#AND !! they took his glasses away! and i only noticed when i was editing these! whaddahell!!! imagine his headache poor thing

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

[maelfe]

first day in the new office

[lixie-phoria]

summer sun forever (stray kids comforting their 9th member!reader)

pairing : platonic stray kids x fem!9th member reader

requested : yes

warnings - mentions of blood, description of poor parenting (lmk if i've missed any!)

genre - angst to comfort

jeongin thought it was normal, the way you would sit alone during group discussions giving your input only when asked directly.

seungmin though it was a habit, the way you would immediately pinch yourself if you made a mistake.

felix thought it was out of good nature that you would constantly appreciate his sunshine-like personality and inability to be mad for longer than a few moments.

han thought it was adorable, the way you would cover your smile while laughing at one of his jokes, trying to hold back any laugh that was louder than a giggle.

hyunjin thought it was just your strive for perfection that you would spend hours more than the other boys trying to perfect your choreographies, scared to mess up.

changbin thought it was a personal preference, the way you'd always dress up in lose clothing, rejecting anything that was too fitting.

lee know thought it was impressive, the way you could recognize any member just from his footsteps approaching your room or the way you always left one ear uncovered when using headphones.

but chan knew. or he thought he did, at least. maybe it was brotherly instincts kicking in, but he knew these habits weren't healthy. far from it. it concerned him, but he didn't know how to approach you either.

his concerns were triggered for the first time when you dropped a glass at the dorms, sharp shards scattering everywhere. you didn't notice him rush to help you as he stopped dead in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you pick up the broken pieces with bare hands. he saw the way your hands were trembling and how a particularly tricky piece sliced right through your skin, blood oozing out. you didn't even flinch, sparing the cut a small glance before you went back to cleaning the floor. you didn't bother trying to disinfect it, opting to only run it under the tap and wiping it away with a few tissues. then you crumpled them up, making sure the members wouldn't notice the red on the paper and went about your day as usual. chan waited, patiently, expecting you to bring up the injury to anyone, but you didn't, so he thought maybe it was just a small cut. maybe it was just a small wound, after all.

you would tell them if you were really hurt, right?

the second time chan notices something wrong is when you hit your upper arm at the edge of the table during dinner. it had hurt, that much he knew from the way you yelped and rubbed the sore spot. he had laughed at your clumsiness with the others as you smiled sheepishly, ducking your head and running away to your room to do who knows what. he thought he saw tears in your eyes, but you didn't mention the bruise again, so they all thought you were okay.

but chan's breaking point was when stays themselves noticed something was wrong. he was scrolling through instagram when a particular reel caught his attention. it was of their dance performance, and the fan had zoomed into your figure - specifically your upper arm - and the large reddish blue spot was so strikingly evident it took him three rewatches to make sure it was not an edit. how had any of them missed it? then another reel came up, and it was you wincing slightly as lee know jokingly shook your hand, the same one you had cut while cleaning the glass. and it's like the pieces immediately fall into place.

chan doesn't think twice. before he knows it he's out of his room and walking (more like storming) towards yours, and he doesn't bother knocking. but even then, you had been expecting him, because you're staring at the door with a small smile on your face.

"i heard you coming. is everything ok?"

it's the first time your keen observation skills concern him, but he doesn't answer, instead striding towards you and lifting your arm despite your complaints. when his eyes zero-in on the bruise that you had expertly been concealing, he sees red. he isn't sure why he's angry. it's not your fault. but he is mad, and he couldn't control it.

of course you could see it on his face, and it's like you go into auto pilot mode, snatching your arm back and immediately apologizing, making excuses that fly straight out of his ears. he tries to hold back, he really does, but he can't. and before he can stop, the damage is done.

"don't bother. you clearly don't trust us enough anymore."

in hindsight, that was probably the worst thing chan could have said to you. blaming you would only worsen things, but he's so confused and disappointed in himself. he didn't know what kept you on the edge so often, and it hurt him that you wouldn't open up.

and thus the apparent cold war began.

you weren't mad. no. far from that. you were terrified. you had disappointed chan, the one person who made you feel safe always. the one person you knew you could go to with anything. but you chose not to, and now maybe you never will be able to. and it was like you were a teenager again, crying yourself to sleep every night, cautious of every word you spoke, and jumping at the slightest raised voice.

chan wasn't mad either. he was confused. he was hurt, a little bit. and he regretted the words he had carelessly spat out. it clearly hadn't been the right approach and now it hurt him to see the way you would tense whenever he stepped into the room, not making eye-contact and apologizing profusely to everybody for the smallest mistakes.

he thought giving you space was the best option for now. but in hindsight, that was a terrible decision too. he didn't realize how angry he was coming off as. he didn't know that not just you but all the members thought he was giving you the silent treatment. and for you, that hit too close to home. literally.

"ynnie, do you want some more soup?"

felix is met with a timid yes as he happily pours you another serving. but even his bubbly smile couldn't diffuse the obvious tension in the atmosphere. the other 7 didn't know the details of what had happened. chan knew you would want to tell them yourself if you told them at all, but they knew it was bad. because now you barely smiled and chan always seemed tense.

"and salt?"

again, you only nod, reaching towards the jar he was offering, when it happens. all of a sudden. jeongin's arm brushes yours, and as his elbow pushes into your bruise, you yelp, the lid falling to the floor with a loud shattering sound.

the silence that follows immediately after is loud, and everyone notices the way you go completely still. unnaturally still, as though waiting for someone to yell at you. lee know recovers first, and as he bends down to pick up the fallen object, you flinch, and their hearts collectively shatter.

what was the matter with you lately?

before they know it, you're gulping the steaming hot soup down, hurriedly apologizing and making a bee line for your room. but this time, everyone can see the tears brimming your waterline.

nobody gets up, but nobody eats anymore either. the silence only intensifies until chan groans, burring his face in his hands.

"hey lix, you mind checking up on her? i don't think she's doing very well."

the blonde boy doesn't need to be told twice. he's making his way towards your room and when he enters, the floor slides from beneath him. you're curled up in your bed, trying to muffle your sobs that wrack through your body.

when you see him come in, your first instinct is to hide. to not show. but it's too late, because he's rushing towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug. its comforting, in a way you have never felt before, and that only spirals your break down further.

felix doesn't know what to do or say. he doesn't know what happened. he doesn't know what could make you feel better, but it's so incredibly heart breaking the way you curl up into yourself as though trying to reject any help that it brings tears into his own eyes.

it isn't long before the others come following, and when chan sees you it's like a part of him dies. you look so small, so hurt, so breakable. and deep down, he knows this could have been avoided if he'd thought twice before lashing out at you.

"yn."

his voice is soft, and when you notice him you're scrambling out of felix's grasp, and he almost thinks you're trying to get way from him. but then you're throwing yourself into his arms with apologies tumbling out along with your sobs. he tries to calm you down, running a hand through your hair, but you're inconsolable. they have never seen you cry like this before.

"calm down, angel. please. talk to me."

it's the first time chan has spoken to you in more than a week, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it. how much his silence had been affecting you.

"please don't be mad at me." you whimper as chan guides you sit on your bed, the other 7 hovering around unsure of what to do but concern reflecting in each of their eyes.

"mad? i'm not mad, ynnie. i'm concerned."

his words come as a shock.

he's concerned?

"but i'm crying."

"that's exactly why i'm concerned."

"oh."

you've never heard these words before. you never thought you would. growing up, showing emotions was a big no. crying was almost a taboo. showing emotions was for the weak, as your parents would say. they didn't wish to raise a weak daughter. nobody ever showed you concern. it was either anger or silence.

you've run out of tears, but dry sobs still shake your body every few seconds as chan holds you closer, motioning for the rest to sit down.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head. no. you were bad at talking about your feelings. they didn't have to know. it's not that important.

"you have to open up at some point, yn."

"i don't want to burden you guys."

"burden us?"

even seungmin, who usually stays expressionless during conflicts, seems appalled.

"yn, your emotions are not a burden."

"that's not what mum used to say."

you didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slips from your mouth and they all seem to have heard it.

chan's grip on you tightens. none of them knew much about your family. you didn't like talking about it. now it was slowly coming to them exactly why this preference could be.

"you can trust us, you know? we want to be there for you."

"i do trust you."

"then why won't you tell us what's wrong."

"don't want to annoy you any further."

the guilt gnaws at chan as felix pulls you away from his grasp, snuggling you into his side.

"yn, i wasn't mad. i was trying to give you space."

"i thought you were ignoring me." and in a smaller voice you reluctantly add "like my parents used to. everytime they were mad."

even han is somewhat misty eyed as felix runs calming circles against your upper arm.

"we would never give you the silent treatment."

"yeah! we love you way too much for that."

"is that why you're so closed off?"

"changbin! you can't just ask her that."

you giggle tiredly, earning a small smile from chan.

"it's alright. i'm glad you asked binnie. i think i'm ready to tell you guys."

they're all attentively waiting, and you shift uncomfortably. you never thought you would have this conversation.

"growing up, my parents didn't encourage me to express myself very much. i wasn't allowed to make mistakes, and if i did, they would give me the silent treatment for days on end. i hated it."

your voice is so small and fragile it breaks their hearts a little more.

"i've gone weeks trying to get my mother to speak to me normally. to act like she cared. but she'd always be so cold, insistent on punishing me for every little thing."

"and-" your voice broke, making hyunjin join felix in smothering you with cuddles.

"take your time, yn."

you hum, closing your eyes to stop the fresh wave of tears.

"and when chan stopped talking to me, i felt terrible. i thought i disappointed him too."

there was no more place, but chan joins the tangle of you, felix, and hyunjin as well, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel that way ynnie. i had no idea."

"it's not your fault," you admit, leaning into his chest.

"are we good now?"

"i hope so."

chan lets out that breathy laugh of his which you've grown to love over the years.

"don't ever hide your feelings from us, ynnie. you're a part of us. we don't want to see you hurting."

felix bops your nose as you smile, and it's all so corny and sweet, but it's also exactly what you need.

"now can we please have a movie night?"

"yah! jeongin. give her some time."

"no no, i'd actually love that. please?"

they're all ready to do whatever you want. it warms your heart and you almost cry again. nobody ever did this for you. you learned to think you didn't deserve it.

but here these 8 boys were, scrambling around trying to a build you a pillow fort and searching the shelves for snacks, yelling at each other across the house.

and as you're sitting there, you think that this could be your favorite site. they could be your favorite people. this could be your favorite memory. this feeling of being at home could be your favorite forever.

©lixie-phoria, 2023 taglist : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- 2 am(smut)

Time wise takes place in season 1, I don't think my timelines exactly right but I can't find exact dates since they're lot really specified.

I’m on a Fuckin role!

4.2k words!!! Not at all edited I just finished this and posted it

5/22/23

Your pov-

It's not every night you get a call from Greg House  to come to his apartment at 2 in the morning...but here I was standing in the entrance room of apartment 221 about to knock on the door to apartment B.

I've been to his house before, I've known the asshole for 11 years, I met him a year before his golfing incident.

I raised my hand and knocked on the door, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough to not alert the neighbors. I waited for a few seconds of nothing and knocked again, a few seconds later it opened.

"Get in." He promptly spoke, turning around and immediately walking away.

I came in, shutting the door behind me. I kicked my slippers off as i gazed over at the piano, which was obviously being used a bit earlier by the open music and shuffled around music sheets on top. Last week it was tucked in the corner, now it's facing out into the room. One guitar was hung on the wall, the other on a floor stand.

On his coffee table was a half empty bottle of whiskey and a few scrambled folders.

"I was sleeping you know." I said as he came out of the kitchen with a mug. He was still in his work clothes, well the T-shirt and pants part of it, and Now I'm noticing the smell of coffee.

"Fully aware, sit." He plopped down onto the couch and leaned forward, resting his cane against the arm of the couch on his side.

I let out a sigh as I walked over, plopping down next to him. He handed me the red mug right away and I grabbed it.

"That's one hell of a tank top." He commented and I looked down at myself. It was white, and tight. I didn't get dressed alright, I threw on some plaid pj pants, grabbed a zip up hoodie, and threw on my slippers and left.

