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#then his beard and shaggy hair making him soft
domesticatedangel · 5 months
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im crying im actually crying
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alltheirdamn · 9 days
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Couch Chronicles | One Shot
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Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller
Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: strictly smut, established relationship, threesome, mmf dynamic, heavy kissing, a stupid amount of neck kissing, nipple play, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, choking, rough sex, cum eating, deepthroat, unprotected piv sex, multiple creampies, degrading kink (very mild), praise kink, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babygirl), language, men whimpering (i know) A/N: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends... yeah, you guys know how it goes. idk I had an idea, tossed some words together, and here we are. not my finest work and probably a lil shitty in terms of technicality, but I was craving a good trip to Paris.
Masterlist | Ko-fi
You were lying in bed with Frankie one night, scrolling through social media, when you came across a new post from Benny. It was from a recent fishing trip down to the lake, and he was shirtless, holding a large trout in his hand. You tapped on the screen twice, liking the photo and spending an extra few seconds staring at his tall frame and shaggy blonde hair doused in sunlight. 
“You know he is pretty cute,” you said aloud, showing Frankie the photo.
Frankie and Benny were close, best friends even. You had spent time with him here and there over the years at barbecues and small group settings. He was always friendly and welcomed you into the group with open arms. You and Frankie had been dating for a while now, and you were well aware of his past with the group of men and the missions they had gone on. But now he was home for good, making a living for himself and staying clean. 
“Do you ever think about fucking him?” Frankie asked casually, glancing from the screen to your face.
“Frankie, oh my God!” You gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You gaped at him, shutting off your phone and placing it on the nightstand.
“Hey, I wasn’t asking to start an argument,” he said coolly. “It was a genuine question.”
You shrunk into the pillows, turning to face him. He nestled against his own pillow, holding your gaze and giving you a small grin. His hair had grown shaggy at the ends, sticking up behind his ears and curling at the base of his neck. You lifted a hand to scratch at the patchy beard covering his jaw, biting your lip as you navigated a response in your head.
“No, I haven’t thought about it,” you exhaled. “Okay, maybe I have once or twice. Fuck—I don’t know. Not in a fuck him and leave you type of way.”
“You know I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Frankie replied. “Fuck him, I mean.”
“What?” You balked, eyes growing wide.
He only shrugged his shoulders, shifting close to you in the bed.
“He’s my best friend. I’d trust him with you.”
“You’re not seriously telling me right now you want me to sleep with Benny.”
“I’m not telling you to do it,” Frankie argued. “Just saying, if you ever want to explore it, tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, too.”
Your face burned bright red at the thought of Benny fantasizing about you. There was no way. Frankie was messing with you.
“None of this bothers you?” You questioned.
Frankie laughed softly, hooking an arm around your leg and guiding it over his hip. You shuffled your body closer until you were both a breath apart. 
“Fuck no, baby,” he smirked, his pupils growing bigger. “Getting to see one of best friends fuck you would probably only turn me on more.”
You felt him growing harder against you, and you reached a hand down to palm his cock through his pajama bottoms. Frankie let out a soft whine, bucking his hips into your hand.
“Would you just sit back and watch?” You quirked an eyebrow. 
“I’d do whatever you want.”
Your fingers danced up his pants, teasing his waistband. You gave him a mischievous grin as you trailed lower until your hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his eyes rolling back.
“What if I want both of you?” You asked, pumping him slowly. “At the same time?”
Something carnal flashed across his features, and he crawled on top of you, running his mouth up your neck. You arched into him, using both hands to pull down his pants. Frankie did the same to you, tugging your sleep shorts down your legs and exploring the wetness collecting between your inner thighs.
“Pretty girl wants to get tag-teamed?” He teased. “Yeah, I can make that happen.”
You gasped at his words and let him fuck you mercilessly the rest of the night. 
You had zero clue what Frankie had told Benny, but later that week, you were situated on the couch between their warm bodies, watching some action movie. Benny kept a respectable distance while Frankie’s hand remained on your thigh, drawing slow circles over your bare skin. You were wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts, your nerves buzzing through your body. 
You barely had the capacity to pay attention to the movie, your eyes shifting between both of the men sitting on either side of you. Frankie leaned over after a while, his breath hot against your neck.
“You call the shots, pretty girl. Whatever you wanna do, it’s your choice,” he muttered into your ear.
You let out a small gasp, glancing over at Benny. He was sitting relaxed against the couch; his legs spread open and muscular arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes trailed up his thick neck, studying his tensed jaw covered in days-old stubble and blue eyes that remained focused on the screen. You weren’t the shy type, but initiating this type of situation was way out of your comfort zone.
“Benny?” You whispered.
His gaze slid to you, his pupils already dilated.
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he said your name.
You sucked in a breath, mustering the courage to take it to the next step. 
“Kiss me,” you demanded, though it sounded a bit sheepish.
He flicked his gaze to Frankie, then back to you. Reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair, he reeled you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered at the feel of his mouth against yours, his approach far rougher than what you were used to with Frankie. His tongue intertwined with yours as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his other hand sliding up your thigh. 
Frankie’s mouth connected with the other side of your neck, sucking marks into your flushed skin as you let out another helpless whine.
“Fuck,” Benny panted, guiding your head toward Frankie.
Frankie was quick to capture your mouth, his tongue tracing the saliva still lingering on your lips. You gasped as Benny’s mouth trailed up your neck, drawing his tongue over the erratic pulse under your jaw. 
“This what you want, baby?” Frankie asked before sinking his teeth into the plush skin of your bottom lip.
You gave him an eager nod of your head, and he brought his hand up to tilt your head, both of their mouths now hot and wet against either side of your throat. The throbbing between your thighs grew painful, and you squirmed against their roaming hands; Benny’s hand crawled up to cup your breast, Frankie’s hand teasing your aching clit over your shorts.
“Jesus Christ,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the couch. 
“Call the shots, pretty girl,” Frankie ordered. 
You bucked your hips against his hand, searching for any form of friction to alleviate the pressure building inside your core. Benny tugged at the t-shirt covering your torso, his breath going ragged as he discovered you bare beneath the soft cotton.
His head dipped down to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, grinding them against your skin until you cried out from the pleasure mixing with pain. Oh, Benny was rough, and it only made you ache for more of his touch.
You glanced down at the same time his gaze lifted to yours, a grin tugging at his lips as he realized how much you liked it. Frankie, meanwhile, was working at sipping his fingers between your wet folds, sinking two fingers knuckle deep. 
“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Frankie’s fingers worked fast inside you; he knew what to do to make you completely fall apart.
But now you had another man working at you in tandem, Benny’s mouth still ravaging your breast. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails raking over his scalp. He let out a groan of approval, rewarding you with another bite of his teeth around your nipple.
“Feels…so fucking good…” You whispered to both men.
Frankie angled his hand so that he could push his fingers deeper, curling them against the spongy spot inside you. Searing heat coursed through your veins with each movement of his fingers, your breath coming out short and pained.
A dangerous idea floated through the fog inside your brain, and you wondered how far you could push it at the expense of your wanton needs. Tugging Benny’s hair, he released your nipple with a gentle pop and moved his lips back to yours. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth before diving your tongue into his mouth. Benny let out a shallow exhale, letting you steer the kiss in whatever direction you wanted. 
“Benny,” you whined. “I want your tongue inside me.”
He cursed under his breath and looked over at Frankie, who was still working you closer to the edge. Frankie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. He pulled his fingers from you, lifting them to your mouth.
“Clean them, pretty girl,” he ordered. 
You wrapped your mouth around his thick fingers, the salty, sweet taste of your arousal coating your tongue. You pulled your head back and looked at Benny with a lifted brow.
“Wanna taste?” You asked with a coy smile.
You expected him to pull you in for a kiss, to taste it from your mouth, but your breath stalled as you watched him grip Frankie’s wrist and guide his fingers into his mouth. Your jaw dropped open as Benny sucked on Frankie’s fingers with fervency, his eyes locked on your boyfriend. This was new. Frankie grunted as Benny dragged his tongue over the pads of his fingers, finally releasing them and settling back into the couch.
“Come here, baby,” Frankie said, shuffling his body back against one side of the couch.
He maneuvered you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Through heavy lids, you watched Benny tear away his shirt and put his defined abs on display. You and Frankie had been to a few of his boxing matches, and you were more than familiar with the toned figure he hid under his basic t-shirts. Your eyes roamed down his torso, studying the way his chest hair flourished between his sternum and trailed down his abdomen. You involuntarily wet your lips at the sight, wanting to take your tongue and trace every flexed muscle on his body.
“Spread your legs for me, babygirl,” Benny instructed. Hearing him call you babygirl had your mind reeling. 
You let your legs fall open and watched as Benny shuffled back to situate himself between your thighs. Frankie’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples until you gasped at the stinging pain. You tilted your head back, arching upward to meet his lips. Frankie responded with a sloppy kiss, his nose brushing over yours at the same time Benny’s tongue flicked over your aching clit.
“Fuck!” You cried, the word muffled in Frankie’s mouth.
Frankie let out a low chuckle and intertwined his fingers through the tendrils of your hair, forcing you to look down at Benny.
“Watch him while he tongue fucks you, baby,” Frankie commanded. 
Your breath hitched, and Benny took that as his opportunity to dive his tongue deep inside you. Sparks of pleasure erupted behind your eyes, and it took all your strength to keep your focus on him as he worked his tongue deeper. His eyes shot up to yours, the pale blue of his irises swallowed by his pupils. 
“Do you like that pretty girl?” Frankie crooned in your ear. “You enjoy having us both giving you all this attention?”
“Yes,” you panted, your chest rising and falling steadily as warmth spread through your stomach.
“Tell Benny how much you like it.”
Your eyes rolled back as Benny traced over your wet folds with his tongue, the heat of his mouth against your cunt sending you into a spiral. 
“I—.” You choked on your words as Benny’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue sending sharp rhythmic flicks across the aching bundle of nerves.
“Tell him,” Frankie growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good, Benny,” you gasped. “Please don’t stop… Please. Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close.”
Your words were melding together, a jumble of incoherent mumbling and humiliating whimpers. Frankie’s hand squeezed your throat tighter, restricting your breathing as Benny coaxed your orgasm closer to the surface. With Frankie’s hand around your neck and Benny’s tongue assailing your cunt, the overstimulation began to spread through your veins. 
“I know you’re close, pretty girl,” Frankie whispered in your ear. “I can feel how tense you are. Let it go, baby. Cum for us.”
His words sent the heavens crashing down around you, and your body seized upwards as your orgasm ignited a fire that raged under your skin. Benny lapped at the arousal pooling out of you, humming in satisfaction as a strangled cry left your lips. 
“Doesn’t my girl taste good, Benny?” Frankie murmured, releasing his grip on your throat.
“Fucking perfect,” Benny grinned.
You leaned your head back against Frankie’s chest, seeing his big brown eyes sparkle with lust. 
“Frankie, baby,” you whispered. “Why don’t you have a taste, too?”
Frankie started to shift you off his lap, but you pressed yourself further into his chest, leaving him looking at you confused. You glanced down at Benny and gave a subtle lift of your chin as if to silently coax him from between your thighs. He followed your lead, crawling up your body until he hovered over you and leaned in close. He braced himself against the couch with one arm while snaking the other around Frankie’s neck. You careened your neck to watch as their mouth collided, Frankie’s aquiline nose smashing against Benny’s cheek for a frenzied kiss. Frankie submitted to Benny’s control, whimpering as their tongues danced together. Your jaw went slack as you watched your boyfriend passionately kiss his best friend; oh, you fucking loved this.
Benny tore away from Frankie’s lips, bending down to trail his lips over your jaw and neck. 
“I think your man wants some attention, babygirl,” he muttered against your warm skin.
