulls your bikini down your legs, leaving you standing there before him in nothing but the necklace. Rafe couldve came at the sight alone, memorized by the glittered letters— memorized by you.

You felt his breath fan your core as he tosses your bikini to the floor but not before seeing the giant wet mark you he made in them, filling him with such a sense of pride and newfound possessiveness over you.

“Spread your legs open for me just a little bit…”

His middle finger only comes up to toy with your clit, his finger pad just barely hitting your bud as you throw your head back, not fully giving you what you want but the sensation alone involuntarily making your legs open wider as he chuckles to himself.

“Good girl. If I don’t at least taste a little bit of you right now, I’m gonna fucking die—”

Rafe Cameron—your best friends tongue attaches itself to your core as you white knuckle grip down on the counter for dear life— you would’ve given absolutely anything to him in this moment— would’ve laid your life out on the line if it meant having him make you feel like this.

He groans when he finally tastes you, confirming what he’s always known; you’re straight poison—a drug he’d willingly overdose on— eyes rolling into the back of his head at how unbelievably sweet he just fucking knew you’d be.

Now that he’d had a taste— he needs more. He needs everything.

His mouth slowly makes its way up, hovering over your stomach and then your chest…

His lips came up to your perfectly perked up nipples, literally begging to be played with as you felt it being sucked firmly between his lips, felt the tip of his tongue flick back and forth over the hardened nub before the back arching feeling of it grazing his teeth— his eyes looking up at you at that exact moment— the way he was looking at you should be illegal.

Rafe Cameron’s mouth had been nearly everywhere on you. It had touched the most intimate parts of your body, parts you still couldn’t believe it was real.

Yet as he towered back over you and his lips came closer to yours, you felt your lungs nearly collapse.

You’d dreamed about this moment entirely too many times, had thought of him on far too many occasions— both in private and in public. What those beautiful lips could do to you. What they now had done to you…

With one final look down on you— reliving nearly every memory from the moment he’d met you till this exact moment in time— he leaned forward and made all of his wildest dreams come true.

The moment you felt Rafe’s lips on yours, you knew. You knew this was it.

This was why you had stolen the necklace without a second thought upon finding it. Hell, you knew this was why Rafe had bought the necklace.

Rafe was your best friend. You knew & he knew. This was how it should feel, how it could feel, how it does feel.

The taste of your lips on his is was so sweet, entirely too sweet for his bratty, know it all, had to always be right, best friend. He knows better. He knows you better.

Yet his brain still almost goes into a fit of shock when he feels you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, your tongue rolling over it threatening to make Rafe’s whole body shake. When he feels you bite down, his hand reaches up to grab at one of your braids instinctively within seconds, yanking you back briefly— the feeling utterly delicious— before pulling the braid closer to him, pulling you closer to him, demanding to taste more of you.

His face held no trace of a smile as he looked down on you, but the rushing effect it had when paired with his next words were all the same.

“Bend over.”

You don’t move a muscle, not fully being able to register his words as his gaze grows grim.

“I—”

He doesn’t use his words, only his hands this time as he grabs your waist and spins you so quickly you feel like you have whiplash, now facing the mirror again as he grabs your braid and pulls you flush against him so he can growl in your ear.

“Are you gonna bend the fuck over the counter for me baby or am I gonna have to ask you again?”

“Don’t be a brat, Y/N/N. I know you. I know you want to do as you’re told. I know you just want to be my good girl.”

Rafe had always been able to read straight through you, one of his more frustrating traits— his mind always crystal clear when it came to you.

He’s foaming at the mouth as he watches you sink your hands to the back of the bathroom counter, allowing your body to fall slowly forward onto the hard surface as your legs are spread wide open, ass and pussy on full display for him as Rafe takes in the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

You’d expected him to take you right then and there— not bend down to his knees for the second time as he literally coos at you.

He knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

“Mmmmm, nice and slow sweetheart. I’ve only dreamed about how tight this pussy is, now I want proof.”

You let out an unholy whimper as his fingers slid across your clit, causing shockwaves down your spine before you felt his fingers at your entrance, slowly sliding between your lips, feeling the delicious feeling of them spreading you open, of him filling you up.