"Shut the fuck up Greg. I gotta be in the office at six." I took a sip from the mug,"this is fucking good."

"Good, so look at this." He handed me a whole file so I put the mug down on the table and leaned back with the folder.

"Anna Mae Johnson, 56, female..Hallucinating and loosing her vision." I looked up from the file and looked at him, leaned back in the corner of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You were the only neurologist that picked up my call." He shrugged. I'm not just a neurologist, I'm also an ophthalmologist and general surgeon. I didn't let my scholarships at Stamford go to waste. "And, frankly I don't feel like spending another 3 hours with this women."

"Wilson didn't pick up?" I raised my brow.

"Oh no, he did. And he told me to fuck off." He half smiled for a second and i rolled my eyes.

"Could've called me down when I was at the office Greg." I shook my head at him,"Wheres the scans and tests?"

"Red folder." I put down the file and opened up the red folder.

I saw brain scans and negative labs, I was looking for an Amsler grid report or a OCT.

"Did you get an ophthalmologist to look at her eyes?" I looked over at him and he raised his brow at me,"her eyes. She's loosing her vision, did you get some sight tests?"

"Should be something in there." I rolled my eyes at him as I flipped through papers,"Why her eyes?"

"I thought diagnostic medicine was your specialty?" I shot at him and heard his scoff," because macular degeneration, loosing the vision." I opened up the patients file and flipped to the medical history, I felt him shift on the couch, he was sitting closer to me, leaning forward to look at the file...or maybe my chest.

"The gears are turning." He poked my temple.

"Alright, She started having problems with her vision 3 months ago, blurry and getting worse. She went to the eye doctor to change her prescription, it worked for 3 weeks and she never went back. Could be wet AMD."

"abnormal blood vessels growing under the retina. Which have been leaking blood or other fluids, which causes scarring of the macula."he nodded slowly as he looked towards the fireplace.

"So do Anti-VEGF treatment. But the hallucinations aren't a symptom of the AMD. Could be Charles Bonnet syndrome, that's a symptom of vision loss, lack of light entering the Retina so the brains creating images to fill the void." I explained and he hummed.

"can't treat the CBS, but we can treat the AMD, either with the anti-VEGF or laser surgery."

"VEGF first, then the laser." I closed the folders and grabbed the mug and leaned back in the leather couch. "what else?"

"That's really it."He looked back at me and I cocked my head in disbelief at him.

"You didn't know it was AMD or CBS?" I took a sip and he shrugged.

"Had a slight idea, needed a 4th opinion." He grabbed the whiskey bottle and opened it, pouring some into his glass. He closed it and leaned back, holding his glass on his right thigh.

"At two AM?"

"We'll considering you were teaching from three to five, i couldn't bother you. I knew I could get you at two AM, I've gotten you at four." I shook my head as I took snother drink from the mug,"why haven't I hired you?"

"Because I like having my own office." I answered,"my turn, why in the last eleven years haven't I slapped you yet?"

"We'll, for like 5 of those I was married."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Might've wanted to jump my bones afterwards, I've heard some things." I let out a laugh at the smug look in his face.

"We were both single, horny, and drunk." I crossed my right ket over my left leg,"it doesn't count."

"Oh wilson counts it." He smirked snd wiggled his brows. I let out a sigh, and ran my tongue under my bottom k-9s with a smirk on my face.

"I'm not tell-"he cut me off promptly.

"I don't need you too, I've heard it already." He looked away from me and looked over at the fireplace again and then to the coffee table.

"Oh really? What was your favorite part?" I asked sarcastically, Wilson told me he didn't tell anyone we screwed, but I know Greg doesn't count.

"When you- and I quote- sucked his soul from his dick and then rid him like a fucking pornstar." He finally looked at me,"the scratches you left on his back were also very impressive."

"Wow alright." I felt my heart in my throat, not in a bad way.

I sat up and placed the mug on the table, uncrossing my legs and standing up.

"I'm going-"

"No you're not," he grabbed my wrist, not hard but strong enough to keep me,"you wanna see how far this will go. You're blushed, got a little shake in your hand." He let go it my wrist," And I gotta say, your tits look great. It'd be a crime to not give them attention."

"Is that the Vicodin or whiskey talking?" I sat down if the edge if the couches arm, he was placed in the middle of the couch now.

"Me."

"What? Is a Hooker not available for a night call?" I love giving him a hard time.

"I thought she did arrive?" He gasped and looked at me with a shocked expression. I scoffed at him.

"So what? You call me to come here, have me look at your patients files and solve it for you, and now you think I'm gonna fuck you?"  I crossed my arms and he cocked his head before nodding.

"I don't think you are, I know you are. Wilson's bad at keeping secrets and you like to talk." He took a drink from his glass,"so either we can fuck, or you can just keep waiting, but you've been waiting awhile so I don't think you want to."  My jaw dropped slightly at his words. Damnit Wilson. 

I slid off the arm and sat down next to him, my toros turned to him, my arm resting on the head of the couch, my brows furrowed.

"So I'm actually here to fuck you?" I asked,"you couldn't wait. just had to have me huh?"

"I can blame you for my acute insomnia lately, that's why I'm awake."  He leaned forward and out his glass on the table.

"I've finally gotten under Dr.houses skin haven't I?" I raised my brow, a smirk on my face.

"You've been under my skin for awhile, it's not new." That was news to me. these last couple of months it seemed like he could care less. He kept me around, but it wasn’t the same. I knew how he was though, why I never brought it up.

“Really?” I got a surge of confidence, and I took it.

I used my leverage on the couch to move and straddle his thighs, making sure I was careful when coming around to his right leg. His hands immediately came and sat on my thighs

“Thought you were leaving?” He looked over his shoulder to the door,”or was I right?”

“You’re right, I wanna jump your bones.”

“What about your six AM shift?” His hands left my hips and came up to take hold of my hoodie by the collarbones,”suddenly not important because you know you’re gonna get fucked?”

“I suddenly don’t have to go in till nine.” He pushed my hoodie off, I let it fall off my arms and he watched it do so, he then tossed it down to the side of the coffee table. When he looked up at me, I let my lips come down on his, he responded quickly. My hands sat on his shoulders and His hands sat on my ass, he used the grip to pull me closer to him. My chest pushing into his.

I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and the coffee on mine. His beard tickled my chin and all I could think about was how it would feel in between my legs, the thought made my hips grind down on him. His finger tips pushed into my skin as he joined in on the motion. Rocking my hips steadily down on his hardening cock in his pants.

A hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his head, my fingers carding through his hair. I could feel my heartbeat in my pussy, snd I could myself getting wet.

He pulled away from me shortly after, but his lips came back to my skin. Placing a trail of kisses from my jaw to my neck, the feeling of his beard caused a small moan to escape as his hands slid up the back of my ass and took hold of the hem of my tanktop.

I felt him bundling it in his hands, though his lips didn’t leave my neck yet, he wasn’t bitting or sucking just leaving open mouth kisses as he traveled to my collarbones and placed a kiss in between them.

His eyes met mine again, his pupils more dilated then before. He didn’t say anything but took the moment to start lifting my tanktop off snd I let him, he tossed it behind me to my hoodie.

“I knew they were nice, but wow.” His eyes were glued on my chest like a teenage boy to his first playboy magazine. his hands rubbed up and down my waist,”sure they’re real? I’ll be able to tell.”

“They are.” I replied as his hands took hold of them, massaging them. I pressed them harder into his hands, I just wanted to feel him. If I was gonna screw Dr.House, I might as well make it good.

I kept my hips rocking on him, my hips rocking faster and I tried to keep my upper half as still as possible. his hard cock rubbing against my clothes pussy. What a night to wear lace to bed. He pressed kisses to my left breast before taking my nipple into my mouth, that hand slid down my ribs and pushed past the band of my pants and slipped right past my panties.

His tongue swirled around the bud as his finger ran right over my slit before diving to my clit.

“Aah yes.” I sighed out, finally reviving what I want, focusing on grinding into his finger. he wasn’t moving it, just keeping it there for me to use. I appreciate it. His mouth left my nipple and me pressed a kiss between both my breasts. Another moan left my mouth as my head lulled back, my lips stayed parted.

“Wet and needy, just as I was hoping.” His hand slipped away from my breast and onto my waist, he held it tightly,”the tough doctor turns into a little bitch when aroused.”

“Focus on me, not yourself.” I retorted and he scoffed.

Something I was expecting was getting flipped my off of him. He had me pinned under him, his good leg kneeled on the couch, keeping my right leg pinned to the back of the couch, also keeping him stable with the help of his new found grip on the couches arm. His finger didn’t leave the clit In the motion, so he started rubbing faster, even added a second finger.

My chest started rising a bit faster as more moans left my lips, and in true men-fashion, right as it was getting good…he pulled away. His hand exited my pants, but both hands came and met the band of my pants. His weight shifted to his good knee as he pulled both pieces of clothing down my legs, lifting them up when needed, then letting them fall. He tossed the clothing with the rest and I sat up and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, taking a moment to start a heated kiss, one that lasted long enough to slide my hands to the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up.

I pulled away from him to get it over his head and arms and threw it behind Me. Grabbing his face and pulling him back down with me resuming the kiss. Grabbed my previously pinned leg and held it over his hip and pulled away from me. His right hand came back down to my pussy. Wet and begging for anything; Which he gave. His middle finger came down to my core, circling it before diving in. A moan louder then the rest ripped out of me.

“If only I could get that sound copied on a record, could listen to it all day.” I looked at him through slotted eyes, meeting his blue ones which shifted from my gaze to my Pussy. His ring finger joined his middle finger, pumping out of me in a medium pace. My back was sticky against the leather as my back lifted up, my boobs lightly bouncing as my chest rose and fell.

“Feels fucking great.” I moaned out, my eyes falling closed. I felt the couch shift and then lips and a beard against my inner thigh. Trailing open mouth kisses to my core. I couldn’t stop the begging from leaving my lips,”please Greg, please.”

“Gettin’ there.” He quickly commented before his tongue latched to my clit.

My body shivered and my eyes rolled back under my closed lids. His fingers finally found my gspot and my hand shot to his hair, tugging on his crown. My hips rolled into his face as he switched between licking and sucking my clit.

I couldn’t help but moan, i was feeling great. My thighs pressed against his bare and warm shoulders, my calf being nudged by his elbow each time he pumped his fingers. My head felt dizzy, my body warm, and my abdominal muscles tight. I was gonna cum already, last bar hookup was 4 months ago and I’ve barely used my vibrator. There was no doubt I was gonna be the quick one tonight. My hips started bucking up, so his free arm pressed down on hips, holding me a bit more still and controlled. He changed his fingers angle snd pressure, curling them in a “come” motion.

“Just like that!” My voice was a higher pitch now, and within a few second, pathetically, k was seeing stars behind closed lids. My nail scratching against his scalp, trying to hold onto him for dear life, my other hand taking hold of the top edge of the couch.

He kept his pace and speed for bit after my orgasm, trying to push me to a cliff. Which he did Successfully, could probably tell my how I was I moaning his name, how wet his chin was, and how wet I was getting, and used it to know when the right time was to stop.

“Wow.” He breathed out as he sat up, adjusting to sit down properly,”now I understand why you eat pineapple everyday.”

I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, my legs were shaking, and I was catching my breath. I felt his weight leave the couch and heard the shaking metal of his belt, so I opened my eyes. I met his gaze which was staring at me and then they went down to where his hands were. Unzipping his pants, about to reveal the dick I’ve wanted to ride for a few years. I sat up, feeling how wet the bottom of my ass was against the leather. Now I understand why the couch is leather.

I pushed his hands away and hooked my fingers into the band in his boxers and started pulling them down, taking hold of his hard cock when it sprung out. He grabbed hold in his is pants from coming down any further then he wanted m, and he simply shook his head grabbing his cane. I respectfully brushed it off, my hand left his boxers band and traveled up his side sitting on his hip. He was bigger then I would’ve guessed, but it made sense.