“I think so, too,” you agreed, breathless.
Both men maneuvered off the couch, taking their time to undress, while you sat back and admired both of their naked bodies. Frankie was soft in all the right areas, his dark chest hair spread across his broad torso and trailing down over the soft pudge of his stomach. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, already glistening with precum as it leaked from the tip. Your eyes shifted over to Benny, your eyes growing wide at the length of his hardened cock. While Frankie’s cock was sizable in girth, Benny made up for it with length, and the thought of his cock deep inside you only spurred you closer to another orgasm. You needed one of them to fuck you, or else you’d go crazy.
“Baby,” you whined, shuffling your body up on the couch.
Frankie gave you a smirk, the creases in the corner of his eyes appearing as he looked down on you. You snaked a hand down your navel, your fingers slipping between the wet folds as you sought out some sort of relief from the throbbing need inside you. 
Benny moved around the side of the couch, his strong hands hooking under your shoulders and dragging you back until your head hung over the arm of the couch. Upside down, you stared up at his cock as it hovered over your face. You wet your lips at the sight of it, waiting for him to inch closer. Gliding a hand over your strained neck, his fingers squeezed the right above the base of it.
“I wanna feel my cock right here, babygirl,” Benny said. “You gonna show me you can take it?”
“Yes,” you breathed.
You dropped your jaw open, your tongue darting out as you waited for him to step forward. Frankie’s body weight dropped on the couch above you, his hands lifting your legs onto his shoulder. As your calves settled onto his broad shoulders, Frankie lined himself up with your entrance. In one quick thrust, Frankie bottomed out, and you let out a raspy moan. Before you had a chance to make another sound, Benny slid his cock into your mouth, your tongue dragging against the veins along the length. You sputtered around him as he drove deeper down your throat, his fingers still massaging your neck with each shallow thrust. 
Frankie’s thrusts grew harder, and your muffled cries were silenced as Benny continued snapping his hips forward into your mouth. 
“Ain’t she so pretty like this?” Frankie grunted through each drive of his cock.
“So fucking pretty,” Benny huffed. You swallowed around him, forcing him to choke on his words. “She’s taking our cocks so well. Her mouth feels so fucking good.”
You keened at their words, arousal blooming deep within your stomach as they spoke. They were using your body any way they wanted, and you were desperate for their praise. 
“You enjoy getting used like this, baby?” Frankie asked, his voice low and strained. 
You couldn’t respond as Benny plunged his cock further down your throat, your jaw straining to take his length deeper. You could feel the tears cascading down your temples, your breath forced out of your nose as you struggled under his hold. 
“Aw, pretty girl can’t talk?” Frankie taunted. 
Frankie lifted your ass off the couch, his warm hands squeezing the supple skin as you began assaulting you with unforgiving thrusts. Your cunt clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper until the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. You wailed a helpless cry, saliva dripping over Benny’s cock and down your cheeks. 
Your eyes blurred as your climax grew into an inferno inside your stomach. Each thrust on either side of your body plummeted your orgasm closer and closer to the surface, your heartbeat thrumming erratically in your ears. Benny hunched over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching around your nipples. You arched off the couch, and Frankie kept his grip tight on your hips as he continued railing into you.
“Gonna be a good girl and cum for us, baby?” Frankie crooned.
“Mmmph.” 
You couldn’t speak. You could barely make a coherent noise as your orgasm ignited inside of you, leaving you paralyzed—suspended between the bodies of two men that continued to wreck you completely as you came undone. 
“Such a good fucking girl,” Frankie praised.
“Think she deserves a reward?” Benny questioned, drawing his cock from your mouth.
You heaved in lung-fulls of air, drool still dripping down your face. Benny crouched behind you, his hand fisting your hair to pull your face forward toward Frankie. Frankie’s dark eyes met yours, and he pounded deeper into you, your cries turning into humiliating whimpers.
“You want Frankie to cum inside you, babygirl?” Benny whispered, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear.
“Y—yes,” you wailed brokenly. “Please, Frankie. Need your cum.”
Frankie’s face scrunched up with concentration as he changed the tempo of his thrusts; they were slower and more powerful. Benny’s grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to look anywhere but at Frankie. His tousled dark curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his jaw clenched as he forcibly thrust into you in one final time. With a carnal groan, Frankie emptied himself inside you, slumping onto your chest with labored breaths. 
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groaned. 
Benny unwound his fingers from the tendrils of your hair, peppering your cheek and neck with kisses. Frankie lifted his head to look at Benny, and you could faintly see a smirk teasing the corner of his hips.
“I think she can take a bit more. What do you say, Benny?” Frankie grinned.
“I wanna know how good that pussy feels. You gonna let me fill you up, too?” Benny asked, his teeth grazing your neck.
“God, yes,” you exhaled.
Frankie climbed off your body and maneuvered you onto all fours. Your legs wobbled against the cushions, Frankie’s cum slowly leaking from your sore cunt. Benny made his way around the couch, climbing behind your shaking body. Frankie took his spot in front of you, his large hands cupping your face and wiping away the excess saliva that still coated your cheeks and nose.
“Look at the mess you made, pretty girl,” Frankie mumbled, his eyes dancing over you ravenously. 
He leaned in to kiss you, drawing his tongue over your wet lips. You moaned into his open mouth, your body tensing up with anticipation as Benny coated the head of his cock with the wetness leaking from your entrance. 
“Eyes on me, baby,” Frankie ordered, pulling away from your mouth. “I wanna watch you while Benny ruins that perfect pussy.”
That was all Benny needed to hear before he broke you up, the stretch of your cunt around his cock blindingly painful for the first few seconds. Your mouth fell open as his hips pressed against your ass, every glorious inch of him stretching you wide open. A choked gasp fell from your lips as Frankie held your focus, his brown eyes watching with fervid attention. 
“Benny,” Frankie said, never breaking away from your eyes. “Fuck her hard.”
Benny replied with a forceful snap of his hips that sent your body colliding with the couch. You screamed out at the savage pace he set, each connection of his hips against yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and sobs.
“So fucking tight and perfect,” Benny huffed between each drive of his cock. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”
“She’s all mine, Benny,” Frankie reminded him. “But I think she enjoys being shared.”
You nodded vigorously, flames licking up your nerves as Benny steered you closer to another orgasm. Your nails dug into the cushions, half-moon indentations left in their wake. 
“I want you both,” you panted. “Like this.”
“Yeah, babygirl?” Benny exhaled, bending his body over yours to kiss up your spine.
Frankie dragged you in for a long kiss, a moan exhaling from his mouth into yours. You were drunk on their touch, each hand roaming your body, every kiss, every lust-filled word. You couldn’t get enough.
“Cum inside me, Benny,” you pleaded. 
Benny’s arm braced around your torso, pulling you up until your back was flush with his chest. Frankie climbed over the arm of the sofa, his hands sweeping back the hair from your face. Benny brought his free hand up to Frankie, tugging at his curls until he shuffled closer. Frankie tilted his chin up and met Benny’s lips, their kisses slow and impassioned. Both of their body’s pressed harder against yours, Benny’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly, his thrusts shallow and short. You licked a path up Frankie’s neck, startling a gasp from him as Benny deepened their kiss.
The muscles in Benny’s arms flexed around your chest, his hips snapping hard one last time before his release was painting your insides. You were so fucking full of them both, your body coursing with adrenaline and pleasure. Benny slipped out of you, breaking away from Frankie’s lips and falling back against the couch. 
“Come here, babygirl,” Benny urged, outstretching his arms.
You glanced at Frankie for permission—which was comical as the mixture of their cum leaked down your inner thighs. Frankie gave you a soft smile, peking your lips before guiding you down onto the couch. 
Benny wound his arms around your trembling body, pressing a light kiss on the crown of your head, while Frankie settled against your body on the other side. You nestled into the warmth of their bodies, your eyes drifting shut from exhaustion.
“This was nice,” you hummed, giggling softly. 
“You wanna do it again?” Frankie chuckled, kissing your shoulder.
“Maybe not right now,” you groaned.
The soreness between your legs throbbed violently, and every muscle in your body tense and stiffened. You stretched out between them, feeling both men’s heartbeats pounding against your body.
“I love you, baby,” Frankie muttered into your skin.
“I love you, too,” you exhaled.
Lifting your chin to look at Benny, you watched him eye Frankie knowingly. You could see the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, his lips parted and swollen.
“You love him, too,” you commented.
“Yeah, maybe I do,” Benny said absentmindedly.
Benny’s gaze slid down to you, and you saw it in his eyes. The passion between them, the cohesiveness of their movements with you; it was all right there. You always thought Benny loved Frankie like a brother, but maybe there was something more. You weren’t jealous; you were far from it. You wanted them both, maybe in different ways, but still… you wanted them.
“Would you do this again?” You asked, partially to both of them.
“Absolutely,” Frankie said, at the same time Benny said, “In a heartbeat.”
“Stay the night with us, Benny,” you offered. 
“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Benny sighed.
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
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47 + hangman please if you don't mind <33
PROMPT: 47 ''i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me'' Here we go, nonny (I didn't forget about this... I just lost it in my drafts, sorry!) x
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"Babydoll, " Jake smiled, greeting you at the door. His 'time off' beard growing in nicely, hair shaggy and you just loved it messy and a little longer. You were the luckiest person alive, you knew this. Coming home to this specimen? How did he get sexier? Walking into your shared villa feeling as generic as you did almost seemed criminal. "Welcome to Seresin Cocktail Hour. Please leave your bag by the door," he announced. "And clothes are optional," he did a little boogie, wriggling his hips, giving you the sultriest eyes you'd ever seen, barefoot, the drinks in his palms threatening to spill. "How was your day, love of my life?"
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Without even a hello, you dropped your bag at the door miserably and slid out of your shoes, the floorboards already feeling like home. Pouting, shoulders slumped, you sniped, "Rooster called - he wants his shirt back."
Jake looked down at his shirt of choice, unbuttoned, abs on full display. He was not often brutally rebuffed when he greeted you so willingly. And he thought you liked the green palm tree shirt. He was preparing for Hawaii, and your overdue romantic getaway together next week. A little taken back, he realised quickly -
"I didn't get the promotion. Diana did."
"Oh, babydoll," he sighed, sad for you, sure, but not knowing what you wanted to hear. At last correspondence, you were good friends with her. He approached, knowing you weren't going to go to him. He put the glasses on the entry table, disappointed. He stood before you, his warm palm slinking around your neck and massaging the nape, your eyes fluttering closed, breath releasing. You'd been holding it since the announcement, it was nice to finally get air in your lungs again.
"No, this is s a good thing, she deserves it," you put your palms on his chest, your sadness etched all over your face. "Her presentation was just phenomenal. I'm just being a jealous asshole," you sighed, feeling about 3 feet small. It stung, you thought you were the shoo-in for the new role. You were naive to think you wouldn't be challenged and it would be handed to you on a silver platter.
"You worked really hard, baby. It's okay to be down about it," Jake reminded you, bringing you towards him, the stubble on his chin itchy against your forehead.
"It's just been hard to take, I thought I was a sure thing, Jake," you sighed as he wrapped his strong arms around you tenderly, supportively. You slipped your hands around his waist, hidden under his shirt, feeling his scorching, smooth skin. He moaned quietly.
"I know, babydoll," he kissed your hair and felt your body relax into his warmth. He tugged your hair and pressed his strong palms into your spine, wanting to relieve any stresses he could for you. "I'm sorry, what can I do to make you feel better? I'll do anything you want in there," he pointed to the kitchen. "Or there," he pointed towards the stairs, your bedroom, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively. You knew he was trying to make you smile, and you would never admit how much you wanted to do so. You just needed a few more minutes forlorn.
"Jake," you sighed, melting into him and he kissed your hair. "Please."