You gasp as he slowly pushes two fingers deep into your pussy that’s so perfectly on display while you’re bent over, the sight alone making him almost drool. His fingers fill you in ways you didn’t think possible and when you feel his cool ring finger slide inside you, you clench down hard on him making both of you gasp out loud.

“God damn, Y/N…”

Rafe is confident he’s never been more turned on his whole life, his dick so hard against his pants it almost hurts. He could honestly cry right now as he looks at his fingers, as he feels your soft insides clench tightly around him, pussy so wet and beautiful and needy for him.

“I didn’t get a good enough taste last time, Y/N/N.”

Rafe feels and sees the pool of arousal gather around his fingers and soak out of you at his words, making his eyes roll to the back of his head at how perfect it all is— at how perfect you were— at how perfect you had always been.

“You are you gonna let Daddy taste you again, baby?”

“Pleaseeeeee, Rafe…please”

The helplessness in your voice tugs at something deep within him, a newfound sense of purpose.

“I know baby girl, so good—”

Rafe wasn’t even making sense at this point; your pussy drawing nearer to his lips putting him under a spell as you felt his mouth dive deep into you, tongue tracing undecipherable love letters into your clit making you shriek out loudly, letting all your body weight fall heavy against the countertop, the cold feeling of the granite against your burning hot skin the most perfect, damning feeling as Rafe flicked your clit back and forth across his tongue at a relentless pace.

You’d heard stories of Rafe’s history and experience through the grapevine on the island— the gossip and talk nearly inevitable given his track record.

Yet you couldn’t ever believe it could feel like this. That it could literally feel like god himself was between your legs right now, sending you into the heavens above happily as he devoured you.

“Oh my god, that feels so good…” your voice came out in breathy moans. “You feel so good…”

Rafe’s hands come up to your ass at your words, squeezing firmly as he hears more beautiful moans fall from your lips, before bringing his right hand down hard on your cheek— hearing the loud smack before you register the beautiful sting that follows— the most damning gasp falling from your lips.

While he could happily taste you like this for the rest of his life— he’s also demanding, and selfish, and only then does he remember that he’s not the one who was originally supposed to make you cum today, he wasn’t the one you’d meant to send that picture to.

The thought of your perfect pussy spread out like this for anyone else—the idea of you wearing his necklace, the one he bought for you, for anyone else but him revolts him, unaccepting of such a despicable idea.

No one else in this entire world should get to have you like this, they don’t get to watch your face fall apart or hear those breathy little moans leave your lips while you’re spread apart like a little slut over your bathroom counter— they haven’t earned that right.

But Rafe Cameron sure as fuck has.

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to physically see your face crumble the first time he makes you cum, as he makes you forget every other man in this world, as he shows you none of them can make you feel the way he can, like he’s been silently begging and craving to do for years.

His mind momentarily drifts back to your cheerleader outfit from High School, the way that tiny little skirt of yours could ruin an entire evening for him. How you ruined him over and over again every time he’d catch a glimpse of you during a game from the field, feeling his dick harden against his cup every single time.

His perfect, bratty best friend.

You feel that empty, helpless feeling when he mouth stops moving, suckling at your clit so hard it makes you gasp before fully removing his lips from you. Rafe rises up from his position on the ground to tower behind you again.

When he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it amongst your forgotten bikini on the floor, leaving him standing there like something plucked straight from your wildest fantasy, admiring the way his own chain dangled from his neck before looking back to the one around yours, reminding you of the matching “bffs” broken heart necklaces the two of you shared as kids…

He never tore his eyes from you as he slowly undid his belt buckle; the sound of the heavy metal clanking making you nearly drool.

You needed him so fucking bad, and he needed you just as much.

You heard the zipper come down slowly, unable to handle waiting any longer.

“Rafe, I need you.”

Whether he heard your words or chose to ignore them (oh he fucking heard you alright), you’re not sure, because when you do finally open your eyes again it to see Rafe finally pull his dangerously erect cock from his pants, moaning loudly at how it falls easily into his large hand as he begins to pump it.

You could’ve actually murdered every single girl who came before you who’d gotten the chance to admire how beautiful it was— how beautiful he was.

The stories you’d heard, all but driving your mind wild for your best friend over the years, leading you to do dangerously filthy things when alone— reliving all the gossip the girls on Figure Eight had tormented you with about the legend that was Rafe Cameron.