I let go of his cock and spit onto my hand, taking hold of his and twisting my fist up and down, when I licked his tip. I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was rested back, obviously an expression of pleasure was plastered on his face, his breathing deep. so I let my eyes fall as I look him into my mouth, not wasting time to flatten my tongue, pumping the base of his cock. I felt his hand snake into my hair, grabbing some in his fist. He wasn’t using it to control me, though it wasn’t hard to tell by his tightening grip he wanted to. I would’ve let him, I kinda planned on letting him, but he only kept me down there for a few more moments before pulling me off.

“What are you on?” He asked the moment his cock left my mouth.

“IUD.” I answered catching the breath I needed. He didn’t respond,”it’s fine, as long as the last prostitute you fucked was clean.”

“Made sure.” He assured me as he sat down, letting his cane rest against the couch again. I stood up to get a better placement over his cock. His hands sat on my hips, his lips finding my breast again. I reach around and grabbed his cock, sliding it through my folds before holding it to my core.

I lowered down on it, moaning out at the initial stretch, and he groaned. His head falling back onto the head of the couch as he took a long inhale through his nose and sighed it out, a whispered “fuck” followed suit. Lowered down more, grabbing onto his shoulders, and biting down on my lower lip to stop a moan that would wake the neighbors from coming out. I lowered down completely onto him, taking a bit more then half of him in one go. I curled forward, moaning onto his neck as his finger tips pressed into my skin.

“When was-“

“Four months ago, shut up.” I mean pushed off of him and met his face, a disconcerted look on his face.

“I’m honored.” His tone was cocky and paired with a smirk. He raised hips and lowered me back down, that fuzzy brain feeling was coming back when he did it again, and again. Each time higher to where his tip was only left, snd lowering me down harder.

“Oh fuck Greg!” My nails pressed into his skin, I caught on with his movement, moving my hips with his guidance. He didn’t like slow I could tell, medium pace was where he liked to start at. Slowly getting faster, snd harder.

My brain drowned out into the sounds of our breathing, my moans, and the loudening groans that came from him. I could feel how wet the inside of my thighs were getting. My hips on auto pilot, riding him quickly. His tip bumping snd rubbing into my gspot.

My nails finally dug into his shoulder when his thumb met my clit and my walls tightened around him. Rubbing Harsh circles against the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You look fucking perfect.” I couldn’t open my eyes, too overwhelmed with my nerves feeling like they’re on fire, my heart pulsing in my throat and clit,”and so-goddamn (y/n), squeeze me any tighter and I’m not gonna have a dick.”

“Dram-ah- queen.” I said through my shakey , near breathless voice. I didn’t wanna cum, not yet. It was all Too damn good to not savor it.

So I grabbed onto the back of the couch and started really riding him. Rocking and swiveling my hips into his when I came down, keeping my speed and pace constant, at least trying.

“Oh fuuck me (y/n).” His thumb started rubbing faster, ripping a broken moan from my throat. My chest pushed into his, his fingertips pressing further into my waist, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“I’m gonna cum.” I speedily warned him.

“Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

“Greg-“

“Just wait.” His tone was firm but tinted with a bit of fake annoyance at my greediness.

“Jus’ want you to fill me up, come on.” My breathing was deep as I spoke but sped up when I stopped. My hairline was damp snd so was the back of my knees.

He bucked his hips up into mine, sounds leaning his throat at their own will, so caught up in his own pleasure he couldn’t even care.

Those few minutes felt like torture, my orgasm on the brink of snapping while his thumb is still abusing my clit. The corners of my lips curled when I felt his cock start twitching inside of me, getting more obvious by the second.

“Now.” He spit out,”gonna full up this greedy pussy.”

It snapped, my orgasm ripped through me, my walls spasmed around him which triggered his orgasm. I pushed my body into his, feeling his warm skin radiating against mine. I could feel him shooting into me, mixing with my own orgasm and spilling down my thighs and onto him.

I rode him till I couldn’t anymore, I finally gave out. His cock buried inside me as I laid against him, his hands holding onto my ass as we caught our breath. Soon after he lifted my hips off of him, his cock sliding out of me and I moved to sit on the leather next to him. Holding one of my knees to my body, my head falling back.

“If I knew your dick was that big I woukd be jumped you years ago.” I let out a breathy chuckled snd he hummed.

“I regret not grabbing your Tits earlier, should’ve acted on my impulse.” He said standing up, putting his boxers and pants back on,”so anti-VEGF treatment tomorrow?” He asked grabbing his cane and leaning against it as he looked down at me.

“Let me check her out first and I’ll confirm.” I answered and looked back up at the ceiling. I heard him walk away so I lifted my head and watched him,”where are you going?”

“To clean up and go to sleep, you coming?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“Not again tonight, no.” I replied and he blinked at me a few times, a smile keept to his lips.

“Ha-ha!” He sarcastically laughed before going back to his original expression and limping away. I can’t really be mad, I kinda solved his case and got fucked, but now it’s 3:40, and I have work at six still.

[tropes-and-tales]

The Softest in the World

Day 15:  Fingering (Dave York x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event found here! Is it April? Yes. Am I that far behind in posting that it's April and I'm still working through Kinktober requests? Also yes.) 

CW:  Smut (Fingering; talk of masturbation; oblique talk of vague future sex acts); 18+ only.

Word Count:  4102

AN:  This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by an anon!

AN2: Never edited, never beta'ed. I live and die by my slopping typing.

The first Christmas without Carol goes far better for Dave than he ever thought it would.  Of course he misses his wife, nearly a year out from her sudden death.  Molly and Alice miss their mother too.  But the immediate grief—that sharp, cutting pain that left them breathless and stunned—has faded into a more mellow sorrow.  Ever-present, but it doesn’t take Dave out at the knees anymore.

He knows he owes much of his family’s collective healing to you, the nanny he hired months after Carol died.  You’re the one who stepped in and took charge of their lives.  You never tried to replace Carol, but you’ve managed their day-to-day moments and their larger healing.

This first Christmas was your idea too.  A month in Vermont, away from the family home where memories may have been too thick and pressing to allow for any joy.  It had proved out to be a great idea too:  long days sledding and snow-shoeing and building snow forts leave the girls exhausted by evening, too tired to ruminate about their missing mother.

And it allows Dave more time with you.

Usually you only live at the York home when he’s traveling.  You handle their lives at home—drive the girls to and from school, to and from activities.  You handle the maid who comes in twice a week to clean.  You keep the refrigerator full, get the girls bathed and put to bed with a story and a hug each night.  But Dave is never there to see it—when he returns home from his work trips, you leave for your own apartment.

This month in Vermont?  You sleep in the room just down the hallway from him.  You share a bathroom with him, leave behind the scent of your shampoo and soap after you shower.  He hears you each night when you, like clockwork, pad out into the kitchen for a glass of water that you gulp down until you’re breathless.

More than all of that, he has front row seats to how you care for his girls.  You’re tough but fair.  You cut them plenty of slack, grieving as they are, but you don’t allow them to run roughshod over you.  You play with them, you teach them, and you genuinely seem to love them…and they genuinely love you as well.

Him, though?  Dave can’t seem to get a bead on you when it comes to him.  Your ease with the girls disappears the moment the two of you are alone.  You can’t always meet his eye line.  You flinch away from him if he brushes against you.  Sometimes he wonders if you can sense his former double life—if you have some preternatural prey response to being so close to a predator.  But more than once, he’s caught you watching him on the sly.  He’s noticed your heavy-lidded eyes, the way you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

When he cornered you in the hallway a few days earlier, he definitely noticed how your breathing quickened.

Maybe you can sense his killer nature, but Dave would also guess that you are attracted to him.  And knowing what he does of your character, you probably feel conflicted about that.  Guilty.  Maybe even a cliché, the nanny falling for the widowed father of her charges.

If Dave has taken one lesson from Carol’s death, though, it’s this:  life is short, and life can end in a blink.  Why not live while you can?

-----

The day before Christmas is spent in a nearby town.  You plan it, of course, and you layer in fun stuff with all the errands you have to run and make it a family affair.  You take the girls ice skating at a nearby pond.  Dave stands along the rink’s edge and watches you take lazy circles on the ice, Molly’s and Alice’s mittened hands firmly in yours until they get comfortable on their own.  Then you skate over to him, and the two of you watch in silence.

Then there’s hot chocolate at a nearby café, last minute presents for the stockings, and the grocery store.  You return to the cabin laden with bags, and the evening flies by.  You and the girls make flat breads for dinner, and afterwards, you put on a Christmas movie while the girls put the finishing touches on the tree Dave bought earlier in the month.

Dave helps the girls with their evening baths.  He gets them tucked into bed, reads them a story.  He presses a kiss to each of their foreheads, and they are out like a light before he’s even quietly clicking their bedroom door shut behind him.

As he’s been tending to his daughters, you’ve tidied up in the kitchen and living room, and now you’re pulling the wrapped gifts from their hiding spot in the hallway closet to arrange them under the tree.

At the sound of his footfall, you glance up and offer him a smile.

“They out already?” you ask.

Dave chuckles.  “Before I even left the room.”

You smile, brush the back of your hand across your forehead, miming hard work.  “It’s exhausting work, trying to exhaust them.”

“And you manage to do it every time.”  He joins you near the tree, kneels down beside you.

“Sometimes I make them run laps at home,” you reply with a laugh, and maybe you don’t notice your casual use of the word home, but Dave notices.

Dave notices everything.

He noticed, for example, how you stood by him at the skating rink, perfect posture and a tension radiating off of you when Dave moved close enough for his coat to brush against yours.  He noticed the way you ducked your head at the café, how you pretended not to hear the women who sat nearby and remarked on the lovely little family that you, Dave, and the girls made.

He notices now how you lean away from him just a fraction, how you start when his fingers touch yours each time he hands you a wrapped gift to place.  He notices that you won’t look at him, that you keep your gaze carefully fixed on the presents or the tree.  He crowds you closer, plays dumb about it, and he notices when the pink tip of your tongue darts out and licks a wet line along your lower lip. 

Part of Dave—the dark part of him, the predator in him—wants to grip your face between his hand and force you to look at him.  He wants to hold your gaze until it’s too much for you; he wants to stare at you until you squirm and beg him to let you go.  And then he wants to not let you go, your begging futile—he wants to hold you tighter and lean in and draw his own tongue along that bitable lower lip of yours.

He keeps that part of him at bay.  He knows he has to go slow.  Slow movements.  You freeze around him, but if he comes on too strong or too fast, you’ll bolt.  He needs to quiet that prey instinct, make you feel safe.  Alleviate your guilt, if you have any, at being attracted to a widower.

So Dave decides to seduce you instead. 

When you reach for the next gift, he instead grasps your wrist lightly.  He can feel your pulse against his grip, and he hears the breath you draw in.  He holds you like that until you have the courage to look at him, and he smiles at you to put you at ease.

“I’ll finish up,” he tells you, his voice low.  “Why don’t you go get a bottle of wine and some glasses?  We can have a drink on the couch.”

You hesitate…then nod.  It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but Dave loves the hesitancy, then the obedient way you stand up and do exactly as he says.  It’s not hard for him to imagine other things he could order you to do, the same uncertainty before you obey him.

-----

The wine is Moscato-adjacent.  It’s one of those local vintages made with fruits other than grapes, and far too sweet for Dave’s taste, but you had picked it out at the grocery store, so he sips it carefully and hides his winces when the cloying sweetness burns against the back of his throat.

You?  You nearly gulp it down, and he realizes how nervous you are to be here:  alone on a couch beside him, the room dark except for the lit-up Christmas tree and the crackling fire in the fireplace.  It’s romantic, but you’re his employee, and he swears he can feel you flailing out of your depths to find yourself in this moment.

“Easy,” he says.  He stills your hand when you reach for the bottle.  You’ve bolted down the first glass so fast, and Dave doesn’t want you drunk.  He doesn’t even want you tipsy.  He wants just the barest bit of your nerves soothed, but he wants you fully in control of yourself. 

He wants you to be completely, stone sober when you beg him.