"Anything," he reiterated. "Can put a hit out if I need to, as well. Know a guy... or two."
You finally let a giggle escape and he beamed. '"I've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me', please?" you took in his cologne and felt every fibre in your body start to uncoil. His lips peppered soft kisses on your face.
"Whatever you need, my love," he told you simply and moved to hold your jaw in his hands. He stared into your eyes intently, his thumbs gentle against cheekbones before lowering his mouth to yours, lips melding, his slick tongue tracing your lips, begging entry. "Lemme taste you," he almost growled against your mouth, gripping the material of your shirt, fingers digging into the flesh beneath it and bringing you closer. "Babydoll..."
"Changed my mind," you admitted. "First you can do whatever I want in there," you nudged your head towards the bedroom and his eyebrow peaked, tongue skimming against his gleaming teeth eagerly. "Then in there," you pointed towards the kitchen.
"Anything your heart desires, ma'am," he breathed and hitched you into his strong arms.
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A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow and turn on notifications x
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avvail-whumps · 3 months
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Royal Bought: Hunting Deer #1
masterlist · next
content warnings: animal hunting, mentioned vampire whump
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It was so quiet in the forest. 
Luke couldn’t even hear the sound of his own, soft, even breathing as he concentrated on the taut pull of the bow string, methodically following the small trot of the deer. It was beautiful - its slender neck leaned down to sniff at the ground, ears twitching occasionally. 
He didn’t even blink, fearing even a flutter of his eyelashes would send the deer scurrying away. It lifted its head back, big, beady eyes observing its surroundings, before Luke struck. He let go of the arrow, and the deer didn’t have time to dart away before it landed in its neck, and he heard the distinctive thud of its body on the ground. 
Luke finally let himself breathe deeply, rising to his feet. The bushes around him rustled as he climbed over them, the snapping of twigs filling the expanse of the desolate forest as he approached with long strides. 
The deer was still breathing, and he gently set his bow down, dropping to one knee beside the creature. His hand gently lay across its torso, feeling the panicked, but slowing rise and fall of its ribcage as it took its final breaths. Luke squeezed his necklace, stroking the creature with such tenderness, staring at his reflection in its eye. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small. The deer’s eyes clouded, and the animal beneath his hand went still. Luke sucked in a deep breath, letting go of his necklace and shucking off his bag. He made quick work of tying its legs, strapping the heavy creature over his back with practiced ease. 
He picked up his bow, and started making his way back before it got dark. The camp came into view quickly enough when he followed the markings he’d left to help him navigate the forest, and as he came down the hill, he noticed Ten sprinting towards him with his stumbling legs and big grin on his face. 
“Luke,” Ten squealed, circling around him to get a look at the deer on his back. “You hunted a deer!” 
Ten was an energetic kid, with his shaggy brown hair and freckled face. It was going to be his eleventh birthday tomorrow, and had insisted that Luke take him out for his first hunting lesson - the kid refused anyone else, and honestly, Luke was flattered. Ten was like a little brother to him, and he always felt happy that the kid admired him so much. 
“Don’t touch it,” he chastised, waving him in front of him where he could see, ushering him back to the camp. “That would be disrespectful.” 
“Oh, tell me you’re gonna save it for tomorrow,” Ten exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he added an energetic spring to his step, skipping backwards. “Please, please.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, playfully shoving him through the gate and back into the camp. A few people greeted him on the way in, and Ten had to pick up his pace in order to match his strides. 
“We’ll have to see what Rian says, alright?” He offered. “But don’t get your hopes up.” 
Ten pouted. “He’ll say no.” 
“Then you’ll have to live with that.” 
After passing off the deer to Rian, the bearded man gave him an appreciative thanks, yet Luke could sense there was indifference in his eyes as he glanced at the white spots on the deer’s neck. Luke had thought he’d been about to mention something about the forest, but he didn’t, and he swiftly left the tent with a sigh of relief. 
“I have a surprise for you,” Luke smiled, squinting as the sun spilled back over him. Ten immediately beamed up at him. 
“You’ll take me hunting with you?” 
He patted his head, shaking his head softly. Even if he was turning eleven years old tomorrow, that was not old enough to hunt anywhere, let alone the surrounding forests. As much as he knew how much Ten wanted to leave the camp, it was incredibly dangerous. He could never let him. He pushed open the flap of his tent, motioning for Ten to come inside. 
He happily made himself comfortable on the furs of his bed, and Luke couldn’t help but smirk softly. “No. I have something even better.” 
He leaned down behind one of the storage boxes, and carefully lifted up something wrapped in cloth. Ten sat up ethustically, his nose up in the air as he tried to lean to the side to get a good view of it. Luke unwrapped the string, peeling the cloth open to reveal a small, newly crafted bow. Ten gasped, shooting to his feet. 
“Is that a—” 
“Yes,” Luke smiled. 
“And that’s for me?” 
He chuckled. “Of course. Too small for me, isn’t it?”
The kid went to snatch it, but then stuck his hands back to his sides, and tried again. This time, he was a lot slower, cradling the bow like it was glass in his hands. His wide eyes were staring at it in shock, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Luke had sacrificed a lot to craft this bow for Ten. He was just glad that he liked it so much. 
“This is…amazing,” he breathed in awe, gently running his finger along the intricate carvings. Luke’s fingers ached just remembering how long it had taken. “What do these mean?” 
He tilted his head, pointing to the first one. “This symbol here is for bravery. This one is my mother’s. As long as you have it near you, it will always give you strength, and you’ll know that you’re not alone. Sometimes, it helps if you find things difficult. It’s like a comfort.” 
Ten slowly nodded his head, taking in everything he was saying. He kept the bow close, lips curling into a giddy smile, as if just realising that it was really going to belong to him. 
“You’ll teach me how to use it tomorrow, right?” He beamed, grinning from ear to ear. Luke nodded his head. 
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Of course I will.” 
Ten’s eyes glistened a little, and he threw his arms aroun Luke’s torso, burying himself into him in a tight hug. Luke’s heart skipped a beat, wrapping his arms around him in turn and giving his messy hair a small ruffle, chuckling softly under his breath. Ten squeezed him tight, as tightly as he could manage, and he didn’t even think about peeling away until a sharp voice called out his name. 
“Luke.” 
Ten lifted his head, and Luke swiftly rose to his feet, placing his hands on Ten’s shoulders just as a woman breached the tent, her expression stern and wrinkled in anger. Luke grit his teeth; he had a feeling he knew what this was about. 
“The Collared Forest, Luke,” Emily hissed, her words dripping with fracticousness. “Where were you thinking?” 
Rian, then. Of course he would tell her. Luke gave a quiet sigh, trying to keep his voice calm. “The deers are complacent. No one lives out there.” 
“You know why we don’t hunt there, Luke,” she snapped harshly. Emily was a tall woman, black braided hair and brown coloured skin. Her eyes were even a strange sort of hazel, almost making them seem orange when the sunlight hit them at a certain angle. It was fitting, considering she always looked like she had fire in her eyes when she was angry. 
“Emily, there are no vampires in the Collared Forest,” he gritted out. “There haven’t been for years.” 
Under his hand, he felt Ten flinch. His eyes instantly softened upon realising the argument was brewing in front of him, and a wave of regret washed over him. Emily’s eyes narrowed, yet she kept her mouth shut. 
“Ten,” he whispered softly, and the kid’s anxious eyes flitted up to him. “Just wait for me outside, okay? Go and play for a little bit. I won’t be long.” 
Ten swallowed, glancing uneasily at Emily, before she stepped out of the way of the entrance of the tent, closer to Luke. He watched Ten scurry out, leaving the two of them alone. Luke’s eyes instantly narrowed into a small glare. 
“A bow?” Emily breathed, her tone laced with bubbling anger. “You gave him a bow?” 
“It’s his birthday tomorrow.” 
“Don’t encourage another foolish imbecile to go into the Collared Forest.” 
Luke gawked at her. “Jesus, Emily. He’s not even old enough to leave camp. I know my way around the closest area of the forest. God knows we need the meat, unless you want us all to starve.” 
The woman’s lip curled into a snarl. He could sense she was trying not to raise her voice, lest the whole camp hear their argument. “You could have been followed.” 
“Vampires can’t get into the camp,” Luke frowned. “Not unless someone invites them in. You and I both know that no one is stupid enough to do that.” 
“You’re not getting it,” she heaved, prodding a finger against his shoulder as she stepped closer, his feet rooted to the ground. He felt his anger flare, but did nothing. “I don’t want the vampires to know where we are. Don’t you know what happened to the human camp across the Corpse River?”
Corpse River. It was many miles from their camp, and it would take weeks of walking just to make it there. It ran all the way to the kingdom of the vampires, and often, people would see the bloated corpses of dead humans, discarded by the vampires, being carried down by the stream, hence its name. Luke had never travelled far enough - it was forbidden. He wasn’t eager to find out if it lived up to its name or not either. 
On the other side, he was aware there was another human camp. His heart sank a little at the mention of them, swallowing uneasily. 
“What?” He breathed. 
Emily let out a sharp breath through her nostrils, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It was desimated by vampires five days ago. They slaughtered everyone within there.” 
Luke’s tongue went dry. “But, vampires can’t—” 
“It doesn’t matter,” Emily cut off, her brows furrwoing. “They also believed the vampires couldn’t get in. But they did. I will not have the same thing happen to our camp because of you.” 
Luke was still reeling over the fact that their camp had been destroyed. They had everything to ward off vampires, everything to keep them and their powers from straying inside, and their camps had been standing for years upon years. He didn’t know how it was possible. 
“We’re the last human camp,” he murmured softly under his breath, and suddenly the world felt that much smaller. Emily’s eyes softened, just an inch, but it was enough for her gaze to flicker from his face, a deep sigh to fall from her lips. She briefly glanced at the entrance of the tent, before patting his arm once firmly. 
“Stay away from the Collared Forest, Luke,” she warned, her voice firm. Luke bit the inside of his cheek, a grim expression falling across his face. “When we hit a shortage, maybe you should think about teaching Ten to fish instead.” 
She turned away from him, and he watched her go quietly as she left the tent, leaving him alone. His eyes drifted over to his own bow for a few moments, before collapsing down onto his bed, running a weary hand over the back of his skull. It wasn’t a life; being here was living in constant fear, not only of the vampires, but the lack of food and the terrible harvests that were rolling in. Now that the camp across Corpse River had been somehow completely eradicated? 
His hand drifted down to his face, rubbing his eyes. Luke was exhausted - he wasn’t really sure what he should do anymore. It was a cruel world with the existence of vampires, where all they were to them were animals or pets for them to play with. He’d heard horrific horror stories about the lives of human blood bags in the kingdom, and it wasn’t a life he wanted for himself. Luke didn’t want it for anyone. 
As the sun began to dip under the horizon and the sky began to darken, the camp turned in for the night, dousing out their fires and going quiet. Luke struggled to sleep, arms tucked under his head and staring absentmindly at his ceiling. 
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Emily said. 
Eventually, he rolled over, and willed himself to sleep. Just as he began to succumb to the comforting grips of sleep, Ten was quietly sneaking out of his tent, crossing the camp with tiny, soundless steps, his new bow gripped in hand. He had a quiver with a few arrows strapped to his back, squeezing himself through the bars of the gate, before rushing off towards the Collared Forest.
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astarions-bride · 4 months
Note
Hello! May I please have number 26 from the spicy master list with rob? Please and thank you!
Hope you like it! ❤
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“Fuck!” you shrieked, twisting your hands in your own hair at the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, and you were answered with a soft hoarse chuckle.