His next words wash away any doubt, any hint of jealousy that was pulsating through you only a second ago.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you, Y/N. Just like you’ve ruined me for anyone else. All I can fucking see is you…”

With the most purpose and conviction you’d had this entire time, your pleading look turns deadly serious as your hand reaches behind you to grab Rafe’s cock, unable to not know how it feels wrapped around your hands a second longer.

“Fucking do it. Ruin me. I’ve only ever wanted to be yours, Daddy…”

Hearing that word makes Rafe’s whole brain explode into tiny fragments, his soul leaving his body as he revels in the feeling of you finally touching him where he’s craved after all of these years.

He slowly takes your hands off his cock and helps you grip the edge of the counter once more, whispering down to you as he lines up to your entrance, committing every single detail to memory.

“Hold on tight, baby. I’m about to blow your whole world apart.”

His hands were gripping tightly at your waist as you felt him slide deep into the tightest places your pussy hadn’t even dreamed of being touched before, fully bottoming out within you as his hands trembled now at your sides.

“Fuck—!”

“That’s my fucking girl—”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks as you feel his hips buck up into you, making you gasp so loud at the feeling of your best friend's cock beginning to pump in and out of you.

“It’s why I bought that fucking necklace, never even had any intention to give it to you. Paid a fortune for it too…”

As he takes you by your throat and pulls you against him, keeping his pace steady and hard as he fucks into you, watching your breasts bouce back and forth in the mirror, the light once again hitting the necklace and forcing all his attention to it— almost obsessively.

“So fucking worth it”

He removed his hand from your throat to grab at each of your braids as he fucks you, watching your dripping center swallow him over and over again, the sight truly something to behold.

Rafe wants to push you as far as you can go though, he still wants you to pay for earlier.

Rafe Cameron has been driving you crazy your entire life and you him.

Beneath him he watches as you stare intently in the mirror, jaw hanging open as loud moans fill the small bathroom.

“My dirty girl likes watching herself get fucked dumb in the mirror, huh? You like watching my cock move in and out of you like that?”

The sound you make is more of a scream than anything else, pleading with him.

“So much—”

“Mmm, Me too baby, so do I. Never dreamed you could take my cock so good. So tight for me, Y/N/N”

Him calling you by your nickname with his dick so far up inside you was doing lethal things to your already fucked out brain.

“So good, Rafe.”

“Didn’t think you’d ever let me touch you like this, pretty girl.”

“You like getting fucked like a little slut?”

“Mhm, your slut, daddy.”

“You’re taking me so well, Y/N. So. fuckin. tight—” his cock thrusting into through your walls hard as he breathed out each word, hearing the sound of skin slapping, the most vulgar noises being made between the two of you.

“Who’s the only one who can make your pussy feel this good?”

It was almost embarrassing how quick you were to answer, at how good you wanted to be for him.

“You Rafe, it’s only you, I promise.”

Rafe wasn’t surprised by how fast the confessions were falling from your lips, he felt it too— but he needed to hear it.

“You’re goddamn right—” as he grunts loudly, using the tone of voice on you that he usually only reserved for those who were on the receiving end of his fists. “Not some fucking touron who doesn’t even deserve to get to look at you!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry Rafe—”

“—You’re falling apart for me, baby look at yourself.”

At that he reaches around to grab your jaw roughly in his grasp, jolting your head upward in the mirror, forcing you to look at what he was doing to you.

“Harder, Daddy—please…”

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you so hard you forget the rest of their names— fuck you so hard that you forget your name?”

If Rafe hadn’t kept repeating it, your own name would’ve already been lost to you, your mind only being able to focus on the one thing fully consuming it, likely forever: him.

“Yes, please god. Do it. Make me forget—Please Rafe. Don’t stop—”

His fingers rose to the back of the chain on your neck, pulling it tight against your throat as he heard the choked moans.

It was your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of his head, savoring the beautiful feeling as the pressure from the necklace ripped all the air out of lungs, your teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip before spreading into a wicked grin almost as wide as your legs.

The second he sees you smile, so blissed out and needy with how rough he was being with you—Rafe was so proud of himself, of course he knew exactly what you wanted.