“Slow down,” he continues.  “You don’t want to overdo it.”

You laugh, a nervous giggle that spills out of your mouth, and you start to say, “I just…” but you trail off, don’t finish the sentence. 

What were you going to say, Dave wonders?

I just am nervous.

I just think this is too much.

I just think it’s wrong.  It’s too soon.  It’s too complicated.  It’s too unseemly.  What will people think, if anyone ever finds out?

“It’s okay.”  He says it soothingly.  He eases your empty glass out of your other hand, and he sets it down along with his own mostly-full glass, but he does it with one hand—his other, he keeps wrapped around your wrist, unwilling to break his hold on you.

“Mr. York…”  You start, and he hears the nerves in your voice.  He hears the wobble in your words, the faint tremor, but he also swears he can hear desire too—a huskiness to your voice, the slightest rough edge.  And you squirm in your seat, just a bit, but you don’t try to pull away from him.

“Mister York?  Since when did I become Mister?”  It shouldn’t be so hot, you calling him that, formal with the tremble in your words, but then you breathe out his first name—Dave—and you draw it out, and that’s even hotter.

His hand on your wrist, he pulls you to him, tugs your upper body towards him, and you let him.  You go willingly, but your eyes widen.  In shock?  Fear?  Lust?

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, his face inches from yours.  “If you don’t, say so now, and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

The tip of your tongue darts out, licks nervously against your lower lip.  “It’s just…”  You take a breath, try again.  “It’s just complicated.”

“That’s not a yes or a no, baby.”

You huff and offer him a tremulous smile at his use of a nickname, so he adds, “it’s a simple question.”

You hesitate, and Dave wonders if you’re really conflicted about it.  If you’re weighing how your life will change depending on how you answer…

…or if you just don’t want to seem eager, because you nod, then whisper “yes, I do want this,” and when he bridges the remaining distance between you, you’re right there, ready and eager to slot your mouth over his, to part your lips to his searching tongue, to cup his stubbled face with your free hand.

-----

Other men might take you then and there.  They might claim you right on the couch, in front of a dying fire and a Christmas tree sparkling with lights.  They might rush it, make it some sweaty, sad fumble, then parting to each slink to separate bedrooms.

Dave York has always enjoyed the long game.  If he were a game hunter, he would enjoy it better to sit in a tree stand for hours before dawn.  He would relish the cool planning, the stalking, the calculating and recalibrating as needed.

Dave York doesn’t fuck you just yet.  He wants to give you a taste, just a morsel, because he wants you slavering for it.  He wants you looking at him with those wide eyes, that lower lip caught between your teeth, as you beg him for more.

So this night, he only pushes you gently back against the couch as he kisses you.  He lowers himself onto you—lets you feel the weight and heft of his body against yours, lets you feel how he can press you into the couch with his weight.  He lets you feel the length of his growing erection where it presses against your hip, and each little whimper makes him harder.

He kisses you deeply—tastes the glass of Moscato you gulped down, tastes the sweetness of you beyond the tart, sweet wine.  He slides his tongue against yours, licks the inside of your mouth, and he smiles inwardly when you shyly try to do the same.  You are mostly led by him but there’s little movements—your tongue pressing back against his, say, or the upward press of your hips as you search for friction—where you try to lead too.

He braces himself with one hand, which allows the other to roam free.  He cups your flushed face, feels the heat of your blushing.  He draws his hand down, traces a path down your neck, circles his palm there, feels how much he can fit in the span of one palm.  Not because he likes choking—he’s never been into breathplay or anything so risky, but he does like the tame feel of his hand partially around your neck with the feel of your pulse and the ragged breaths you pull in.

Then lower.  He grasps the softness of your breast, and even through the sweater and bra, he can feel your pebbled nipple.  He brushes the pad of his thumb over it, back and forth, and it makes your hips lift up again…and then you groan when you find nothing to meet you, no friction and no touch.

“Be patient,” he whispers in your ear.  He nips at your lobe, darts his tongue against the whorl of your ear, and you whimper at the sensation of his hot breath fanning over you.

He moves his free hand lower still.  He finds the hem of your sweater, snakes his hand under it.  Then he finds the waistband of your leggings.  He sends up a silent prayer that he gets to live in a time and place where leggings are a thing—no tricky buttons or zippers, just an elastic waistband so easy to slip his hand under, and he cups your mound through the soft cotton of your panties.  Dave chuckles near your ear, then lifts his head to look at you because you’re already wet there, the damp cotton cleaving to you as he skates his fingers over you.

“Bad girl,” he whispers.  “Getting wet for your boss.”

He’s watching you as he says it, and he sees the flash of hurt that crosses your face before your pupils get wider and your lips part, as you breathe out a heavy breath.  You’re such a good girl; Dave obviously vetted you before ever letting you into his girls’ lives.  Straight A student, honors, full ride in college.  Not even a speeding ticket in your history.  He bets you’ve never been called bad, never been a bad girl, and it seems to hurt you for a beat before you embrace this tamest step outside of your erotic comfort zone.

Dave has so many more steps he wants to lead you on.  He wants to take your hand in his and lead you into darker, deeper waters.  He imagines spanking you, binding you, blindfolding you.  He imagines twisting your innate desire to please into something sensual; he imagines training you to greet him on your knees.  He imagines rewarding you, calling you a good girl instead, fucking you senseless until you are left overstimulated and weeping, ruined for any other cock but his.

“Is this just from right now?” he continues, and he strokes you through your soaked panties, feels how they are molded to your folds and cleft.  “Or have you been thinking about this?”

“I don’t—”

“Tell me.”  He pinches you lightly—not enough to hurt, but the sensation pulls a gasp from you, and your hand flies up to grasp his bicep where his bracing arm is near your head.  “Tell me why you’re so wet.”

“I’ve been thinking about this.”  It comes out a whisper, barely audible.  Tinged in shame, and that’s the first thing Dave will burn out of you.  Guilt.  Shame.  He’ll break you down and tear those useless emotions out of you.

“When?”  Another light pinch, another gasp.  Your hand grips his arm harder, and Dave will see dusty little bruises there in the morning.

“Since….ah, since a while.”  Another pinch, and you add, “over the summer.”

The summer.  When Dave was around more due to his busy period at work dying off.  When Dave ran each morning and returned home to find you cleaning up the breakfast mess, when he shed his sweaty shirt and walked through the house on his way to shower.  When he pretended not to notice the way your eyes followed him each step, and when he pretended like he needed a glass of cold water, shirtless, that he drank down in your eye line.

Bad girl indeed.

“You touch yourself to the thought of me?”  Here he moves his hand, shifts it to slip under the lacy band of your panties, and he’s delighted to feel a strip of damp curls there, happy that you haven’t shaved or waxed yourself bare.  He drags his fingers through them, then finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he touches you lightly there.  Strums you with his thumb and chuckles at the keening whine that tears out of your throat.

“Answer me.  You touch yourself, thinking about me?”

“….yes.”

“Like this?”

“S-sometimes.”

“Not every time?”

You fix him with a pleading look, but you’re barely able to hold his gaze for long.  When he brushes his lips over your cheekbone, he can feel how hot your face is.  This is a challenge to you, possibly humiliating, but also arousing because you continue to lift your hips, chasing the touch you’re desperate for.  Such a soft little thing, the softest in the world, and yet you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of him.

Dave stills his hand, and he chuckles again at the groan of disappointment you make.  “Tell me or I stop.”

You swallow, nod.  “Sometimes I…I have a vi…a vibrator.”

He can imagine it; a sad little tucked-away piece of silicone or plastic.  You probably pull it out in the darkness of your room, ashamed at pleasuring yourself.  You probably bury it under your socks and blush when your hand brushes against it when you’re putting laundry away.

He hums, considers the mental image that rises to his mind.  Your legs spread under the covers, running the toy over your clit, maybe pushing it inside you.  Imagining it was him instead.

Not that different from the times he’s gripped his own cock, stroked himself in the shower or in his room and pretended it was you instead of his hand.

Dave could demand to know your fantasies.  He could make you tell him what scenarios you’ve used to get off to him.  Him bending you over the kitchen counter?  Him fucking you in the shower?  Him sneaking into your bedroom at night, sliding under the covers and slipping his already-hard cock into your tight little pussy?  He could make you blush harder and demand to know these things, but he wants to take this slow, so he kisses you instead, murmurs his thanks, calls you a good girl for answering his questions, and when your face lights up at the praise, Dave pushes one thick finger into you and draws the sweetest, throatiest groan from you.

Other men might take you then and there, but Dave only finger-fucks you.  He goes so slow, eases it out, pushes it back in so you feel every goddamned bit of him entering you.  He keeps his thumb firm on your clit, and just the pressure makes you whimper each time he presses a little harder.

He adds a second finger and feels the delicious stretch as your pussy cedes to him.  You’re unbelievably warm, slick, and your pussy twitches and pulses around him each time he breeches the confines of your body.  It’s tight, but you’re nervous, and each bit of praise—good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, just relax and let me make you feel good, baby—makes you unclench a bit more.  You relax, and you find the rhythm that he fingers you, and you lift your hips to meet his fingers.

When he adds a third finger, you hiss at the thickness of it, the tight fit.  He stills, watches your face for any pain, and when he doesn’t see any, he continues.

Three fingers is a good start to preparing you for his cock, he thinks.  He imagines the feel of pushing into you, mounting you, and he imagines your fingers digging into his shoulders as he bottoms out in you.

In due time.  Now he fingers you, he scissors his fingers inside you and feels the answering throb in his erection each time you whine or whimper or groan, the sweetest symphony of sounds he’s able to pull from you.  When he starts circling your clit with his thumb, when he crooks his fingers inside you, pressing gently until he finds the spot that makes you gasp out his name, but you call him Mister York again, and it unlocks something inside him, the power you’re letting him have over you.  He dips his head and sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, right at the pulse point, and you gasp again.  Your other hand flies up and cradles the back of his head, and you twist your fingers through his hair, but you don’t pull him away—you hold him there, and he licks against the dimpled marks he’s left in your skin, he breathes against the wet line on your neck, and he’ll see a lurid bruise there in the morning too that will make him instantly hard.

“You’re going to come for me,” he growls against your neck.  “You’re going to be a good girl and come when I tell you.”

And his mind boggles at the possibilities with you because you do exactly as he says.  You nod at his order, and you press your hips in time to his searching fingers, and he feels when your orgasm approaches because you lose much of your embarrassment.  You swear in a hoarse whisper against his head—oh fuck, D-Dave, fuck fuck fuck, I’m close, I’m gonna, oh, don’t stop—and you spread your legs wider to make room for his hand, and the lurid sound of his hand working against your wetness doesn’t seem to even register to you.  The entire living room smells like sex and you don’t care, and when you gasp and buck your hips up into his hand, he feels your orgasm break around you:  the pulse of your cunt gripping his fingers, the hot slick of cum that coats his hand, the way your body shakes under his.

He fingers you through it.  He draws out your pleasure until you shove at him lightly, tell him it’s too much, and he stops.  He feels the tension of your orgasm—the arching body, the trembling—leave you, and you lay underneath him, sated and heavy with your release.

Dave draws his hand out from under your clothing, and he straightens the hem of your sweater where it rode up a bit.  Then he fixes you with an unblinking stare and lifts his hand to his mouth, and he smiles at your shocked expression as he licks his fingers clean.  Then, with the taste of you on his lips, he lowers his head and kisses you again—deep and slow, so you can taste yourself too.

“Good girl,” he tells you when he breaks the kiss.  “You’re going to be such a good girl for me.”

[danibee33]

Don't mind me, just thinking about Johnny keeping a secret...

(render cr: @ave661)

word count: 1k

—> heads up: smut warning, unprotected p in v, gently edited, *parts in italics are flashbacks*

— Thinking about how it’s nearly sunset when the team finally lands back at base. The mission had been easy comparatively speaking, as always, recon took the longest- and, like always, it was Johnny’s least favorite part. See, he hated the waiting, hated the twiddling his thumbs, hated the boredom of it all. Johnny liked to be moving, always, in whatever way he could be. 