The man behind you never faltered his brutal pace. Your naked body was slick with sweat and the man’s bare too-warm skin was just as damp and offered no relief. You couldn’t remember how long you’ve been underneath your lover this time, your numerous orgasms making everything blur together, but what you did know was that this was somehow your fault. Rob, the man currently plowing you senseless, had just came home from his most recent expedition where he had a close call with a vicious animal. He wouldn’t go into much detail, and you didn’t ask, but you offered yourself to him as a distraction from the darkness hiding in his normally bright blue eyes. He had jumped at the chance to reacquaint both of your bodies, but his gentle ministrations eventually turned rough and frantic.
His long calloused fingers were dug harshly into your hip to keep you in place and you swore you saw stars every single time he pushed into you. His shaggy hair was loose from its normal half-ponytail and the sensation of the soft strands tickling your oversensitive skin whenever he leaned down to press biting kisses to your shoulders and neck left you wanting to scream. Your world suddenly spun as you were effectively flipped over and you blinked up owlishly at the man hovering above you. His pupils were dilated until you could hardly see the blue, his high cheekbones flushed pink, and his hair was a mess. He hooked your legs around his slender hips, sinking back into your sore and sensitive cunt with a groan, before nuzzling your temple with a softness that made your already pounding heart thud against your ribs.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied hoarsely while wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and he placed a tender kiss to your warm cheek.
“Didn’t think I was going to come back home,” he said gruffly, barely loud enough for you to hear, before starting a slow deep rhythm that had you arching your sore hips into his.
“But you did,” you said softly, placing a kiss to his damp brow, and you could feel some of the tension ease from his body.
“Do me a favor?” he suddenly asked, making you lean back against the disheveled pillows to look at him, and his lips twisted into a small smirk before he leaned down to kiss you.
Tell me you love me as I fuck you,” he said against your mouth.
Your answering whimper was cut short by a sudden sharp thrust as he resumed his frantic pace. You saw stars as you were once more hurtling towards a devastating orgasm.
“Love you…I love you…I love you,” you rambled as he fucked you, his lips biting at yours and his hands leaving bruises against your skin, and you clawed at his back until he was hissing against your mouth.
“Keep on. Don’t stop,” he grunted while hiking your leg higher up on his hips and the new angle had you nearly howling.
It wasn’t long before the warm pressure building low in your pelvis snapped and you came clenching down on his thick cock with a scream of his name. He quickly followed you over the edge, burying himself as deep as he could inside you, and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at the molten heat filling you up. You both stayed joined together until your breathing calmed and your heartbeats slowed to a more normal rhythm. Rob took the time to pepper your face in soft kisses, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle, and you gently pet through his hair.
“You okay?” he eventually asked, leaning back to let his eyes roam over your body and lingering on the bruises already forming on your hips and thighs, and you reached up to press a kiss to the frown curling his lips.
“Never better,” you said with a happy sigh.
Eventually Rob pulled away to clean you both up, his hands gentle and loving on the tender flesh between your thighs, before he climbed back into bed.
You were sprawled out completely limp and he perched himself by your side with a smug smirk as he looked at you.
"Don't even start that," you muttered hoarsely, fighting your own smile, and received a short bark of laughter.
His bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned, long slender fingers tracing lazy shapes across your sternum, and you knew that he could feel the still thundering beat of your heart. Rob drummed his fingertips over your ribs and you weakly swatted his hand away at the ticklish sensation.
"I do think you killed me, though" you said and you felt him place a swift kiss to your temple.
"You're the one who told me to do whatever I want with you," he drawled, low voice even deeper with his desire, and you felt warmth once more pool low in your abdomen at his words.
“That is true…I don’t regret it at all,” you said with a satisfied hum, dragging your body over to curl up against his chest, and you felt him rub soothing circles across your back.
“I’m glad you made it home…maybe you can take a sabbatical? Spend some time home?” you said softly while placing a ginger kiss over the still healing scar over his pectoral that looked suspiciously like sharp teeth.
“Maybe you’re right,” was his answer and you smiled as he kissed the top of your head.
You cuddled closer and let your eyes flutter shut, the strong reassuring beat of his heart lulling you into a complete state of relaxation, and you didn’t miss the way he pulled you even closer to his body.
“Especially if we get to do this more,” he suddenly mused and you didn’t have the energy to swat at him.
“You better be talking about the cuddling, mister,” you teased and his chest vibrated with his low laugh.
“Of course…although the other stuff was good, too,” he said and you rolled your eyes at his playful words.
Rob wrapped his arms around you before you could respond and the soft kiss he placed on your lips had you melting into his arms.
“I’m glad I made it back home to you.”
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romana-after-dark · 4 months
Text
Symptom of Being Human (A Room's on Fire FishBen Bonus Chapter)
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Francisco Morales x Benjamin Miller
Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist
Spotify playlist
Summery: Frankie and Ben share in intimacy
Warnings and Content: Read warnings for the full fic, but for this bonus chapter, repressed queer love, mentions and references of forced breeding and brainwashing Madonna. Poor communication. Deluuuuuusions!
Song fic to Symptom of Being Human by Shinedown, a song found on the spotify playlist for the fic.
***************
I can still remember me and Miss November Rain Beautiful and strange Always so inclined, coloring outside the lines Yeah, you were never on time
Francisco slammed his dresser drawer closed after yanking some pyjamas out. Maybe he kicked it a little, he wasn't sure.
He could sense the moment Ben walked in through the door even if he hadn't heard him. Ben was good at sneaking around.
"Why are you so pissy today."
It was the glib in his voice that irked Francisco the most, the stpring in his step as he padded over to where Francisco was braced over the dresser.
"I'm not pissy." But even still, he stiffened to Ben's touch as he wrapped his arms around his lovers middle.
Benjamin kissed Francisco's neck in an attempt to relax him, closing his eyes to his scent, but Francisco rolled his shoulders and jerked himself out of Ben's grasp, taking two steps away. He hated this, he hated caring so much, he hated it being a secret, he hated having to sneak around when Pope could just have them whenever and however he wanted. It wasn't fair.
Ben's arms dropped to his side. "Hey. What's wrong?" He asked, genuine, but Francisco was still irritated. "C'mon, baby, talk to me..."
The older man scoffs. "You're surprised I don't wanna suck your dick when it's gonna taste like her?"
You've always been slightly awkward, kinda weird Upside down and not all here What's wrong with me and you is crystal clear
Benny's laugh was sardonic. "Oh, is that what the issue is?"
"Yes, that's what the issue is, Ben!"
He wanted to scoff at him, but sensed Francisco wasn't in the mood to be teased for his jealousy. "Frankie, baby," Benny placed a careful hand on Franciscos shoulder, turning him. Frankie faced him, but his head was hanging and not making eye contact. "Baby please look at me." He cupped the patchy beard and coaxed Franciscos face up to look at him.
"You were late..." Frankie mutters, eyes ever-avoidant. "You were late to be with me because you wanted her."
"Frankie..." Ben places a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry, okay? But it's not any different than you and Santi-"
"Yes it is!!!" Frankie steps back, but the bed was right there so he stumbles. Ben reaches for him, both of them falling onto the bed but sitting upright.
Benny's hand is on Francisco's chest. "Easy now..." He kissed the mans cheeks, then the corner of his mouth, then his lips. "I'm doing this for us, okay? The sooner she's pregnant, so sooner we can be together."
Sometimes I'm in a room where I don't belong And the house is on fire and there's no alarm And the walls are melting too How 'bout you?
Francisco was hesitant to believe him, but the way Benny looked at him, adoring blue eyes and his face framed in shaggy, dirty blonde hair... it was hard not to fall into his promises. "What do you mean..."
His eyes lit up, knowing that Francisco was listening. Ben smiled. "Once Madonna has the savior, everything will change, don't you understand?" He grabbed Frank's hand, pulling it to his chest as he scooted closer. "Pope will be so busy, his only focus will be raising the savior with Madonna, fullfiling the prophesy... he'll be too preoccupied with her to want you like that, it can just be us."
Shaking his head, Frank was not convinced. Pope wasn't like that. Pope was obsessive, possessive, he needed everyone and everything to belong to him. "Benjamin, that... I don't think that's what's gonna happen."
"But I do!" Ben was practically bouncing on the bed with excitement; his evergy never ceased to amaze Francisco, constantly animated by the next new exciting thing, but always coming back to Francisco. "Once the savior is born, well, the world will change, Frankie! Things will finally be allowed to be good." He kissed his lovers knuckles. "And what can be more good than us being together?"
Frankie didn't believe any of this for a second. He didn't believe there was a savior, or that they were gods... Ben did, and Benjamin Joseph Miller was an unstoppable force... but Santiago was an immoveable object. Still, as Ben began kissing his lips, his tongue sliding into his mouth, Francisco was, in fact, a moveable object. To Santiago, he was a stoppable force. Franisco felt like the rope in a game of tug of war, and push and pull between the two men in a covert battle.
Ben would never ever outwardly disrespect Pope. Pope was what Ben wanted to be. He admired Pope in a way he used to admire his older brother, long before jealousy and anger and drugs tore them apart. Benjamin would do anything for Santi's approval, and the look on his face when Ben was under him always made Frank jealous... then he had to remind himself that was a rare occurence compared to how often Ben was the voyer in those situations, and how much harder it much be for him knowing how often it happened behind closed doors.
He never even spoke badly about Pope in these intimate moments, Frank learning quickly to not say anything negative about their leader or even hint at disloyalty, because it always turned into a fight. Ben defended their friend to the death. What Ben couldn't understand, however, was that Frankie loved Pope too. Santiago was a good leader, he kept things prosperous in their community and he was like a brother to Frankie. He'd never known a life outside of Pope... but he was not perfect, and he wished Ben could see that. Unfortunately, to Ben, questioning Santi at all meant questioning his infallibility as a God, and if he questioned that... Ben's entire reality fell.
I've never been the favorite, thought I'd seen it all 'Til I got my invitation to the lunatic ball And my friends are coming too How 'bout you? Don't worry, it's all just a symptom of being human
"Benjamin..." Frank moaned into the boys mouth and he palmed him over his jeans.
"Fuck, love when you say my full name."
He knew he was irresistible, he know he was attractive in both looks and charm when he wanted to turn it all, that's why he spent so much time between the legs of women in their commune, on top of Frankie or under Santi. Everyone wanted him, and those that didn't... well, they got him either way.
"Off." Ben ordered, unzipping Frankie's pants and tugging them down when he lifted his hips up. Francisco soon found himself laying down on his bed in his boxers with Ben grinding into him. His pants were still on, the rough material adding to the pressure of their cocks grinding together.
Their hands explored each other's bodies as if this was a new landscape, as it they weren't intimately familiar already. Ben squeezed the soft of his sides as Frankie felt the hard of his chest. It didn't matter how different they were, quiet and loud. Fire, and a gentle flower waiting to be scorched like the earth around it. The flower simply basked in the warmth of the sun, unaware it was withering away.
Unpack all your baggage, hide it in the attic where You hope it disappears This all seems so familiar, but it doesn't feel like home It's just another unknown
Nothing mattered in these moments; Benjamin was the only thing that would calm his racing mind.
Ben sat up, still straddling Francisco and pulled his shirt over his head. Francisco was always mesmerized by this view, the way Benjamin's muscles flexed and moved, the dim light of the shitty lamp casting shadows across his chest. Taught and strong, lean muscles gave way further down to the jutting of his hipbones and golden tan skin. Right at the ends of his abs was a trail of brown hair, much darker than that on his head and face, cut off just barely before his pubic hair by his low-slung jeans.
Frankie couldn't help but gaze up at the sun god... in moments like this, with this view... Francisco could fool himself into believing the god-hood of his paramour. If God was real, Benjamin was his divine gift. Nights alone with him were the closest to heaven that he'd ever be, considering all Francisco had done in his lifetime.
"You're beautiful..." he murmured up him.