He lets go of the necklace as you gasp for air, his pace only quickening as he pulls you by your waist, bringing you as close to him as he possibly can, loving the hot, sticky feeling of your skin against his.

The feeling of your skin burning against his ignites something in Rafe as he brings his hand down between your legs, making you scream his name out loud when his fingers find your clit, his nails scratching at his bicep and forearm wrapped around your waist.

You have never in your entire fucking life felt this good and you know, you just fucking know in this moment that you’ve always been holding out, reserving yourself for him.

He watches happily as you lose it in his arms— lose control, lose sense, lose any part of yourself that didn’t now belong to him.

He heels your head lean back against his shoulder as your body begins to shake, this time not needing your words to confirm how close you were as your hands flail around, desperate to dig your nails into anything you can grasp.

“Daddy…”

He sees your doe eyes lazily roll up to him in the mirror and watches the tears pool in them, threatening to spill over—knowing he’s done for well before he hears your words.

“You’re so perfect, Rafe…fuck—I’m so close—” turning your head on his shoulder, faces only an inch apart as you look up into his crystal blue irises— never wanting to forget this.

“Best friends forever, right?”

His cock finds that sweet spot deep within you, penetrating as deep as he can go—making you see flashes of diamonds as Rafe swears he can faintly hear Drake lyrics as the poison consumes him, losing everything—losing himself in you.

“FUCK,Y/N! You’re mine, you’ve always fucking been mine—”

You cum around him at that exact moment, walls breaking free as he spills out into you, each of you literally screaming—holding on for dear life.

“It’s only ever going to be me, I promise.”

Vision still black—Rafe’s breath on your neck like silk when his lips attach to your skin there; the sweetest thing you’d ever felt. Your boy.

Yours.

Not that stupid bitch that sat next to you in Chemistry senior year who went on and on about how Rafe ate her out in the Island Club bathroom—

Or that chick you’d met on the beach last summer who you’d walked in going down on him in the bathroom at one of Kelce’s party’s— not even that girl he’d brought to Midsummers, happily dangling her around him like arm candy all night.

He was yours.

He kisses your neck a few times.

“I could fucking stay in you forever…”

He leans his forehead down on your neck to watch himself slowly pull out of you, a mix of you and him dripping down to the floor in the process, his mouth hanging wide open at the sight, a tiny little delicate gasp leaving your lips as the feeling.

“Fucking ruined…” he whispers dazily.

You’re lost in the thrill of it all— the feeling of his arms still around you, still holding you tightly to him— already dreaming and aching for him again.

You both stay like that a moment, eyes closing as you feel Rafe take your chin in his fingers guiding your head back to him, back to his lips, moaning when they collide.

He basks in it for a moment before the relentless determination returns— before the jealousy returns — this time with a fateful vengeance.

He presses his lips tightly against yours before breaking away, leaving you dizzy from the loss of contact as he grabs your bikini and t-shirt, tossing them to you.

You barely attempt to catch them as you sputter out words.

“Rafe what’re you—”

“Get dressed, Y/N/N”

“Whe—”

“We—” he points between you two, anger and rage so apparent, so easily riled up within him making you want to grin from ear to ear.

“—are going back to the club so I can tell your boy that if I catch him even so much as looking at you again I’ll break his fucking neck—”

Your hand flies up to your mouth but it doesn’t at all cover the shrill fit of giggles you break out into.

When Rafe turns to see that trademark smirk appear on your lips, feigned innocence dripping off your naked body—he knows you’re up to no good.

Guess it’s your turn to come clean before he full on whoops the boy's ass bloody for no damn reason.

“I was never even texting Joey earlier…”

And the one last smug, bratty look up at Rafe confirms it all as he looks into the eyes of God himself: he’s in love with his best friend.

“I meant to text you that picture earlier, Rafe…”

...

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ao719 · 11 months

Text

…Sometimes Not (Part 4)

Watching, Waiting Patiently

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #2, “Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.”

Song inspo: Let the New Begin - CHPTRS

A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)

Rating: T • Warnings: None but some mild language.

Word count: 2500

Catch up here

Sitting inside his home office, Gideon flipped through paperwork on an early Saturday afternoon; the penthouse, which a few hours earlier consisted of Catherine and his sister Elsie chattering loudly over breakfast before going to meet Reyna, was now quiet.