Idle hands lead to evil thoughts, or however the saying goes-

Sure, he had Ghost there, but he could only do so much with the dry humor and witty banter, not that the Lieutenant wasn’t good at it- in fact, Johnny really didn’t mind working with the broody man one bit.

Slowly, but surely, and certainly never to be admitted by Ghost, Johnny thinks he’s managed to break him down a bit. He was good like that though-

Never one to back down from a challenge.. Never.

"What can I get for you?”

Johnny had noticed the cute little bartender right away.

The bar itself was always the same when they were home, a local place overwhelmingly patronized by military folk due to its proximity to base, but she was an undoubtedly new face.

And he would know, but that’s neither here, nor there.

She was a sweet thing, with long, dark chocolatey hair that hung in perfect waves down her back, and the biggest brown eyes he thinks he’s ever seen- 

“Scotch.” He says, a lopsided grin on his lips, “and bourbon, for the big guy.”

Without missing a beat, she huffs out a laugh, meeting Ghost’s eye for only a moment before returning her gaze to Johnny, “What? Big Guy can’t order his own drink?” 

Oh, isn’t she trouble..

“Actually, I believe he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.” Simon barks out, rolling his eyes at the way the bartender giggles, her hands moving at the same time to pour to perfectly measured drinks-

“Would you like to open a tab?” 

“Yeah,” Ghost speaks again, the crystal glass comically small in his hand, “Lover boy here will cover it, won’t ya, Johnny?”

He walks away before the Scot can give an answer, leaving the two behind to continue on with whatever this was. But, Johnny doesn’t have a problem with that- he’s almost grateful, as he digs in his back pocket, eyes never leaving hers. And even though he could blatantly see other people patiently waiting to have their orders, she doesn’t move, 

“What’s your name?” Sweet Thing takes the card from between his fingers, and he doesn’t miss how her fingertips linger over his for just a moment longer than what would be necessary-

Such fucking trouble..

But, to his surprise, as soon as she has the card in the system, he watches her give almost the same exact treatment to the man standing to his left, and then the man next to him- though, her little giggle wasn’t nearly as warm with them. Or maybe that’s just his own hubris coming out. Either way, he turns on his heel, heading to the table where Simon and Gaz are already sat, chatting idly and sipping on drinks, 

“Surprised you’re back already.” Ghost deadpans, casting Johnny a lazy side-eye.

And he hates to think that he’s a bit surprised, too, but- it’s not the first time he’s been knocked down a notch or two, and it won’t be the last, 

“Ach- You’re real funny, LT. Y’know that?”

“Drinks, tonight?” Gaz asks with a cheery lilt, looking between the other three.

Ghost gives a noncommittal grunt, maybe a yes or maybe a no, maybe a something in between- they never know with him anyway. And Johnny isn’t sure how to answer, he doesn't exactly want to give away who he has waiting for him- doesn't want say what has his leg bouncing with anticipation, or a barely held back grin every time he looks at his phone now that they’re close enough to the ground to get a signal.

He's spoken of his bonnie lass as sparingly as possible, something deep down in him just needing to keep her to himself for as long as he can. Keep her away from this part of his life-

It’s their Captain that speaks up first, 

“Not tonight, boys. Havin' dinner at home.”

"Say that again, Bonnie..”

It’s hard to form a coherent sentence, but she manages to moan out his name again, “Oh, fuck, Johnny.. Right there, baby.”

The back seat of Johnny’s truck had to be good enough tonight, he couldn’t wait a second fucking longer- which is how they ended up here, him stretched out on the seat as far as he could get, watching her bounce and grind on his cock, riding him like it’s the last thing she might ever do, 

“That’s it.. ” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into the fatty flesh of her hips, hard enough he’s sure there might be bruises left behind for him to kiss tomorrow, “Y’re so fuckin’ perfect- y’know that?”

God, her smile could be enough to send him over the edge right then, her pretty pink lips pulling up, just for him, teeth biting into the plump of her bottom lip, just for him, before parting in the most mouth watering moan- all of it, just for him.

He was hooked, addicted, hopelessly, and irrevocably- he wanted her in every way, and it had only been a handful of months since she finally gave him the time of day.

So, when she buries her face in his neck, letting him thrust into her deeply, wildly, letting him all but throw her headfirst into the blinding pleasure of an orgasm- her silky walls clench around him so tightly he can’t help but to let go, painting her insides white with a low, guttural growl- his voice deep as he guides them both through the high, 

“That’s my girl.. My good fuckin’ girl, huh? God, ya feel just divine.. Can never get enough-” He coos, over and over, lavishing her neck and jaw with kisses, wanting to taste the sheen of sweat on her skin. 

And every time, he wonders how he could’ve gotten so lucky- to have a woman like her want anything to do with a guy like him.

“There’s my sweet girl, how are ya, honey?” Price greets his only daughter with a kiss to the cheek and a warm hug, the type of hug he always and only ever saved for his little girl. He can’t help it, she just seemed too grown now, too tall, too mature with her mother’s calming brown eyes and her dad’s cheeky smile, 

“Hi, daddy-” She says, a beaming smile on her lips, “I’m glad you’re home.”

a/n: i’ve had this one in my drafts for a while 😬 & for the request I recently got for the zombie!au, i promise i’m working on it!!

*whole inspo was this song, because johnny fucking would*

[pleasingforharry]

Agree to Disagree

actress!yn

Y/N L/N and Harry Styles Argue Over The Internets Biggest Debates | Agree to Disagree | LaDbible TV

(Playing Leah and Matthew Hampton in the new movie, The Good and Bad Days)

-

-

“I honestly think my amazing singing abilities shouldn’t go unnoticed. I’m going to have my breakthrough one day,” You shrugged, speaking more to the crew behind the camera. Chuckles passed around, and Harry joined them.

“Yeah, what’s the name of your single going to be?” He asked, genuinely interested in your idea.

“I’ll probably name it after a vegetable because you apparently love singing about fruits and naming your songs after them.” Both you and Harry shared sneaky smirks, before glancing at the camera. “Think I just gave away a secret. Sorry not sorry.” Harry’s new album, Fine Line, hadn’t come out yet, nor did people know the names of the songs, so your comment exploded on stan Twitter. 

Harry sighed, “Trying to expose me now, competitor?”

You pointed at the camera and exclaimed, “I’m coming for all those Grammys.”

“I thought you were rooting for me to get one?” 

“I can’t root for the competition anymore, sorry,” You frowned, reaching a hand out across the table. Harry instantly took it, even though he was supposed to pretend he was offended, but he wouldn’t pass an opportunity to touch you. “I’ll add your name under mine in Sharpie so we can share it.”

[Agree To Disagree]

You and Harry looked at the table that had ‘Strongly Agree, Agree, Disagree, and Strongly Disagree written down in a line. 

“I thought we were going to be working together,” Harry cocked a brow up, noticing two cups filled with water in front of each of you. 

“Honey, it’s called Agree to Disagree,” you snorted, “we’re supposed to debate.” The producers had explained the simple concept to the both of you earlier, and Harry was there nodding at their words, but for some reason forgot everything that was said. 

You slapped your hand on your forehead while Harry huffed, “This isn’t going to go well at all.” 

“Why so?” You asked, feeling for his feet under the table. There was no cloth covering the sides, so the camera captured Harry tangling his legs with yours. The fans were already in the mist of making edits with that clip.

“Because the nights when we’re up talking, and supposedly “debating” about stuff, I always end up agreeing with you in the end.”

You looked at the camera and smirked. “All true. I’m one persuasive gal.” Instead of verbally agreeing, Harry pushed his glass over to Strongly Agree, and a chorus of laughter strung around the room.

“I think that’s why we’re working out just peachy.”

“Did you just label our relationship peachy?” You squinted your eyes at him.

Harry only shrugged. “I like fruits, what can I say?”

Y/N L/N Leah Hampton

“Alright I’m ready,” you rubbed your hands together and wiggled your brows at your boyfriend across from you.

Harry Styles Matthew Hampton

“Are they easy questions?” Harry asked to the crew behind the camera.

-

HARRY’S ACCENT SOUNDS BETTER THAN Y/N’S

Both you and Harry darted your eyes to your glasses then to each other. You were the first to break out into loud laughter, throwing your head back. Harry rolled his lips inwards and sighed.

“Okay wait, let’s choose then talk about this,” You put one hand up while the other moved your glass to Strongly Agree. Harry paused, thinking about it, before sliding his glass to Disagree. “Oh? You don’t agree?”

He shook his head and leaned back into his chair. “I think yours is beautiful.”

“Oh, what a suck-up,” You laughed, kicking him softly. He blushed slightly and adjusted in his seat. “I know for a fact, Mr. Narcissist, that you think your accent is ten times better than mine.”

“No,” He frowned. You turned to face the camera and gave it a bored look. “Y/N, I always compliment your accent. I think it suits you very well.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t absolutely adore the power your accent has over the world,” You smirked. Harry stayed silent, and you flipped your hair behind your shoulder dramatically. “Would you like me to move your glass?” You asked him.

He shook his head and wrapped his hand around it to push it farther, landing on Strongly Disagree. Instead of acknowledging your scoff, he turned to the crew and camera.

“Y/N has a lovely accent and I think it’s better than mine. Signed Harry E. Styles,” Harry announced, before using the tip of his finger to scribble on the table.

“Well, there you have it folks,” You laughed. 

“Next.”

-

DOGS ARE BETTER COMPANIONS THAN CATS

You both didn’t hesitate to drag your glasses to Strongly Agree, before leaning forward to high five each other.

“No need to bother debating about that,” Y/N rested her chin in her palm, elbow on the table. 

Harry said, “I think cats are great, but dogs are just better. Nothing against them,” he then motioned to you, “and Y/N said her spirit animal is an Australian Shepherd, so I think that just enhances my love for dogs even more.”

You giggled and scrunched your nose at him. “Thank you, honey.” Then you pointed at him. “But you know, people started comparing you to cats, so that might be your spirit animal.”

“Do they now?” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, but I agree with them. Especially cuddling-wise. You snuggle up on me just like a cat would, which I love very much.”

The crew behind the camera awed and laughed as Harry blushed at his girlfriend. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

“You’re never beating those cat allegations, kid.”

The producer suddenly spoke up. “So, if we were to bring out a litter of puppies and kittens, which would you want to—”

“Wait, that’s unfair. Both puppies and kittens are adorable. I love them both,” You groaned.

“You immediately moved your glass to Strongly Agree, Y/N,” They laughed. 

Harry chipped in, “No, I get it. Dogs and cats are different from puppies and kittens.”

You crossed your arms over each other. “Even though it would be difficult, I’d still choose the puppies. But I would, like, sneak a hand over to pet some kittens,” You said, slowly reaching over for Harry’s hand and brushing the back of it.

“Oh, am I said kitten?” He questioned with a chuckle.

“It’s the snuggling. You can’t convince me otherwise that you aren’t spiritually a cat.”

-

Y/N IS A BETTER SINGER THAN HARRY

Harry glared at the crew with a smirk, knowing they were just trying to get him in trouble. Y/N only shrugged and moved her glass to Strongly Agree. 

“I’ve asked him multiple times if I could be featured in one of his songs, but he said my singing f[bleep]king sucks,” Y/N said. Harry immediately slammed a hand on the table and scoffed loudly.

“I never said that!”

Y/N gave him a bored look. “Did you not?”

“I would never, I think your voice is amazing,” He started, nudging his leg against hers, “but what I did say was: I wasn’t doing any collaborations on the album. It has nothing to do with you, babe.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, before turning to the camera. “Did he not just say the same damn thing I just did?”

Everyone laughed.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry sighed.

“I honestly think my amazing singing abilities shouldn’t go unnoticed. I’m going to have my break through one day,” You shrugged. Chuckles passed around, and Harry joined them.

“Yeah, what’s the name of your single going to be?” He asked.

“I’ll probably name it after a vegetable because you apparently love singing about fruits and naming your songs after them.” Both you and Harry shared sneaky smirks, before glancing at the camera. “Think I just gave away a secret. Sorry not sorry.”