Ben's wide grin softened, folding back over Ben to pepper kisses all over Frankie's aged face. "Not as beautiful as you, darl'n"
You've always been slightly awkward, kinda weird Upside down and not all here Right or wrong, it's all so crystal clear
Francisco was not an open person. He didn't let his emotions show, good or bad. Not the way Will expressed his pain or his love, the way Pope expressed his rage, or how Ben expressed his joy. Nothing like that came easy to him. He was aware of the way Madonna watched him pensively, probably wondering why he didn't talk to her, why he didn't fuck her outside of when Pope dragged them together for a threesome...
With Benjamin, he was laid bare, naked and venerable, allowing Benjamin inside him physically and emotionally into the deepest reaches. They were as connected as two people could be, and no one saw Frankie's heart the way Ben did. No one could fill him the way Ben did.
"Perfect, fucking perfect." Ben grunted into Frank's ear as he fucked into his hole, spreading him open. Francisco laid back on the bed, his knees bent and pressed up against his stomach where Ben held there, squeezing his aching member between himself.
Frankie whispers, a contrast to Ben's loud noise, "I love you, Benjamin."
"I love you too, Francisco, don't you ever forget that" Ben moved to his mouth, kissing him and only stopping to mumble against his lips. "She can't compare to you, okay? She doesn't matter. No pussy can compare to you, got it?"
"Got it." He did. Later, when Ben left before daylight and Francisco was there alone in bad, reaching over to Ben's side just to feel the bit of his body heat left behind, doubt would creep in. When he heard Ben bragging to Will about the latest girl he railed over a fence post or against a wall, he would wonder why he wasn't enough for Ben. When he saw his handsome lover trying to fuck a baby into Madonna or kissing Santiago, he'd be reminded that the sex they shared was not unique to Benny, he didn't need him for that.
But as Ben spread his legs, jerking Frankie's weeping cock and thrusting into him, never stopping kissing him, not even long enough for them to breath. He felt like he was Ben's entire world.
The dizzying orgasm made Francisco feel like maybe, just maybe things could be different. Maybe, if Madonna got pregnant, Pope would lose interest in Francisco; what use is someone who couldn't give him children?
Maybe then, him and Ben could hold hands out in the open.
We're all just passing through Passengers on a ship of fools We're all just passing through Passengers on a ship of fools
********************
Not gonna lie, friends in my phone, I teared up writing this.
I write some FishBen on my main, and it's always a lil angsty but happy ending bc they love each other. Deeply. Even when I don't write them romantic, they are very very close, Like in Leather and Lace Universe.
Here, though.... :( they can't be out, they are just angsty and love
Anyway Im obsessed with this song and listened to it for an hour on my drive planning this fic.
Up next, Steve x reader x javi for toxi <3
Please interact with the story in one way or another, im reaching the limit of tags per post so i may be removing people from the tag list if you dont interact at all. I should recognize your name.
How to keep up with the story!
Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)
Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications
Follow the tag Rooms on fire
@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielou5 @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @mjnomaryjane @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @charethcutestory02 @pedroshotwifey
If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!
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thought--bubble · 7 months
Text
It's ok to hurt me, I'm not worth much (one-shot)
Billy Washington X (Store Clerk Reader)
Warnings after the Break
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Full Master list
Billy W. Master list
Banners By: @arcielee
A/N: this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written so please don't judge me too harshly 🤣🤣 I was inspired by the video someone posted of Billy whining and I couldn't help myself.🤣
Warnings: depression, self-loathing, oral sex (M receiving)
When you met Billy Washington, he seemed like a moderately happy guy. He must have had a flat nearby because he was in your cornerstore quite often. He would come alone, or sometimes he would be in the company of a pretty woman hands intertwined they seemed like a happy couple.
When he would come to the counter with his items for purchase, he would always have a friendly smile and ask how you have been doing. You loved it when he came into the store. Mostly because you could stare at him when he did. He was handsome. He had a tall, slender figure. A sharp jawline with piercing blue eyes and shaggy hair.
You didn't flirt with him because you were aware he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who you surmised was one of the luckiest women you had ever met. She was as beautiful as he was. Light features and a soft laugh.
You always looked forward to his visits, though. You paid such close attention that you picked up on subtle changes. It started with the pretty girl. You noticed that for weeks on end, she had not accompanied him. Then, it was his smile. It seemed each time you saw him that beautiful smile of his got smaller and smaller until there was no smile at all. Then the fluffy hair on his head hung down in what looked like oily globs. His previously clean shaven face now littered with patches of mismatched hairs that looked like a young boy trying to grow a beard for the first time.
You couldn't help but wonder, what had happened to this cheeky adorable man?
You were getting ready to close down the shop. It was a Friday night and you planned on going to the pub with a few friends to unwind. You were counting the till when the little bell over the door interrupted your thoughts. You had thought you locked the door.
"I'm sorry were closing up" you said not looking up.
"Possible just to get a quick pack o smokes?"
You lift your head quickly at the recognition of his voice. Although it no longer sounded cheeky instead shakey and unsure you would still recognize it anywhere.
"Oh, sure. Can't deny you now can I?" You joke while grabbing his brand of smokes from behind the counter and placing them in front of you.
He looks an utter mess. Eyes glossy, hair disheveled, clothes unkempt.
He gives you a half smile that doesn't make it to his eyes. You put your hand over the pack and bite your bottom lip.
"I'll give you these.... IF you answer some questions" You feel a small burst of adrenaline you have never been this forward.
He looks at you confused "questions?" He scratches at his temple. You notice his hand is injured and wrapped in gauze.
"Yep. We have a deal?" You pick up the pack and wiggle it back and fourth in front of him.
"Yeah, alright, I'm not too interesting though"
"I'll be the judge of that." You move from behind the counter and flip the open sign to closed and lock the door. You pull down the blinds over the windows and the last one over the door.
"No interruptions." You go back behind the counter and pull out two stools, bringing them to where Billy is standing. He is shifting his weight from foot to foot. Running the flat of his palms down the front of his pants, no doubt, trying to wipe off the sweat that has started to accumulate there.
You move the two stools so they are facing each other.
"Sit" you motion to one of the stools.
He hesitates, looking between you and the stools with confusion.
"You're fidgety, sit"
He lets out a shakey light laugh and sits down on the stool and you sit down on the stool you had set up across from him.
"Ok.... first question" you look into his eyes he looks so nervous. It endearing.
"What happened to the pretty girl that was always in here with you?"
"Becky.... oh yeah that..... didn't work out" he looks down at his feet nervously tapping them together.
You fight the smirk that wants to crawl across your face. "Is that the reason for all of this?" You wave your hands towards him.
"All of what?" He looks at you confused.
"The dirty hair? Unkempt clothes? No longer shaving?"
"W-what? N-no. " he pats down his hair and brushes off his clothes self-consciously. "I've got a lot of different things going on at the moment"
"Explain it to me" you say gently.
He looks away, not wanting to make eye contact. "You don't want to hear any of this." he nervously runs his fingers through his hair.
"But I do" you scoot your stool forward so your knees are near touching as you reach down and squeeze his with your hand. "Tell me"
His eyes go wide as he stares at your hand on his knee and clears his throat. "U-umm... got rejected from the army"
"That's not a big deal loads of people do" you run your hand up his thigh and back down to his knee in a comforting gesture.
He keeps his head down watching your hand "no not my family. Not just once but a lot of times."
"So..... choose a different career path, " you say now using your thumb to rub circles on his knee.
"Can't keep a job." He lets out a huff mixed with a laugh
"Then you haven't found the right one"
He finally lifts his head and looks at you. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because that happy funny man I always loved to see has disappeared. I would like to find him and bring him back. " You get off the stool and stand in front of him.
"Trust me, I'm not worth it," he says, dejected.
"Hey," you put your hands on his cheeks and lift his face to look at you. His blue eyes are so sad that you feel yourself melt a little. You rub your thumbs along his cheekbones. "What has you saying a terrible thing like that?"
He allows you to keep his head in your hands and keeps looking up at you. "They all tell me. They ain't wrong."
You think he looks like a little puppy that needs to be rescued in this moment. "They hurt you, huh?" You continued caressing his cheekbones. He raises his arms as if he is going to rest them on your hips but instead lets them fall back into his lap.
"It's ok to hurt me, I'm not worth much," your heart breaks as he finally looks away from you, putting his hands over yours and lowering them off of his face.
You kneel down in front of him and place your hands on his knees. He looks at you completely confused.
"Umm.... ermmm.... what are you doing?" He runs the palms of his hands against his pants.
"I want to show you that you are important." He stays silent, eyes wide just staring at you.
You run your hands from his knees up his thighs and back down while you both maintain eye contact.
"H-how would you do that?" He gulps loudly.
"I have a few ideas." You scoot in closer, spreading his legs apart, settling yourself in between them.
"What makes you feel good" you say to him in your best sultry voice.
He's just looking at you, jaw slack. After a few minutes, he finally half responds. "Huh?"
"Well, you have been feeling bad. So -" You run both hands from his knees all the way up to his hips, lingering for a moment before running them back down."I would like to know what makes you feel good"
He makes a small whimpering sound as his eyes quickly scan your face. "If you won't tell me, I guess I will just have to figure it out. If what I'm doing makes you feel bad, you just tell me, yeah?"
He barely squeaks out an "Uh hu"
You run your hands up and down his thighs a few more times and click your tongue. "Tsk tsk so tense, Billy."
He makes another small whimpering noise lighting a fire in your belly. You bring your hands back up to his hips and then slide them under his shirt.
He holds his breath but doesn't pull away. Your hands slowly slide out of his shirt and over his waistband and down into his lap.
When your hands brush lightly over his manhood under his joggers, he lets out a slightly louder whine and his hips jolt forward. You start to caress him through his joggers as he is involuntarily bucking his hips lightly.
"So responsive, sweet boy," he whimpers again as you bring your hands back up to his waistband and start to shimmy them down just enough to free his throbbing member.
"Well, that's impressive" you say while looking and his fully erect cock thats already wet with precum.
Billy is breathing heavily but doesn't say anything he stares at your hand as you wrap it around him.
"Oh shit" he says in a whimper as you start moving your hand up and down in precise motions along his cock not fully gripping.
"It's so pretty" you say and fully grip him as he lets out a gasp. His hands gripping the sides of the stool.
You lean in as if you're inspecting it, making sure your breath can be felt on the tip.
Billy whimpers again, his hips slightly shifting. You give the tip a kitten lick and then look up at billy. His eyes are wide and his mouth open completely entranced.
You take his right hand and place it on the back of your neck before leaning completely forward and taking the head of his cock in your mouth. You feel the hand on your neck start to squeeze, and you hear him starting to pant above you.
You take as much into your mouth as you can and grip the rest with your hand as you start bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks. Billy slides his hand up from your neck into your hair.
"P-p-please don't stop," he says in between whimpers. You start to move your head more vigorously. Feeling his cock battering the back of your throat. His whimpering is getting steadily louder, and his hips start to buck up off the stool. His hand gripping your hair as if he is hanging on for dear life.
You lower your head as far down as you can until it causes you to gag. Billy moves to pull your hair back with both his hands, watching your every move intently.
"Oh, I'm gonna, oh no, I'm gonna." He doesn't finish his sentence before you feel his cock pulse I'm your mouth as his seed shoots down your throat.
You make sure to swallow everything he gives you and then rise to your feet. He sits on the stool face flushed with beads of sweat on his forehead.
"I bet you really need that pack a smokes now, huh?" You say cheekily as you walk back around to the back of the counter.
Billy is still speechless sitting on the stool, and he hasn't moved an inch yet. Only his eyes are following you around the room.
You go back over to him, sitting in the stool and handing the pack of cigarettes to him. He stares at the pack blankly, not moving.
You giggle, taking his hand and placing the cigarettes in them. This contact seems to wake him up, and he looks at you.
"T-thank you"
You smile sweetly at him. "I have to finish closing this place up now.