Hearing his phone, Gideon kept his eyes on his papers as he blindly reached for it, lifting the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, old friend.”

Gideon smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “Constantine,” he said with amusement in his tone. “Isn’t it past your bedtime there?”

“It’s only 7:30, you ass.”

A rumble of laughter erupted from Gideon. “As I said …”

Constantine chuckled. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Trying to lessen my Monday workload by doing some today. How are you and Regina?”

“I can’t complain, and Regina is well,” Constantine replied. “How’s Catherine?”

“She’s good. She and Elsie went out with Reyna this morning.”

“Ah,” Constantine said. “Wedding planning, I gather?”

“Trying.”

Constantine heard the shift in his friend’s tone. “Why do you sound bothered?”

Gideon sighed. “I’m not bothered. Reyna just seems to be … stalling.”

“How so?”

“They went to look at a venue today because she needs to choose one in order to choose a date,” Gideon explained.

“She hasn’t set a date yet?”

“No. And today’s visit will be the fifth place they’ve gone to look at over the past few months. They’ve already been to The Plaza Hotel, The Pierre, the Cipriani Wall Street, and — the groom’s top pick, probably because he’s not paying for it — 620 Loft & Garden, all of which are undoubtedly the most high-end and sought-after wedding venues in the city … but she has said no to all.”

“And her reasons?”

“She says ‘they don’t feel right,’” Gideon said, repeating his daughter’s words.

“Hmm,” Constantine hummed in thought. “Perhaps she wants something less … grand.”

“Well, the place they went to look at today, Blue Hill At Stone Barns, is still high-end, but more … laid back.”

“I’m sorry … did you say barn?”

“It’s not an actual barn,” Gideon scoffed. “Think of it more like … one of your fancy countryside estates. It sits outside the hustle and bustle of the city, a very nice venue. But I have no doubts that Catherine will be back soon and will say that Reyna found something wrong with it.”

“They’ve been engaged, what, nearly a year?” Constantine asked.

“Yes,” Gideon answered. “Which isn’t that long. Luca, however, seems to be growing a tad impatient as of late.”

“Has Reyna said what kind of place she’s looking for? What would make it feel right to her?”

Gideon sighed. “I think you and I both know that the venue has nothing to do with it not feeling right.” Constantine fell into an agreeable silence. “Speaking of … how’s Liam?”

Constantine and Gideon had monthly phone conversations, keeping each other up to date on their lives and that of their children. They never shared the updates with Liam or Reyna, however, per their requests.

It had been two months since Liam’s divorce had been finalized. Gideon’s initial inclination was to tell Reyna after Constantine shared the news, but he reluctantly agreed when Catherine said they couldn’t; she told him that if she was going to find out, it needed to be on her own and not because he was trying to meddle.

Meddling. It was a fair accusation.

Gideon made his concerns about Reyna’s decision to accept Luca’s proposal no secret to his wife. To him, it felt rushed and for all of the wrong reasons. And despite knowing that learning of the changes in Liam’s life could potentially alter her decision, he knew she needed to see things differently on her own.

Reyna had said she didn’t want to rush the engagement, but after nearly a year, Luca seemed to be pushing her to set a date, just like he pushed her to put that announcement in the Times. And she was going along with it as best she could, looking at multiple venues over the last few months, even caving and buying a few bridal magazines to make herself appear more interested than her father believed her to be, but she had yet to make any actual decisions.

Gideon wasn’t upset that Reyna had yet to plan any of this wedding; his frustrations stemmed from knowing that deep down, she was stalling for a reason, one she refused to acknowledge because she felt guilty and, in a way, obligated. He and Catherine both knew it, but they also knew she needed to navigate this on her own. He would step in when he needed to — if he needed to.

According to the updates from Constantine over the last two years, Liam, like always, had been a mask of stoicism; even after what happened with Drake and Riley, he carried on as a paragon of emotionless perfection. That was up until a month ago when Leo pushed his brother to finally open up about how he was really doing. Liam completely broke down, not about his divorce and what had led to it … but about how much he missed Reyna. According to what Leo told Constantine, he’d never seen Liam that upset before.