Harry sighed, “Trying to expose me now, competitor?”

You pointed at the camera and exclaimed, “I’m coming for all those Grammys.”

“I thought you were rooting for me to get one?”

“I can’t root for the competition anymore, sorry,” You frowned, reaching a hand out across the table. Harry instantly took it, even though he was supposed to pretend he was offended, but he wouldn’t pass an opportunity to touch you. “I’ll add your name under mine in Sharpie so we can share it.”

-

WINTER IS BETTER THAN SUMMER

Both you and Harry had to think about it. You tapped your nails against the glass.

“I’m torn because I like both,” You said to Harry. He nodded, before looking back down at the table. “We go to the beach and stuff during the summer, but I really like traveling with you during winter. Especially during the holidays and New Years, ya know?”

“Is it because you get to kiss me, Ms. L/N?” Harry wiggled his brows. You blinked at him, before looking at the camera.

“Maybe summer isn’t so bad after all.”

“Hey!”

You finally decided to move your glass to Agree, then Harry followed. “Why so, Mr. Harold?” Your chin found your palm again.

He shrugged, “You like winter better, and I like you, so that’s enough convincing I need.” Yeah, the fandom was going crazy over the video, and you were scared to open any social media platforms the next day.

“See, I’m very persuasive without even needing to try.”

“But actually, I do enjoy winter activities more, like the outdoor ice skating and the cliché hot chocolate while laying together near a fire. I’m a real romantic,” Harry said.

“You should be in a rom-com. I’d kill to see you in one,” You exclaimed. “But I think I’d get jealous of the female lead, so probably not.”

Harry smirked, “Who said you wouldn’t be the female lead?” Both of you winked at the camera. “Besides, I do all the rom-com stuff from the movies with you in real life.”

“That is true.” You turned to the crew to tell a quick story. “Last year, the week before Christmas, we went to New York and did all the most cheesy ‘couples during the holiday’ things ever. Remember?” Harry nodded. “Then went to his hometown to do it all over again. And come Christmas Eve—”

“Stayed up with hot chocolate, cookies, Christmas karaoke and movies, and watched Santa on a tracker to see when he’d stop by. It was great,” Harry finished, sighing while he reminisced.

You did too. “New Years was fun, as well.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll do everything again this year,” Harry held your hand. 

“I’m counting on it.”

-

HARRY SHOULD BE CONSIDERED IN THE RUNNING FOR THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE MAGAZINE

Harry waited for your decision first with a smirk. You only furrowed your brows in thought. “What?” Harry asked you.

“I mean, I don’t really need a magazine to remind me that you’re the sexiest man alive. I always know that,” You shrugged. Harry covered his eyes in embarrassment. He was horrible with compliments, especially from people who’s opinion mattered a lot to him.

The producer said, “Can I add a glass so I can put it on Strongly Agree because I definitely agree with your statement.”

“He’s not going to say what he thinks, so you can use his,” You said, moving Harry’s glass to Strongly Agree. You pushed your own next to his, before turning in your chair to the producer. “People magazine should start a yearly ‘Funniest Dad Joker Man Alive’ then Harry would love to be considered in the running. Can you reach out to them and ask?”

The producer gave you a thumbs up. Harry giggled, keeping his hand over his eyes, but his dimpled smile was a dead giveaway that he was enjoying this.

“I’d like him to run for ‘Most Beautiful Man Alive’ because then that should make me the most beautiful woman by association, right?” You suggested.

“Not exactly, but we do think you’d win,” The producer said.

“Also, there should be a couples version,” You shook your finger.

“For sexiest or most beautiful?” Harry chipped in to ask. His hand moved from his eyes so you could look at him.

You shrugged nonchalantly, “Either or, we’d win anyways.” Harry threw his head back to laugh. “What other category would we dominate for a couple’s version?”

Harry bit his lip to think about it. You could tell he was coming up with a Harry joke simply from his slow smile. 

“Oh no,” You chuckled.

“Best Accents, specifically Y/N,” He looked at the camera.

You shook your head at him. “Please tell me you weren't still thinking about that, honey. We moved on.”

“I could’ve brought up the collaboration—”

“Okay, next one!”

-

THE GOOD AND BAD DAYS NEEDS A SEQUEL

You thought that was actually a great question because you weren’t sure. 

“I mean,” You slurred, slowly moving your glass to Agree. Harry kept a short smile on his lips as he stared at you, rather than your glass. You suddenly grew shy. “What?”

“You’re very pretty. I like looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand between your face and Harry’s line of vision. Harry’s legs played with yours, but you upright ignored him.

“I think there should be a sequel, because even though I think it ended perfectly, people would probably want more of Leah and Matthew’s story. They’d want to know what they’re doing after the circumstances of the ending—can’t say much until it’s out—but I’d like another movie.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I think whether there’s a sequel or not, Leah and Matthew got what they really needed. They are happy, which calls for a happy ending. And more conflicts will definitely show up in their long run, so if another movie wants to touch on that, I’d love to see it,” he said.

“I think you guys are going to like the movie as it is and don’t even need a sequel because you’ll be satisfied. But we’ll see,” You shrugged.

-

“Thank you so much for having us,” Harry spoke first.

“Go check out The Good and Bad Days when it comes out in theaters,” You added. “Have a great day, sincerely, from your favorite peachy couple.”

Harry laughed and raised a thumbs up. “Bye.”

-

[unicornsannie]

Golden retriever -Jeong Yunho

Genre:Fluff,Smut

(Edited)

Warning: situationship,bulge kink,size kink

I thinks that's all( let me know if i missed anything cuz I'm rushing😭😭)

"Yunho, why aren't you afraid of Y/N? She's like a ghost and a mystery" Yunho chuckled when he heard his friend, Mingi whisper in his ear while hiding behind him

You saw Mingi looking at you making him realize that he was in danger" Yunho yunho yunho, I think she wants to kill me" Yunho saw you walking towards them.Yunho held you with his palm on your cheek making you bite him

"Don't do this to my friend, black cat .You know we are taller than you."You squinted and tried to hide your red face.Yunho noticed and grabbed your chin to force you to look at him"You want to go now" You nodded as Yunho squeezed your cheek hard

"I'll let you go. I'll see you at home later" You glared and walked away while stroking your chin."Yun, why don't you want to bring this up to her like you're a soft dom-" Yunho slapped Mingi's mouth making Mingi laugh at his actions

"Y/N will see me as a golden retriever with a soft heart and it's impossible if she-" Yunho was silent for a moment as he bit his lip as if he was thinking of something making his face turn red

Mingi gave a sarcastic smile and held Yunho's shoulder while whispering, "You want to fuck her with glasses on."Yunho could only see Mingi over his shoulder and scratched the back of the head

"C'mon Mingi, she's farsighted and must be but her problem is that I'm afraid this is her first time"Mingi nodded and looked at him straight ahead "Are you afraid she's a virgin? You've been with her for almost 3 years and you still don't want to try. Why chase and ask her"

Time skip

"Y/N, are you here?" He didn't hear any response from you until he heard your footsteps he saw you walking in his shirt with no bra and only underwear.Yunho's face turned red like a tomato making you smile

"Honey, are you okay if I borrow this shirt because I have no idea what to wear tonight if you don't mind"You walked towards the mattress and laid down until you felt something next to you to follow you then you turned around to see Yunho playing with the hem of your shirt

"Of course but can I ask something" you nodded and hummed while wiping your glasses "I've been wanting to say this for a long time but I'm afraid that-" Yunho was silent first then looking at you made you look at him back

"Want to start something new like sex?" You looked at him silently and nodded "But I want your opinion too because I want you to be comfortable too"

"With glasses on?" Yunho nodded until you could feel his hands going into your shirt""I want you to be comfortable with your glasses on and without the dizziness" Yunho had his hands travel down your stomach to your breasts making you moan

"Can I?" You nodded without hesitation and he opened your shirt and saw you exposed in your underwear.He brought his face between your breasts and started kissing

He started sucking on your nipples making you moan.He swirls his tongue all over your nipple making you arch your back .He detached his tongue from your nipple making you whine and you can feel the presence of being drenched in your heat

Yunho's hands flew to your panties and opened them revealing how wet you were for him"Look at you, Y/N. I'm already wet even though I'm just starting. I just need to make sure that you're really wet with my tongue there"

You smiled making Yunho's face already in your heat"You pervert"Yunho held your thigh while kissing him leaving a dark purple mark"But this pervert boyfriend will also eat you later" Without words coming out of your mouth he has already eaten you like you are his food that he craves

"argh-Yunho your tongue-"Yunho chuckled and picked himself up and saw you lying helpless on the mattress"That was too fast"You covered your face but Yunho held both of your hands

"I said, I just want to make sure it's wet and it proved you're really wet for me"Yunho took off his shirt and his boxers making you see his cock standing proudly watching him come out with precum

"I want you to be comfortable, just say it and I'll stop okay, black cat" You nodded.He started to insert his cock inside you making you close your eyes tightly.Yunho kissed you to comfort you as he slowly inserted himself

"Yunho, can you" you huffed and held his upper arm "go a little faster" Yunho smirked and sped up"For you, your orders are followed"You can see his cock coming in and out by looking at your belly bulge."Look Y/N, how perfect you are to me that I can see myself fucking you properly"

Yunho played with the bulge in your stomach making you whine and cry.You moaned making your glasses fog up with you breathing making Yunho even more horny

"Damn, Y/N. You look sexy with those glasses. I hope we stay like this" You continued to moan as you reached your high"You started to clench around him making him moan"Fuck Y/N, you can feel your grip around my cock"

"Ah-Yunho I want to-"Yunho cut you off with a deep kiss he made you release your orgasm.Yunho took out his cock and stroked himself until he cum on your stomach

You breathed as you saw Yunho lying next to you."You're...okay my cat" You nodded and hugged his sticky body"Feels great, thank you my golden retriever.I love you"

"Love you too my princess, desire must be fulfilled"

_______________

FIRST OF ALL IS....... I want to say thank you to my boyfriend who helped me brainstorm yesterday and none of this would exist without him😂If he has a tumblr account, maybe I'll tag him now🤗 but he knows I always love him .LIKE...Imagine this wouldn't be possible if he wasn't there for me😂👍

[simp-ly-writes]

Chapter Three: In Dreams

Can be read as a standalone: Personal Hell Series (pt.4)

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

Summary: With the chance to sleep again, you find new definitions to peace that leave you picking up the pieces left from finally answered questions. But were they better left unanswered after all?

Warnings: 3123 words, mentions of violence and mental health, possible gore and death.

A/N: I have written this all so quickly, wow it has been awhile since I have felt this passionate about writing someone- thank you all seriously for the support!!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

Lucifer took a stroll around the gardens that had become overgrown. He didn’t have the heart to weed the poisonous vines that strangled the various flowers underneath, he watches as each thorne moved every so slightly to stab the stem, the petals soon fall in on themselves, the others trying to stand become covered as the same fate plays out before all those left standing. 

The King did not know how much time had passed, multiple servants had come running into the greenhouse, waiting for his attention only to be teleported out of the room a moment later with a mere twitch of his finger. It was in times like these that the royal wished he could dream- losing himself in fantasy, in hope, and in memory.

Clapping his hands together and casting them outwards, gold strings appeared like rays of sunlight through the panes as a herd of ducks wattled their way round his feet. Tilting his head to the side, you appeared materializing through the door and drifting over to him. You did not speak a word. Only standing as he sat there on the bench describing his day, the tea chosen during the afternoon and the evening decisions he made for after the upcoming extermination. 

He chuckled to himself, head shaking before falling to his chest. “You know darling, when I gave that little piece of me, I ended up giving all of me… how pathetic am I…” his laughter only grows as the staff members in wait all bow their heads, doing their best not to listen as their hearts ache. They could only pray that those sightings were real and pray to heaven and back that Lucifer would listen. 

--

“I won a sex-award for this performance, its show and tell… is this not?” Angel Dust comments towards Charlie who hides away from the moans and grunts exiting the speakers. You stand there still behind the box, pretending to trip over the extension cord while mouthing a sorry. Vaggie gives you a thumbs up in thanks before hugging the distressed Charlie in her arms. 