"Oh yeah, sure i should....." he looks down and gets himself back into his joggers.
"I should probably get out of your way then," he stands up. He looks over at you like he wants to say something else but can't bring himself to do so. He walks to the door and opens it to step out.
"Billy?" He stops and looks at you.
"I expect to see that happy smiling man back in here. I have a surprise. I can't wait to give him"
Billy dawns a giant cheeky grin that lights up his face.
"I think he will be coming to this store often"
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lionofchaeronea · 5 months
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Homeric Hymn 19, "To Pan"
From the poll I did, it looks like most people are in favor of my posting this. I hope you enjoy it.
Tell me, Muse, of the dear offspring of Hermes: goat-footed, Two-horned, lover of noise, who goes in company With the dance-rejoicing nymphs through the tree-covered meadows, And they tread the heights, down from the steep rock, Calling on Pan, the shepherd god, of shining locks, Shaggy, who has as his lot every snowy crest, And the mountains’ peaks, and the stony heights.
Here and there he goes through the dense thickets, Drawn at one moment by the gentle streams-- Another time in turn he wanders the dizzying rocks, Ascending the highest peak, a place to watch the flocks. Many a time he runs through the tall and gleaming mountains, Many a time he drives beasts through the foothills, slaying them, Looking fiercely. But only at evening he makes a noise, Coming back from the hunt, playing a lovely tune With his reeds; that bird could not outstrip him in melodies That, among the leaves of much-flowering spring, performs Her song with honeyed voice, running through her lament. Then with him the mountain nymphs with high-pitched voices, Going about, dance with close-packed steps beside The spring that gives dark waters: Echo groans around The mountaintop. The god, dancing here and there, At times slipping into the middle, rules himself With his feet in close time: on his back he has a tawny Lynx’s pelt; he delights at heart in the piercing songs, There in the soft meadow, where the crocus and sweet-smelling Hyacinth bloom and mingle freely with the grass. They hymn the blessed gods and high Olympus: but Above all they tell of Hermes, the sprinter, who excels The rest: how he’s swift messenger to all the gods, And how he came to Arcadia, rich in fountains, mother Of flocks, where a precinct lies of him as Cyllenian. There, god though he was, he took to herding flocks With their rough fleeces at the house of a mortal man: For watery desire came upon him and bloomed To mingle in love with Dryops’ fair-haired nubile daughter. He brought the fertile marriage to pass, and in the halls She bore a dear son to Hermes, a monstrous thing to see Right off, goat-footed, two-horned, noise-lover, Sweetly laughing: his mother leapt up and fled, His nurse abandoned the child right then, for she feared, When she saw his face—unappealing, well-bearded. Forthwith sprinter Hermes took him up in his hands-- The divine being rejoiced exceedingly in his mind. He went right away to the immortals’ seats, concealing The child in close-wrapped skins of a mountain-dwelling hare: He sat beside Zeus and the other immortals and showed them His son: all the immortals were delighted in their spirits, First and foremost Dionysos, known as Bacchus. They called him Pan, because he pleased the hearts of all. And you, thus, rejoice! With a song I seek your favor-- But I shall think of you and another song as well.
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Sweet, piercing sweet was the music of Pan's pipe, Walter Crane, 1910s
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moony-ghoul · 6 months
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ghoul hair hcs
dew: his hair was naturally a cool almost white blonde when he was a water ghoul, after his transformation his hair become auburn. he bleaches it still to a platinum blonde, he doesn’t feel like himself when he’s ginger. despite the bleaching he keeps his hair very healthy having a whole ass weekly schedule just dedicated to his hair, it’s long and just reaches his waist. for body hair he’s not very hairy as is but he still shaves everything for sensory reasons, sometimes he’ll let his pubes/ happy trail grow but even then it’s very light and grows very slow
rain: rains hair is thick and dark, there’s a slight curl to it, he has a shaggy kinda wolfcut that just reaches his collarbones. he likes to keep a bit of stubble on his face (mainly cause dew likes it). he cannot grow leg hair (water ghoul thing), he keeps the rest of himself trimmed and proper but even then it doesn’t make much of a difference because of how thick all his hair is, he’s got a perfect line down the middle of his torso reaching a nice splatter of hair on his chest, he keeps a nice bush going
phantom: PHANTOM FUZZYYY. cause of their vitiligo their hair grows black and white depending on the colour of the skin underneath. they have very shaggy hair it’s short but has no particular style to it, it’s so thick that it just kinda stands up on its own and ant has learnt to not fight it, most of the hair of their head is black except for a large streak near their face that’s white. that white streak from their face goes down across their eye leaving them with a white eyebrow. they cannot grow facial hair. because the colour of their hair matches the colour of their skin they look like they’re pretty hairless especially when wet but when you get up close you can see this ghoul has a pretty solider layer of fuzz all over their body, it gets thicker in the winter but also means they shed in the summer, they never shave it’s too much of a hassle which means they have a thick bush
swiss: swiss is fuckin HAIRY. dense dark curly hair from his collar bones to his dick, a well trimmed but thick beard, long dreads reaching midway down his back. if he had his way he’d let it all grow forever without a care in the world but he has a small fire ghoul wife who has built him a perfect routine for caring for his intense hair, making sure his beard is trimmed and neat and his body hair is still soft and clean. after about a month of dew bullying him into a self care routine he actually really started to enjoy it, he loves feeling good and knowing he looks and smells good for his partners
mount: he has very thin hair and it’s very light. he’s ginger. the only hair that isn’t thin is the hair on his head which is long w a slight wave, resembles a lions mane when he wakes up. he does not shave at all so he has full bush leading up to a pretty lil happy trail, he’s got a lil chest hair (it kinda looks like a big heart in the centre of his chest) but his legs are hella hairy it’s almost fur, he also has the same on his arms. it’s all a lot of hair but very thin hair so you don’t get the full picture until it’s wet and sticking to him (when he sweaty). in summer when he’s tan it’s less visible but he’s the same as ant where he’ll grow a winter coat in a way
cirrus: my girl is the hairiest out of everyone. she doesn’t shave at all and is covered in thick dark hair. she has like a long mullet, she takes great care of all her hair so it’s beautiful silky shiny. she doesn’t have a whole lot of chest hair but her tummy and bush are hella fuzzy. she has a double slit in her eyebrow that came from a scar (thanks dew). the hair on her arms and legs contour her muscles so perfectly and it makes everyone fuckin drool
cumulus: cumulus is so particular about her hair, her and dew write out their hair care schedules together, they have completely different hair textures but they just like having someone to talk to about it. her hair is white and big and curly (3b to be specific) it looks like a cloud. she only shaves her pits but the rest of her hair is so light she doesn’t see a point in shaving it, sometimes she’ll shave her legs just cause she likes the feeling of being all smooth and on occasion she’ll trim up her pubes. much like some ppl say “don’t talk to me before i’ve had my coffee” lus will say “don’t talk to me until i’ve done my hair”
aurora: rory is a hair dye girly, her natural colour is a pastel pink but she loves changing it up every few weeks, dew taught her how to bleach her hair and take care of it after and she hasn’t looked back since. her favourites are pastel colours. she has a ramona flowers type cut with a bob but longer in the front, sometimes she’ll let it grow out for a few months but she doesn’t like the feeling of hair on her shoulders. she likes to keep the rest of her body fairly hairless, she keeps her lil happy trail tho and shaves her pubes into a heart.
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totallytatum · 1 year
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Thomas
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summary ; joel finally gets to meet his last chance for a future, thomas, his last thing worth fighting for. pairing ; joel x reader warning ; none, maybe adult language a / n ; this is for those who wanted to see joel meet thomas for the first time. it’s a short one, definitely not my best. for those wanting to be tagged, hopefully this reaches you. i am unable to tag anyone.
" do you want to see him? "
despite joel staying the night, he didn't pry on seeing thomas late last night. but you were eager, so eager for thomas to finally meet his father that you woke up before the hell bent toddler.
stirring the eggs around before turning around to lay the plates out, you glanced at joel, still uncertain of his words ' i'm never leaving again ' were to be true. despite him saying those words you still asked if he wanted to see him. you were hopeful he would say yes, that he himself was ready. maybe if he laid eyes on thomas he whole goal of getting the girl to wherever she needed to be in the past. you wanted him here, you needed him here, with thomas, with you.
joel ruffled his hand through his salt and peppered hair, looking up from his coffee, " well- you've had him all to yourself for all this time haven't you? " you smiled softly, giving a curt nod, clearing your throat slightly " uh yeah i guess i have. " rolling off the balls of your heels, “ i’ll be right back then. “ your fingers gripped the rail heading upstairs. your hands were sweaty but you couldn’t tell between excitement or being nervous. this was big for not only thomas and you but for joel.
opening the door quietly, you peaked in. there laid thomas sleeping soundly, way past his usual time. you crouched down next to the bed, pushing his shaggy brown bang from his face. “ thomas “ you whispered, “ thomas honey it’s time to way up. wake up baby. “ his brown eyes peaked open, barely open as he blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes. sitting up and reaching for you, a soft sleepy sigh escaped his lips.
you held him close to your body as you stepped down the stairs, the second to last one creaking under your feet. thomas’s head was nudged into your shoulder, his arms around your shoulders. you walked into the kitchen, standing close to joel. “ joel meet thomas, thomas meet daddy. “
joel peered at him, frightful. if joel was around when you were pregnant, hell even when thomas was born maybe he wouldn’t be so scared, but it’s much more difficult to meet your child years later and not know how they’d react. joel didn’t blame you for that. he choose to leave, to track down his brother who was perfectly fine, just didn’t want to be found.
his hand reached out to touch the child, before carefully taking him into his arms. unsure of the reaction to come. thomas’s eyes beamed up at joel, his hand touching his beard. not an ounce of fear laid on the toddler’s face but curiosity. unsure of what to say, he sounded confused, “ hey there buddy, it’s me, it’s your dad. I know you don’t know me but i promise i’m here now to make right by you and your mama. “
watching the interaction, you were ready to burst. it was going better than you could have hoped. thomas and joel were bonding, connecting. joel glanced at you, reaching out his free arm, he pulled you in. leaning his head against yours, he whispers.
“ i’m never leaving this again. “
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angelsanddaisies · 2 years
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Prisoner!Ari Levinson x Reader
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Warnings: None... yet.
Summary: Feudal era. Y/N's father is a lord and he's just imprisoned and infamous killer, Ari Levinson. Ari's been accused of vicious, serial murder, found with damning evidence. To top it off he's arrogant and crude. So why does Y/N keep coming back for more?
Full Story will be 18+.
Posting teaser for feedback.
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She waits until nightfall, when she’s sure there will be no one to wake, no one the wiser of her impropriety. She can't help it. Each night she tells herself, I won’t go. And then after a half hour of restless tossing and turning, she finds herself wrapped in her night cloak, walking down the murky steps to the dungeons of the keep.
The only sound is the soft, pitter patter of the leaks that scatter the cells. The moonlight does little for her sight, only trickling in through the thin, barred openings at the tops of each cell. The lantern she holds illuminates only a few feet ahead of her. She walks down the narrow corridor he’s at the end cell. Her heart beats fast as she approaches him. Just as he comes into sight, his low voice bounces off the cobblestone walls.
“There's my lovely girl. I was really beginning to think you actually meant it last night.”
He laughs. His eyes twinkle, the fire reflecting in his blue eyes. He’s dirty, his hair shoulder length and shaggy, his beard overgrown. He wears tattered garbs, his chest visible through the cuts. His leather trews aren’t any better. Still, he’s the most striking man she’s ever seen. The frequency of her visits do not dull his impact on her. She leans back on the wall opposite his cell. The stool she always sits on remains in what now might as well be her spot.