Knowing that Liam was still affected so much by the absence of her in his life more than two years after the fact tugged on both of the fathers’ heartstrings. And Gideon knew, even though he was the one thing she never talked about with him or anyone else, that Reyna was still affected by Liam’s absence as well. He knew not only because of his fatherly instincts but because he happened to stumble across a journal while helping her move into her apartment; he never spoke of the pages he glimpsed when it fell open on the floor from a box of books he’d been carrying.

Both Gideon and Constantine knew that the things Liam and Reyna had gone through would have been easier had they had one another to lean on, and in hindsight, probably wouldn’t have happened at all. Yet here they were, over two years with no contact, and both internally miserable.

A while after ending his call with Constantine, Gideon was sitting in the living area of the penthouse. The elevator doors slid open, and Catherine stepped out. “Hi,” he said as he stood to greet her.

Catherine smiled as he kissed her cheek. “Hello.”

“Well …?” Gideon asked as he drew back.

Catherine shook her head. “It was a no.”

*******

•Three Months Later•

Gideon stood in front of the elevator as Catherine, Reyna, and Elsie piled inside with their luggage. They were headed out of town for a girls’ weekend after the two elders deemed that Reyna, despite insisting she was fine, needed some time away from the city.

“Have fun,” Gideon smiled. “And be safe. Call me when you get there.”

“Stop being such a worry wart,” Elsie playfully scoffed before the doors started to close.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Gideon turned on his heels and hurried down the hall to his home office. He picked up the phone, quickly dialing the number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Constantine,” Gideon said as he sat in his chair. “How are you?” The two briefly caught up on their busy lives in the few weeks since they last spoke. “And how is the family?” he asked.

“They’re well.”

“How’s Liam been?”

“Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting, but he’s pushing through, like always. How’s Catherine?”

“She’s well,” Gideon answered.

“And Reyna?”

“She’s good,” Gideon replied, then there was a pause. “She’s one of the reasons I called. I have news …”

“Has she finally picked a date? Is this my official invitation?” Constantine chuckled.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” Gideon fell quiet for a moment. “She ended the engagement …”

“Oh?” Constantine perked up. “Did … did something happen?”

Gideon explained how last week, Luca had taken it upon himself to look into a destination wedding without talking to Reyna about it … until after he booked it. He went on to say that he was tired of her “dragging her feet” and that he wanted to marry her “sooner rather than later.” That seemed to have snapped something into place for Reyna, realizing that nothing felt right because it wasn’t right, not for her at least. She ended both the engagement and relationship.

With a box of her favorite gourmet cupcakes in hand, Gideon stopped by her apartment on his way home from work the following evening. While picking at a decadent red velvet treat, Reyna told him she should have ended things sooner, that she never should have accepted the proposal to begin with. When he asked why, she said that she’d not been fair, that he was a consolation prize, and it was guilt that made her stay.

Gideon didn’t ask who he was second runner-up to. He didn’t need to.

“How is she holding up?” Constantine asked.

“Good, all things considered,” Gideon replied. “She seems … lighter than she has in a while, no longer holding onto that guilt.”

“Good … that’s good to hear.”

The two men fell silent, each able to tell the other’s wheels were turning just as their own were. Finally, Gideon cleared his throat. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Indeed. It’s time.”

********

Constantine drummed his fingers against the mahogany surface of his desk, staring at the door to his study as he waited.

It had been five months since Constantine and Gideon decided to secretly conspire. They waited a month or so, allowing things for Reyna to settle a bit before they began trying.

At first, it started with phone calls, purposely phoning the other for “casual conversation” when Liam and Reyna were around. They hoped that it would ignite some spark of curiosity, enough to get the two of them to talk. It seemed to rouse something; Constantine would catch Liam staring at him while he spoke to Gideon, and Gideon would catch Reyna lingering when she would normally excuse herself to give him privacy. The two fathers quickly realized, however, that the almost three years that had passed since they last saw or spoke had created a barrier of awkwardness that stopped them from reaching out.

They thought about telling them about the changes the other had gone through — Liam’s divorce and Reyna ending her engagement — to maybe help coax them into that first step. They couldn’t, though, not without drawing suspicion from Catherine and Regina should they find out. They wouldn’t be pleased with the two of them meddling.