“That was not a good irrigation,” Husk comments, walking over to the crowd while cleaning a cup between his hands. “Well what would you know about a good performance, whiskers?” Angel Dust retorts with a huff, legs kicking over the sofas armrest. 

“Everyone bitches to the bartender, there is not a single thing that I do not know about any of you at this point. You consistently bitch and moan outside of porn as much as you do in it about your boss,” Husk replies, now pouring himself a drink in the fresh glass. 

“Well then prove it,” the Spider comments back childishly as Husk lets out a large huff of air- pointing first at Sir. Pretentious, “That one is an insecure buffoon who watches everyone sleep and the Princess has a bleeding heart of daddy issues that this one,” he waves the neck of the bottle towards you, “refuses to speak to and don’t think yourself to be out of this either Vaggie because you pretend to hate everyone when you really hate yourself. And then there is Nifty…. Nothing more to be said on that.”

Angel Dust blows up with laughter as you are still reeling in this information. You don’t notice as he leaves for work as Charlie desperately tries to pull him back in for the remainder of the exercises, taking this as your cue- you retreat back to your room.

--

You had requested for some art supplies the next time the Hotel was to receive its shipment of goods. You clapped your hands, overjoyed at the colours you had chosen, so neatly arranged in their glass bottles. Fresh Paint brushes with green wooden handles gleaned happily in your face with the wood finish. So enamoured by the supplies, you got straight to work painting the view out your window. 

Pentagram city glowed all throughout the day, its red sky almost caving in the city below with how much blood could be found on the streets. The buildings of all shapes, colours, and sizes sprouted from the earth- trying to escape the destruction but as your brush drifted to paint heaven in the sky, the light blue on your brush hovered as you second-guessed including it in your work. 

Cleaning your brush in an empty jar, you set the cityscape to dry on your balcony as your mind soon turned itself off, you were losing yourself to the art, the barriers that you had created for yourself, burying yourself in work and meetings- now all coming undone in a fiery burst of passion- your hand moving feverishly across the canvas. 

Becoming lost, paint stroke after paint stroke, a voice drifts just behind your ears, as if they were a person in passing, ““You know darling, when I gave that little piece of me, I ended up giving all of me… how pathetic am I…” Looking back at your canvas, you painted your first memory of being in the Garden, eyes blown wide as you walk around ahead of the King and Queen- excitement had taken over any formalities you had prior to entering the space. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, hiding the painting away only to hear a meow just below your feet. 

Leaning the canvas against the food of your bed, you pick up KeeKee, giving the hair between her ears a light pat before coo-ing, “Everything alright?” The cat looks up at you with big eyes, nose pointed towards your door as you follow the silent command. Just as you are about to let the creature go, her claws dig into your shoulders with a wince- making her choice clear. You were making your way downstairs together. 

--

When you descend the stars, pausing just before the last couple of steps, you observe a destroyed bar, crying Charlie and pissed Vaggie. You hold your tongue, hand drifting its way through KeeKee’s fur for reassurance. Alastor appears behind you, just a few steps above as he leans on the railing, silently observing the scene paying out before him. 

“I am not so sure Angel Dust will be okay… I-I really messed up today. He got…It was not good. I pushed too hard earlier and things only got worse. So in light of that! I am going to write tomorrow's lecture on boundaries with a side of one-hundred apology letters,” Charlie states, her tone changing from one of sadness to another of light presenting you with a form of whiplash that has your head spinning- trying to keep up. 

Husk storms out the building soon afterwards, on a personal mission to hunt down Angel Dust and bring them both back to the Hotel safely. “Never a dull day it is here,” Alastor comments, “I second that,” is all you reply with before KeeKee is jumping out of your hands and disappearing into the shadows. Vaggie turns to you both, “looks like we will be cleaning up then in the meanwhile…” and clean up you do. 

--

While taking over Husks position behind the bar, you cork open a bottle of wine, pouring out glasses for everyone that stumbles through the door. Vaggie holds her hand out, murmuring a thanks before necking the glass down while Alastor inspects his jacket, finger swirling around the rim of the glass. You point the bottle towards Charlie, silently asking if she wants a drink as she shakes her head and you pour the rest out for Angel Dust and Husk who appear in brighter spirits. 

“I AM SO, SO, SOO SORRY!” Charlie runs up, squeezing the lemons out of Angel Dust who pats the top of her head awkwardly at first before returning the hug, “It’s alright dollface, I get it. Thank you for caring about me…”

With that being said, Charlie practically chokes the Spider that has him extending his other limbs ushering her in the direction of Vaggies arms who carries her away and up to bed for the day. Husk knocks his head to the side, a silent request for your to get the fuck out from behind his bar. 

--

Sleep had finally found you that night, your eyelids rest to the blackness that surrounds your mind. You feel your covers around you, warming your body as you shift slightly throughout the night. Yet a wetness peaks at your foot, covering your blanket as rain falls once more. It shatters your blanket like pebbles thrown against glass. As you hug yourself from the attack. Your bed rocks back and forth as you look over the edge. High waves you float on, almost going overboard as you desperately grip the headboard. 

Walk… an echoing voice appears in your head, Walk… to me…. Dipping your toes in the frigid waters, you curse out before trying to take a stand. You witness the water level gradually lower with every step you take, you walk freely in the ankle deep waters as they ripple underneath. Carry Forth… The voice motivates you to carry forth as the landscape overhead shifts to a sunrise- you cannot tell where the water ends and the sky begins in this reflection- you become breathless at the sight. It was ethereal. 

A figure soon appears on the horizon and you can take no further step as a light pressure holds your body still. It is as if every inch of your skin is being casted in a hug by light itself. Your breath shutters from the sensation and before you appear a figure incomprehensible to size, they take over the sky before you, white robes drifting like clouds in the sky as a singular finger is offered to shake your hand. 

Their touch is featherlight, knowing of their power. You crane your neck upwards- trying to catch a glimpse of their face yet the light burns your irises as you cast your head down. A chuckle creates waves around you, your body moving without control, pleading for them to cease. A piece of cloth drifts its way over to you, sitting still against the rising waters as you sit on its surface cross-legged. 

You try to speak to the creature before you but you find your voice sealed away- as if it would disturb the peace created here. You watch as fish begin to spawn in the waters, they drift in packs back to the direction of your bed, a snake chases forth as is herding them away. We speak our minds in the literal, the voice softly comments in your head, I hear without the need to speak, to pray, or to sacrifice. You wish to know why you have been brought forth- yet an answer spoken now will led to an endless stream. 

You tilt your head, still casting your head downwards to watch as the creatures all play amongst one another in the ocean below. You can no longer see the bottom, your stomach clutches with unease yet that familiar pressure against you skin has you unable to think of anything else. I am creation as I am fate, your path interrupted has corrupted the ocean, the skies, and the creatures. I have presented you with breath as I do so again. You were not created for this life you live nor for my siblings who sign for your eyes. But I will not have the destruction of all that has to be broken in your absence. 

You speak in riddles, you think to the apparent deity as the waves uproar once more, their laughter blessing their ears as the sunsets and their grandeur falls till they are only just taller than yourself. They sit on the watertop, their face no longer hidden as you gasp at their appearance. They only smile in reaction before summoning a tea set for you both to indulge with. 

Blonde hair, rosy cheeks and grey skin greet your eyes, This is the King's brother... You watch as they laugh out, the wave movements now rain filling your cups as he brings them both up for a cheer. Funny to hear a brother of mine to be addressed with such frivolous titles- even more so when coming from someone dear but perhaps unknowing? 

I still question to this day the truth in it all, you admit while taking your first sip, eyes closing to the perfect temperature of the tea. An art form, questioning is- could be considered a science. It is relentless in the wrong hands and plagues the people. 

We live life in question, is that not what it means to be… human? You question out, not thinking of an answer to be possible and even if there was one, it would quite possibly be past your comprehension. The dietary hums out before you, your cup never emptying as they set their own down against the floating table. Subjective that is, truth- yes but never entirely is anything- even the definite. Alas, I am only an acquaintance to death who would define the truth to humanity. Us immortals never grasp the concept of living- no matter the effort placed. Yet it is in these thoughts that I have learned you are for. 

You rest your cup on the table as they hold out their white-gloved hand and your world swirls face falling into the waters below as you look through someone else's eyes. A guard stands silently in your… office. You gasp as does the guard you inhibit. Your eyes snap upwards to see a growling Lucifer, “I have requested for silence during my studies- need I remind you to not look into my eye?” 

Your breath hitches, eyes going wide as you take in the King's dishevelled appearance, your desk scattered with papers, your walls covered in illustrated memories yet other than that- not a singular thing has been misplaced. You shake your head, bowing it before the royal as he walks back behind your desk without a second glance, staring at the various maps you spent decades drawing to pin-point precision. 

The coldness of the water has you gasping and flailing your own libs as you are taken back to the cloths and seas, back before the sitting the deity who hums out a soothing tone once more. I cannot have the mis-balancing of death. That is why I personally ensure your return as in return I present you with the final bow. You WILL meet my brother when he arrives in due time and I cannot speak more without the worrying of fates. 

But- you start to protest without taking another thought, your emotions in a whirlwind yet nothing disrupts the peaceful atmosphere of your dream and the deity before you. With a wave of their hand you are flown back into your bed, underneath the covers that absorb every drop of sea that has touched your skin and you wake up with a silent scream. Hells red skies before you and the relentless city bustling just underneath. 

Your earlier painting of the cityscape and the Garden were not where you left them last. They are now found hanging in front of your bed, staring into you, into your subconscious as you debate between dreams in reality as you wake your way into the elevator and down the stairs where breakfast waits freshly prepared.

--

You look around the breakfast nook in the kitchen, confused when a lack of a certain Princess and accompanying girlfriend are not present at the table. Setting your plate down beside Husks, you take your tea cup with you and into the sitting room where various red strings create a jungle of vines between colourful doodles and sleepless notes. 

A stressed Vaggie addresses a sleep-deprived Charlie who rushes around, clutching her hair in frustration, “WHY WONT THIS HOTEL JUST WORK!” you wince at the tone she yells in this early in the morning just as Vaggie had called it quits observing and picks the girl up, pulling her down onto a nearby couch, turned away from the insanity. 

But in that moment Charlie partially turns as do you, awaiting for a need to subdue the royal. Angel Dust pats you on the shoulder, easing you to come down again as Husk shoves a new mug into your hands. You did not realise you had dropped your cup earlier. 

“Maybe it's time-” Vaggie beings before being cut off by a crazed Charlie running back up to the boards and moving some strings around, “NO.” “To ask your dad. I know you don’t want to but it’s the only chance we have,” Vaggie finishes her sentence with as Charlie drops to the floor, clutching her head between her knees. 

Your hands sweat, as you look around to anywhere but Vaggie and Charlie. The dream deity had predicted your future, and you could only feel a wave of nausea wash over you as Charlie opened her phone before she quickly slammed it to the ground, “Wait just a sec! That is it! If we call my dad, he can get me a meeting in Heaven!” 

You choke, now leaning against a wall for support. Images of last night, of your office, of the King. Your head pounds as the small voices surround your head, Charlie needs to do this- even when you cannot protect her… 

Charlie picks her phone back up, scrolling through her contacts, her finger hovering over the name as Husks asks, “Daddy issues?” Charlie goes dead silent before looking over at you with apologetic eyes and speaking up, “No… we were just… never close thats all. After you and mom left, he never wanted to see me, he buried himself in work. He calls sometimes when he needs me to do something now.”