“You’re a hateful man. I’d be a fool to return.” He raises his voice, mocking her words from the night before. Her fingers dig into her palms with how tight she clenches her fists. Her anger bubbles, the nerves being erased by how easily he can incense her. She glowers at him but he just smirks and stands to grip the bars that separate them. He towers over her but she doesn’t shy from his gaze; his assessing, pressing eyes that she can almost feel run over her.
“Does that make you my fool, lovely?”
--
xx. Daisy.
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my-soupy-brain · 3 days
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hello! i found your blog cause my jason sudeikis obsession has been insane as of late, especially last man on earth as that's what i'm rewatching rn (it's such a small fandom and you're the first person i've seen make mike miller content i am so grateful 🙏💙) i wanted to ask for another mike fic please if you'd be up to it (i understand how fandoms and interests fluctuate, happens a lot in my own art so it's totally cool if not!) i don't really have any specific requests, i've enjoyed all your fics so just anything with mike would be really cool! (also i apologize if i'm requesting this wrong) ty for all your fics, i love and appreciate your writing so much!!
OH YES MY UNICORN! Mike Miller fun coming up. I'll keep writing for him too because he's my favorite character behind Ted. I just loved that show so much and I'm sad it's over. So let's fill in the blanks with Mike's life -- and his quest for love, shall we?!
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Relationship: Mike Miller x reader (F)
Warnings: As with all Mike content, cute + smut ahead
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Mike stopped and stood slightly behind a tree as he watched you.
You were on your knees in your garden, plucking up some vegetables from the earth, knocking off the dirt, and placing them in a basket.
You moved to the tomatoes next, yanking them off the vine, smiling at how red and juicy they were in the kind heat of the West Coast.
The home behind you looked to be yours, he guessed. A beach-style mid-century modern bungalow. Based on the wild wind in your hair and the round sunglasses perched on your nose, you and the building looked to be a good match.
He knew he had to approach carefully. He didn't want to startle you. And hell, you might not even be alone.
So he walked. Slowly.
"Ummm..."
You jumped at the sound of a...voice? A human voice?!
"OH MY GOD WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
You were startled, hands held up in front of you as if you were expecting to be harmed.
Mike quickly shook his head, his eyebrows bunching as his hands went up defensively, too.
"No, no! Not like that, no, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Mike. Miller. Mike Miller. And I... I've been on my own for... a while, and umm..."
He's stumbling. He's watching your pretty eyes relax, your mouth loosen, your shoulders drop.
You nod quietly and smile gently.
"Mike... it's nice to meet you. You... you've been on your own? Me, too. I'm Y/N. I'm so sorry to be so frightened."
Mike shakes his head.
"Oh, God, don't be. I'm sorry I frightened you. You're the first person I've seen in a... a long time. It's... it's nice to meet you, Y/N."
Mike offers a strong hand, vascular, with toned forearms. He's got a sturdy build to him, broad shouldered and broad chest, soft but sculpted. His long, brown-auburn hair is a bit shaggy on him, maybe starting to curl on the ends. He's got a scruffy, short beard growing in with specs of gray.
"You, too...Mike. Would you...like to come in?"
Mike nods. "Love to."
...
Mike watches as you rinse the vegetables from the garden. He takes in your bare feet, the hippy-style skirt, the baggy shirt knotted in the front.
You turn to look at him while you wipe down the tomatoes.
"So, tell me all about yourself, Mike."
He smiles, because you smile. Genuine. Happy. Lovely.
He tells you how he was on the space station. Came back to Earth alone. Plopped into the ocean. He talks about finding his brother, and the group. He sighs sadly as he says Phil's name, but adds he wanted to go out on his own. See if he could find others.
"And I found you."
You smile, squeezing his shoulder as you walk behind him to the other side of the kitchen.
The contact from you felt...
electric.
You tell him about your journey -- making your way west where you could actually plant and rely on weather. Losing your family, your divorce before the pandemic took everyone away.
"So you're here alone?" Mike asks, taking a sip of the tea you made him. You nod.
"I'm sorry it's been so hard for you," he adds quietly. You smile softly.
"I'm sorry it's been hard for all of us.
...
By evening you're making dinner. Fresh pasta with vegetables and a garlic lemon sauce, thanks to the lemon tree out back.
Mike marvels at the way you work and helps you roll out the pasta dough to slice thin. He likes to watch the flour on your hands, up your arms, even on your cheek where you scratched an itch.
He wants to touch you.
In the time you've worked together at the counter, you've learned each other's favorite music, favorite movies, likes and dislikes. You have a lot of the same, and a lot of differences, too.
You like him.
Mike likes you, too.
When you serve up his plate and pour him a glass of expensive wine -- because who else is going to drink the remarkable vineyards left behind? - he could melt.
Dinner is delicious, of course, and he's grateful for the hospitality.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you like," you offer, cleaning the dishes in the sink. "I don't have anyone else here and it's a good sized house."
Mike smiles softly. If it's up to him, he wouldn't be in his own room for long.
If it's up to you, you don't want him to be, either.
But you don't say that, and neither does he.
Mike stands to help you at the sink, grabbing a dry towel to wipe down the plates and dishes.
"Thank you," you offer, turning to smile at him. He smiles back, getting lost in your eyes.
"You're welcome. Oh..." he murmurs, leaning closer. "You have an eyelash on your cheek. Make a wish," he offers, his warm, masculine finger swiping the black crescent from your face and holding it out on his fingertip.
You giggle and close your eyes, blowing gently.
He can't wait a second longer. It's been too long. Everything feels too right. You're here, he's here. You found each other for a reason. And he wasn't a guy who believed in star alignment and all that mumbo jumbo.
He tugs you toward him with one hand, low on your waist, his lips finding yours effortlessly, as if...as if...
As if that's exactly what you wished for. Because it was.
Your hands go around his neck to kiss him back. It's like the first time you've ever been kissed, but a million times better. Because you both know what you're doing.
Deep pockets of air go through your noses, his other hand cups your face gently, like a goddamn romance novel.
The moan that escapes your chest has his blood humming with desire, your tongues meeting more aggressively, full-on making out like teenagers with parents out of town.
He cages you against the counter a little, and you're tempted to hop up and let him between your legs. As you start to edge up to the counter, Mike stops you.
"Bedroom?" he asks, your chest rising and falling fast with adrenaline. "I want you, I want...you... in a bed..." he adds, making your knees knock together.
Your cheeks blush crimson as you take his hand and walk him to the bedroom, not far away. He doesn't waste a minute taking in the beachy coziness of the king bed and the duvet and the flowers you've got in vases...
He's too busy finding your lips again, his hands touring your body, moving the two of you toward the bed.
God, it's been so long. So fucking long.
Instead of pushing your skirt down, his hands slide up against the fabric, bunching it as he goes, finding your ass and grabbing it, running his palms over the fleshiness of your hips.
Despite the state of the world and your change in diet, you never lost some of the softest parts of you - which you thought were unfortunate but Mike...
"Goddamn," he mutters, practically growling. "You're fucking beautiful."
You shiver at this, and he smiles, his lips going down your neck now, his hands on a running journey over your body as you back up toward the bed and lean down, bringing him over you.
His knee between your legs gives you ample opportunity for friction, your hips swirling against him, letting the throbbing core of you get some relief.
It makes you fucking shake.
It's been years since you've made love... truly, really, made love. And this is blowing your fucking mind in a thousand directions.
He likes how you feel when you move against his knee, his thigh, and he pushes against you to help you along.
"Oh, oh fuck..." you murmur between kisses. Mike can tell by your trembling what's happening.
"Let it happen, it's okay. I want it to happen," he whispers. "Good girl."
Boom! The cord snaps, your body shakes and convulses, your come slicking your panties and probably through onto his jeans. His hands touch you gently, your body so sensitive like a firework.
"Mmmm... that's it," he whispers, your hips still moving slowly against him. "Get as much as you want."
Your breath is catching as you look back up into his dark-hazel eyes, his lips smiling at you. His hand gently cups your face when you kiss again, and he pulls away.
"That was one of the hottest things that's ever happened to me," Mike adds, chuckling so softly into your hair that you can't help but join him.
Your hands roam down his sturdy chest and to the front of his pants and he groans a little louder.
"Been a long time for you, too?" you ask softly, and he nods quickly.
"Way, way too long."
You smile brightly and kiss him again, sliding his open button-down off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. His tshirt goes next, and your hands can finally touch the masculine length of his stomach and chest and that beautiful pattern of chest hair all over.
His own hands get to work sliding your skirt off, then your shirt. Rolling to the center of the bed you have plenty of room to explore and play.
You smile at him, kissing him.
"Are you sure?" you ask quietly, taking him by surprise. A beautiful smile curls his lips, a dimple in his cheek.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because... I'm just the first gal you've seen since you left your group. What if there's someone else?"
Mike looks down at the rise and fall of your chest, the glow on your face, the blush of your cheeks. His mind goes back to the dinner, the conversation, how right it all feels.
"Not a chance I'll want anyone but you," he whispers, leaning in to kiss you. When he kicks his pants away, he pulls the cover up with him and you both smile, kissing, while his cock pushes into you.
Slow. So slow.
A gentle tug, a tight squeeze. It's been a while for you both. And his own low growl indicates it feels just as good for him as it does you. So you nod at each other with a smile, moving slow together first, then a little faster, then a little harder and deeper.
Hands pull and squeeze and grasp, and you get a little louder.
A lot louder, because who's here to hear you? No one.
Your legs wrap around him, his body buried inside yours, nails scratching down his back gently, moaning... panting... chanting...cursing.
"Never...felt...so good..." he musters with a heavy breath. "Oh, fuck..."
His big hand holds your thigh, grabs your ass, your breast, then cups your face as he kisses you.
If this is what making love is, well, you've never had this before. So you let your bodies moan, you let the sweat come together, you make each other see fucking stars.
His fingers lace with yours, your lips meet and your body shudders under him, the romance of it all, the tender touch and kisses he gives you...
"Oh, my God..."
Mike smiles to himself, kissing your neck, whispering: "Yeah, that's OK. I want to feel it."
Your body unleashes and you tuck your lips against his neck, your hands clutch his back...and just before he meets you over the edge, he pulls out and comes on your stomach.
His breath is panting, your breath is panting, and without a care, he leans back over you to kiss you.
"I wanted to go longer," he jokes, chuckling a warm fan of air over your lips. You smile and hold his face sweetly.
"I don't think we could've done that no matter how hard we tried. It was too..."
"Perfect."
He kisses your lips again, his fingers and palm brushing the hair off your face. And then you're both giggling like high schoolers.
"So... are you...um... gonna sleep in my bed?"
Mike looks at you with a playful smirk, and then around at the king-size bed.
"If that's OK with you, I think there's plenty of room..."
You laugh again and he smiles, nuzzling against you.
"There is definitely room, but I bet we don't drift too far from each other."
A soft smile is exchanged between you and he raises your knuckles to his lips to kiss.
"I don't think we will, either."
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That was way mushier/romantic/sweet than even I expected it to be but I'm in such a "oh, I need touch and love and adoration" type of mood lately. Loneliness? I don't know. Whatever it is, this. I want this. Please. And with my own Mike Miller. Also, please. :) Thanks for the prompt, friend. Keep sending Mike stuff my way!
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boywifesammy · 11 months
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john & abuse - a study
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the first few months after mary’s death, john was silent. dean had never seen such a blank look on his father’s face. he didn’t know it at the time, but he’d never see that vibrant look of joy from his childhood ever again.
john drank, but he mostly kept it to himself. at least at first. he hid the empty bottles where dean couldn’t find them and kept an eye on sam, though he never stepped in to intervene when he started crying.
more than scared, dean remembers being confused. he remembers sitting for hours on their dirty living room rug rocking his sobbing baby brother back and forth in his arms, trying to decipher john’s muttered slurs from the other room.
it was a year before john was lucid enough to be of any help. dean nearly jumped out of his skin when his father hugged him. he smelt of cigarettes and beer, but he was warm, and gentle, and dean hugged back.