After a couple of months, when the phone calls failed to make headway, Gideon and Constantine shifted their plan to try to work out an “impromptu” visit. Schedules had not been aligning, however. With both Liam and Reyna constantly on the go, it seemed nearly impossible without making it blatantly obvious.

Until now.

When Catherine fell ill with a bout of the flu, unable to attend a charity event in Paris as a member of its board, Gideon convinced Reyna to go in her stead; she’d done it before.

Now the ball was in Constantine’s court. He needed to get Liam to Paris, and the timing with his schedule couldn’t have worked out better.

A knock on his study door had Constantine sitting up straight before calling for them to enter. A moment later, Liam stepped inside. “Hello,” he smiled. “You asked to see me?”

“I did,” Constantine nodded. “How’d the council meeting go?”

“Good,” Liam answered. “I was given the last of the budget reports from the duchies. Now, I’m officially on vacation.” He’d taken a much-needed two weeks off.

“About that …” Constantine smiled sheepishly. When Liam’s expression fell, he held up his hands defensively. “You can say no.” I’m really hoping you don’t. “The Cordonian Art Gallery opening is in a few weeks, and there is a French dignitary who has a piece he’d like to donate.”

“Ok …” Liam furrowed his brow. “And?”

“He wants to donate it to you … directly. In-person … in Paris. And this week is the only time he’s available before the opening. The piece … it’s an original Monet. I don’t think I need to tell you how prestigious that could be for the gallery to have on display.”

“Why does he want to donate it directly? Why can’t he just draw up a promissory note?”

“I think he wants to use the opportunity for a photo op with the King, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Constantine chuckled. Liam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I know you were looking forward to doing nothing. But you can still do nothing in Paris. Who doesn’t like a little getaway to The City of Light?”

Liam met his gaze; the art gallery was a project his father had taken on after he found out he was in remission two years ago, wanting to keep himself busy. He knew how important this opening was to him, and what a big part the pieces it displayed would play in its success.

Constantine’s phone rang, and he looked down. “That’s him now …” He glanced back at Liam with a hopeful flicker in his eyes.

“Fine,” Liam sighed. “When can he meet?”

“Let’s ask,” Constantine grinned before reaching down and lifting the receiver to his ear. “Mr. Moreau! How are you?” His eyes flickered to Liam and he waved him over. “He just walked into my study. Hold on.”

When the call was placed on speaker, Liam leaned against the desk. “Hello, Mr. Moreau.”

“Bonjour, Votre Majesté!”

Liam startled; the man’s greeting was loud and … enthusiastic. “My father tells me you have a piece you’d like to donate to his gallery?”

“Oh, oui oui! Ze most exquisite! I promise, eet eez really worth eet!”

Liam’s gaze snapped up to his father and his eyes widened at the now thick — and strange — French accent he spoke with. “Uh … yes, so I’ve heard.” He cleared his throat. “Is there a particular day that works better for you to meet?”

“You come tomorrow and I let your papa know! Au revoir pour le moment!”

The line went dead.

Liam stood upright. “You’re joking, right?”

“He’s just … eccentric,” Constantine said.

“What the hell was wrong with his voice?”

“Don’t be rude,” Constantine admonished. “It’s just how he talks.”

“He didn’t even give me an exact day!” Liam scoffed.

“So, just go tomorrow … take some time for yourself, enjoy Paris, and I will be sure to be in touch with him and let you know, no later than the middle of the week.”

Liam sighed as he turned. “You owe me.”

Constantine held back his smile until Liam disappeared into the hallway; he stepped around his desk and moved to the door. When he peered out to make sure Liam was gone, he spotted his eldest son coming down the hall.

Leo tipped his head to him in greeting, and Constantine returned it. “Mr. Moreau.”

“Bonjour!” Leo snorted. “I can’t believe he actually bought that bullshit. He really does need a vacation.”

Constantine chuckled as he slipped back inside and shut his door, hurrying to his desk; he reached for his phone and dialed the number. When Gideon answered, Constantine quickly brought him up to speed, letting him know Liam would be heading to Paris sometime tomorrow.

“Reyna left this afternoon,” Gideon said. “I set her up in the hotel across from the one you said Liam normally stays at when he’s there.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Constantine asked.

“We did our part. Now it’s up to nostalgia and fate …”

***************************************

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