‘i took care of sammy,’ he reassured his father. dean didn’t know the word for grief, but he felt the painful clench in his chest when he thought about his mother. it was there when he thought about his father too, but it didn’t bother him so much anymore. at least he had sammy.
john took dean’s face in his hands, staring down at him with heavy eyes. his beard was too long. his hair a shaggy mess. he looked dean in the eyes, and nodded curtly. good job, maybe. or, more likely, okay.
then he walked away, and dean sat there for far too long, wondering why he didn’t feel anything at all.
hunting life was different. john had a passion for the hunt and when they were on the job, he ate, sleep, and breathed violence. there was a jerky quality to him all the time, like he had two eyes peeled for the enemy and another on the back of his head to make sure that dean had his hold on his brother. when they did local hunts, dean would see it firsthand. the switch from whiskey to cigarettes. sharp daggers spread out across the motel bed. missing person’s reports and esoteric literature tacked up on the ugly wallpaper.
sometimes dean missed mary, missed how warm and soft she was in a way that john never was. but mostly, he was happy that his father was fighting for her. fighting for their family. fighting to keep dean safe, so that dean could keep sam safe.
dean knew what PTSD was. the full clinical title was lost on him but he saw it first in john’s war vet buddies, and now in the few hunters they ran across. dean recognized it right away. shuttered eyes. shifty movements. sleeping with one hand under their pillows, unchecked anger that could storm to the forefront practically unprovoked.
dean never gave it a name, but he knew about PTSD. he saw it in his father too. john never beat them, never hit them, barely even yelled at them. and if he did yell, dean knew he deserved it. he knew it was out of love, because dean couldn’t make mistakes, they just couldn’t afford it. not in this life.
john never beat dean but he got edgy on hunts. erratic. pulsing with so much misdirected anger that sometimes the mere presence of another in the room would send him into a frenzy. so dean doesn’t blame him for anything that happens on the job. it doesn’t count, not really. so what if john hit him in the side with the butt of his rifle on the last salt and burn? he walked right into that ghost’s trap. or when he beat him unconscious last friday? dean was possessed. he didn’t want to, he had to. and when he made dean sleep outside in the shed last winter? it was a rough hunt. dean disobeyed, and sammy got hurt. he deserved all of that and more.
dean didn’t count the training either. hunting wasn’t an easy life, and he didn’t blame john for that. if anything, he revered his father’s tenacity and wit. nothing in life comes easy. of course john knocks him on his ass during every training brawl. sammy sure as hell isn’t old enough for dean to practice with, and monsters don’t go easier because you’re little. so what if he faints a few times during PT, or if he has to fight on a broken bone, or if he sees black from exhaustion when he stands up too quick? it was dean’s fault that he threw up blood after john made him run endless laps around the motel parking lot. he should’ve drank more water.
dean knew it was all worth it when they came back from a successful hunt and his father ushered him into the bathroom to fix him up. when he stitched dean closed and gently wiped the blood off his skin and told him not to worry, that chicks dig scars. sometimes he even let dean sneak sips from his flask, and dean would sit real still with his shoulders squared, letting the buzz cover the pain.
dean knew it was worth it because the better he was, the less sammy had to suffer. he never bore the brunt of john’s rage during hunts. after all, he was just a kid, if he fucked up it was on dean for not teaching him right. sam could run more laps than dean and he had a killer shot and he’d never had to puke blood for it. he never had to fight dad. he’d only ever passed out twice, and each time dean was there to drag him back into the motel and feed him small sips of gatorade.
john was never there when dean woke up. dean didn’t blame him, there were more important things he had to do and dean would be fine. he knew how to take care of himself. ‘concussed?’ his father would text a few days later. ‘no,’ dean would text back, even if he was, because it wasn’t like there was anything john could do to help.
but dean was always there for sam. he made sure that sam never puked blood or passed out or cried because his stitches were too tight. he was his little brother, his little sammy, and if anything happened to him… hell. dean would die. he’d just die. he couldn’t take that.
sam left for stanford on a clear, gauzy summer night. he argued for hours with his father. dean stood to the side as he watched and didn’t say a word. john never beat them but he got irritable, and that meant bad hunts, and bad hunts meant extra stitches and bone-deep scars and those kinds of injuries that only hospitals could treat.
dean never understood why sam was so hellbent on overcomplicating their lives. they had it good. sam was safe, dean was loved, and john— well, john got by. he kept it together, for them. for dean. he kept dean safe so all he had to worry about was sammy, and now sam was leaving.
‘come with me,’ sam had asked him on the sidewalk. he had a massive backpack strapped to his chest. dean’s heart was breaking into so many little pieces.
‘sammy…’ he’d whispered back, because, god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
‘come with me, dean. you don’t have to stay with him.’ anger willed up in dean. the same hot-cold anger that he saw in john when sam disobeyed.
it almost made him feel good. loved. righteous. he was his father’s son and he was made of scrap metal and leather and motel carpet, but he was loved. cherished. god, he was full of so much love. why couldn’t sam see that?
‘i’d never leave him. why the hell would you even suggest that?’ sam’s eyes went hard. he laughed, bitter and ugly, and shook his head.
‘you know what, dean, i always knew you’d choose him— this life— over everything else. over me.’ and dean wanted to scream, because how dare he. how dare he, when he never had to puke blood, or wash out the vomit from his father’s clothes, or wake up every morning to the heat of their mother burning on the ceiling.
but dean knew that deep down, this was a good thing. it was a sam thing. it was a boy who had the freedom and the love to be more than a weapon and a boy who was loved so much that it let him be selfish.
sam sneered at him, spitting out his words like they burned in his mouth.
‘you’re a goddamn coward.’
then he left, and dean didn’t stop him.
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hypocriticaltypwriter · 2 months
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Does nancys family have descriptions of what they look like? Because i need to draw Vanessa Intervention IMMEDIATELY
“So when was the first time you did drugs Vanessa”
“Excuse me?”
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OHHH IM SO EXCITED TO SHARE HOW THEY LOOK WHILE I DOODLE THEM 😈
William has very 'square like' features, a large rigid nose and dark brown eyes, with calculation and peace in them- they seem very kind yet studies any move you make. If he had hair, it would be dark brown, but it is buzzed considering his military work, and the same would go with a rugged beard to hide his clean sharp features.
Bradley is sort of scruffy looking. He has sharp looks. sharp nose, sharp jaw, and a lean, tall body. He has sandy blonde hair [wether is kept nice and combed or shaggy and unmade depends on his mood] and dark blue eyes. He has a rather quiet and intimidating aura to him. He seems to have a sort if hawk-like personality.
Now if Bradley is more hawk-like, Wayne is like a puppy in a sense, even down to appearance. He has long shaggy brown hair [which was quite a rage considering long hair on a boy in the 50s wasn't something praised all that much] and shares looks similar to William with the brown eyes, but his festures are more soft and hidden away under a scruffy stubble covering his face.
Spencer has sandy blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes with freckles all over his face. He his appearance is a bit more rugged, but he has softer features and more rounded facial structure. He's a pretty scrawny dude, even a crooked arm! But don't let it fool you, he packs a lot of fight.
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wayward-persephone · 2 years
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Russell having a nightmare/being unable to sleep and his S/O comforting him ? (no I am not in love with the thought of caring for that fluffy confused bunny of a man, what do you mean)
"Fluffy confused bunny of a man" is the absolute perfect description of him 😩👌
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“You roll over one more time and I’m pushing you onto the floor,” you grouched groggily, voice muffled from where your face was smooshed into your pillow, and the response to your threat was for the body beside you to go almost comically rigid. 
“Sorry,” was the whispered reply and you grunted before lazily patting your hand across the blankets until your lover linked his hand with yours. 
Even in your half-asleep state you could feel how his hand trembled against your own and any dregs of sleep evaporated from your brain at the feeling. Shifting around until you could curl yourself over his body, you cuddled into his chest with an arm thrown over his waist, and you placed a gentle kiss over his pectoral as he immediately curled his arms around you. 
“Bad dream?” you asked softly, trailing a hand across his ribcage in a soothing manner as you listened to the thrum of his heartbeat underneath your ear, and he made a small humming noise that you took as an affirmative.
You felt him nuzzle the top of your head and you smiled at the ticklish brush of his beard. 
“You wanna talk about it?” you continued in that same soft tone.
Instead of answering, Russell turned to curl his body into yours with his head tucked against your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you just hugged him closer to you. Even throwing one of your legs over his hip to pull him tighter to you. You gently brushed your fingers through his shaggy hair as the sound of the air conditioning kicking on filled the silence. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, almost falling back asleep in the peaceful silence, but then you were jerked back awake as you felt him shake his head slightly. 
“Not really. This is enough,” he said quietly and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 
You weren’t surprised that he didn’t want to talk about it, meaning it was probably a memory about his time in prison, so you made sure to hold him tighter in a wordless expression of your support to him. He pulled the blanket up over you both, making sure it was tucked securely around you, and you both settled into the bed in a more comfortable position while staying curled together.
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kissing their lover to show they forgive them . 🖤
Thank you for this prompt!
So funny thing is part of the whole Kit/Jacob ship is that neither of them will ever apologize (at least not in their FC5 timeline) so I had to jump ahead to the future in the New Dawn era where the two of them have matured somewhat and aren't huge assholes anymore.
So without further ado...
Kit pushed past the large tanned leather pelt that blocked off the room in their log cabin. Built by hand all those years ago, every log felled by Jacob himself.
For as long as they'd been living there, raising their children, he'd found his spot in the dark corner of the cabin and placed a sturdy wooden chair there for when he needed to be alone.
She knew he'd be there, brooding in the dark, and wasn't surprised to find his pale eyes staring back at her, a fire crackling in the room for warmth and light.
"What the hell was that all about?" She leaned in the doorway, pale hair draped over her shoulder.
"What?"
His gruff tone would hardly dissuade her, he'd stormed off like a hulking beast through the trees when their son had pushed him to the ground, beating him in hand-to-hand combat training.
"Oh for – you could have at least told him you were proud of him."
"Why?" he shrugged a single shoulder. "He should already know that."
Kit sighed heavily, her own personal feelings on being ignored by her father stewing in the pit of her gut. "Stop being such a stubborn fucking old man."
"I am a stubborn fucking old man, Kit." Jacob barked.
She pulled her shoulder away from the wall and walked over to him, straddling his lap in the chair, running her hands through his now shaggy, graying hair.
"Yes, you are. And do you wanna know why? Because you fought, and you keep on fighting, for us and for our family. You're strong, Jacob. That never changed."
He grunted and then sighed in defeat.
"Your son is meant to best you, at some point in life that happens with all fathers and their children. You might not be as fast, or be able to carry as much, you might even be a little bit more well fed -" She said while smiling down at his soft belly. "But one thing that has not changed is how I feel about you. Besides, the only reason Carter beat you is 'cause you taught him everything you know, how to be strong, how to hunt, how to survive. If it weren't for you…"
"If I'm to blame for our son, what about our daughters?" He looked up at her with a smirk, the deep lines in his face crinkling.
"Quinn's temper and competitiveness? have no idea where she gets that." Kit smirked. "And as for Haven, she's always been her own person and we love her for it."
"Yes we do."
Kit's face softened, though the lines of her forever furrowed brow still remained. "I don't know where I'd be without you old man."
"I know exactly where I'd be." His eyes dropped to his lap.
"Hey." Kit placed her finger under his chin,buried in his beard, hooking it to make him look back up at her. "It's you and me forever. Wherever you go, I follow."
Her lips met with his, kissing him slow and deep. They'd faced worse together, they'd face worse still.
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