“Well I would like to meet the big dick in charge,” Angel Dust comments while looking over at you for a reaction. Your face is neutral, giving nothing away but your fidgeting tells elsewise. “The ultimate bad boy~” Nifty praises as you cringe very loudly as does Charlie. “I bet he’s scary~” Nifty continues while fluffing up her hair and stabbing a bug. You let out a whistle, “yup, scary, that's for sure.”  Charlie's head snaps over to your own, tilting sideways and eyes narrowing. You refuse to elaborate, memories of his threats to a mere guard simply making eye-contact with him. Every fiber in your body calls for escape but you pressure yourself to stay in support of Charlie who takes a seat in the chair that you stand beside. She clicks call and the phone rings thrice before a friendly tone sends your heart soaring to new heights as you pick at your jacket to better hide your reaction.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @tati-the-fangirl @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @amarokofficial

[lcthebtswriter]

starstruck

pairing: dacre montgomery x reader

summary: it's just your luck you have a one night stand with the man of your dreams

tags: @miscellaneoustoasts, @tellmehows, @just-that-trash-blog. @mrsjaxtellerfan, @statsvitenskap, @hardygalwrites (maybe? I meant to tag @hardygal69 but I think you're the same person, lmk)

warnings: smut (18+ only), slight choking, alcohol

a/n: heyyy, couple glasses of wine later and here yall go ;)

How did you end up here?

Falling apart with his mouth on your most sensitive parts, tongue swirling, lips sucking, fingers magically used to make you come undone.

The night was a blur leading up to the climax of your darkest desires. A bachelorette party for your best friend, a flurry of bar hopping and karaoke. It's a small world, as you've come to find out.

When you spotted Dacre at a bar, you acted like you didn't know him. It was difficult to do so when you saw him eye you throughout the night. You smiled, threw him a little wave, and left with your girlfriends for the next bar. You freaked out about it in private, walking in your heels along the sidewalk as the night carried on.

You were quiet in the taxi ride to your hotel, friends packed in the back seat chatting up the driver. The windows were rolled down, the cold breeze sobering you before being dropped off at your destination. Your friends follow you into the elevator, everyone discussing different subjects while you replay the snippet of social interaction with a celebrity. Had you been wasted you probably would have introduced yourself, but tonight wasn't the night. Your friend was to be married in the morning, and you'd hate to take any attention from her. You would have to make do with a story to tell at dinner parties.

After saying goodbye to your friends on their floor, you take the elevator up one more level. You lean against the chilling metal of the elevator wall, about to press the button that shuts the doors when you get the idea for a night cap. The hotel has a lavish bar in the dining area, and you aren't quite ready to call it a night. You're still dolled up and not at all mentally tired, so you decide to press the button for the lobby and head down.

You're surprised to find so few people in the lobby. With it being so late in the night, you expected more people to fill its lavish parlor and using the quaint dance floor to hold their partners close. Someone played a piano on stage, and you listened intently while choosing a seat closest to the music. The bartender looked tired, so you ordered something simple and took your phone from your bag to study the photos taken earlier that night.

The bride-to-be looked so happy. She smiled in every picture. You erase some, edit others, and sip your drink.

Movement in the corner of your eye draws your attention away from your phone. You recognize the combed back hair, the squared shoulders, and the charming gaze and smile of the actor you spotted earlier. He sits two seats down and waves the bartender over. When he notices your figure, he points a finger at you and grins.

"I saw you earlier," Dacre says.

You nod, fidgeting with the thin black straw in your drink. "You did," you say, nodding. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were following me." There's a teasing tone in your voice, a hint that you know who he is but won't make a scene. You wouldn't want the same being done to you, so you keep his peace and he acknowledges that by moving one seat closer.

Dacre gets his drink and swirls the ice around so it melts a bit. "I can assure you I'm not," he chuckles. It's breathy, as if exhaustion has set into his bones. "I just happen to be staying in the same hotel," he says. "What are you here for?" He continues.

"Bachelorette party," you reply.

Dacre nods, eyebrows raised in slight interest. He pieces together your group's nightly activities, not wanting to forget the moment he watched you saunter into the bar he occupied. You took up so much light in the room, practically glowing. It was just his luck you were staying in the same place.

"You guys have fun?" Dacre wonders. His shirt is unbuttoned a little bit, and you find your focus fixated on the bit of skin and chest hair exposed.

"We did! Not too much, though," you chuckle.

Dacre lets out a chuff of air, not quite a laugh but still amused.

"Are you filming for the show here?" You dare ask, hoping the inquiry doesn't scare him off. There's no intention to, at least.

"I'm here on business." He winks at you and takes a sip of his drink. You watch his lips part, watch his tongue as it licks the alcohol from his lips.

"Should I bother asking for a couple hints or is it a secret?" You ask, taking a drink of your own. It's almost gone, and you think about ordering another just to have something to keep you in the moment.

Dacre's eyes finally look at you, dark and mischievous. His eyelashes are so much longer up close, a little feature you never appreciate until it's right in front of you.

"Are you good at keeping secrets?" He wonders, setting his almost empty glass back onto the napkin on the wooden bartop.

You nod slightly, fingers grasping the end of your straw so you can finish what's left in your glass. You cross your legs, drawing Dacre's eyes to the skin of your thigh.

"I mixed business with pleasure tonight," he confesses.

"Really?"

"Just a few drinks. I don't do this thing often, but I'm glad I did tonight."

"So you're all tuckered out, then?"

Dacre hums in disagreement, finishing his drink and turning his head back to you. "I'm not that tired, actually." An unspoken arrangement, a flurry of movement to the elevator, and then you're at the penthouse suite at the very top of the hotel.

There aren't many words exchanged by the time Dacre locks the door. You make the first move, the alcohol making you bold enough to gently pull him to you. Dacre follows your move, pushing you against the wall as he kisses you deeply.

Your fingers grip his hair, eliciting a groan from a man you'd never dream of having this experience with. Your stomach flutters with disbelief and desire, and you kick off your shoes as Dacre grips your waist and grinds against you. His erection strains against his trousers, the thickness leaving you eager to keep moving.

The bedroom isn't too far away, and just close enough for him to guide you while his tongue goes into your mouth. You moan, falling back onto the bed. Dacre leans back on his knees to pull his shirt over his head, and you eagerly sit up to kiss his abs, fingernails raking along the skin. Goosebumps travel up his arms, and Dacre holds your head in his hands to tilt your head back.

He kisses you, skin hot with desire as you ease back onto the mattress. With one hand he undoes his belt as you fiddle with the button of your shorts. You're both hungry for each other, and the kiss breaks so you can tear your clothes off.

Dacre takes his time to make sure you're ready for him. With legs right open, you invite him to taste the wetness that has pooled between your thighs. His eyes roll back when he tastes you on his tongue. His fingers grip your warm skin, hand resting on your stomach to keep you pinned to the bed. He flattens his tongue, sucks on you, and it makes lewd wet sounds. You grip his hair, moaning so loud you know other guests can hear but you don't care. You've never felt so close to coming undone in just a few minutes.

"I need you," you gasp.

Dacre sits up, chin wet and a grin on his face. His eyes are dark and there's perspiration on his forehead. He looks pleased with the sight of you: chest heaving, eyes unfocused.

You're throbbing for him at your core, watching as he takes a condom out of his jeans and rushes to put it over his thick cock. You moan at the sight, opening yourself up to him once again.

Dacre's body weight is looming over you, his frame supported on his right arm. He teases the tip of his cock against your wetness, and you grip his shoulders as if begging him to go in all the way. You can't take it anymore. You want him.

And then you have him.

He stretches you out in such a gut wrenching way your toes curl with pleasure. His cock is warm, the length of it slowly filling you up. Dacre's head drops to the crook of your neck and he pants against your ear. "Fuck, you feel so good," he sighs.

He's inside you now, pausing so you can adjust to the feeling of being one. You're dripping, and his cock twitches inside of you as you tense. He grinds his hips against you, squeezing his eyes shut in ecstasy as your fingernails dig into his biceps. He watches your face as he pulls out, slowly entering you once again until he can do so with ease. Your mouth is agape in awe at how good it feels. So fucking good you're panting.

When he starts to pick up the pace, Dacre kisses you so messily you can barely gasp for air. His cock is pounding against the one spot that makes your vision go hazy. Your back arches, sweat beading upon your forehead. You're full of him - can feel him in your stomach. It makes a coil begin to tighten in the deepest parts of you, and Dacre can tell.

You're milking his cock. He can barely keep his pace, but he doesn't want to stop. He pulls out - much to your dismay - and touches your arm in silent questioning. You flip over onto your stomach in obedience, ass slightly in the air. Dacre groans, legs entwined with yours as his chest lays atop your back. He slides into you with a moan, and he fills you up once more.

It's easier for the tip of his cock to hit that spot without pause. You grip the pillow beneath your head, moaning into the sheets to muffle the sounds of your building orgasm. He's so deep it could hurt if he isn't careful, but he's got a hand on your hip and the other gently around your neck. You lean back to kiss him - a sloppy, desperate kiss as he digs his cock into you.

"Fuck me," you gasp.

The coil comes undone.

You're face down into the pillow, panting his name as your hands grip the sheets in tight fists. Wave after wave makes your body tremble, pleasure clouding your mind as your eyes squeeze shut. Dacre can't help but finish. His cock throbs inside of you, his body limp as you milk him for all he's worth.

He falls on top of you, pushing himself to the side to alleviate the weight of himself on your body. You're both panting, the condom wrinkled at the tip and full of the result of your debauchery. A moment passes as you both catch your breaths, and you break the silence with a satisfied giggle. Dacre smiles, leaning up on his elbows and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"You've got a big day tomorrow," he says.

Dacre is about to get up from the bed to grab you a towel, but you place a hand on his arm to stop him in his tracks.

"I'm not tired yet," you say. Head still buzzing with pleasure, you give him a smile and lay back down. Starstruck and dazed with your orgasm, your body is warm and fuzzy all over you almost giggle from the feeling. You're naked and vulnerable and enticing, and Dacre can't help himself.

He grabs another condom.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! May I just say that your last fic Tangerine x Reader was great??? Like, seriously great?? One question, if you don't mind: are we going to read a piece about that time that Tangerine mentioned him getting angry/yelling at the reader?

I'm super curious, but mostly really intrigued about their relationship!

Hey Anon,

Means the world to me that you enjoyed it!!!!!

I'm currently waiting for work to start but I thought I could do a small blurb. I typed/edited this on my phone and I'm worried about it. This may or may not be loosely based on real events....

Warnings: readers got some trauma, shouting, crying really hard, supportive partner.

He was frustrated and tired. Lemon hadn't shut up all day, Tan knowing it was because he was nervous didn't have the heart to keep telling him to shut up.

He knew his patience had worn thin. Seeing you avoid him made the very last of it evaporate.

He paused and tried to understand what the problem was. He opened the door to the flat, you were sitting on the couch reading. After a brisk hello you were doing dishes and banging around the kitchen.

You clearly weren't going to make it easy on him by confronting him, so he took a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" His tone was a little firm.

You didn't look up from the sink.

"Nothing." You said dismissively before turning on the oven and moving towards the fridge.

Years of his mother looking miserable flashed before him and he grabbed your shoulders once you turned around.

"No." He breathed. "What. Is. Wrong." He had raised his voice more than he intended. What he wanted was to show you that he cared that you weren't alright. That he was taking a serious interest in the problem to fix it for you.

What he got was a whole glass baking pan of casserole dropped on his foot.

He took a shuddering breath unable to curse when your eyes looked so scared already.

"I'm sorry." You whispered before bursting into tears. " I was reading and I didn't notice the time- the dishes and you came home earlier than I thought and I just just - don't leave"

"That doesn't make any sense" he said pulling you towards him. He decided to hold you while you sobbed. He thought of all the times he had cried that hard. Only once and that was after his mother died.

No one was dead and yet you were clinging to him like your life depended on it. Had someone come to the flat? Tried to bother you? Or get information on he and lemon?

He made some soothing noises then remembered what you used to say about your parents. You were the eldest and had a lot of responsibility.

"Are you upset because the kitchen was a mess when I came home?" He asked hesitantly.

"Obviously" You said loudly still crying.

"Right." He said staring at the ceiling wondering what to do next. "So, um. It's not really an expectation to have the kitchen clean or dinner ready."

You stopped crying and looked up at him.

"It's not?" Your breath was ragged and you were shaking.

"Nope."

"Oh." You seemed to calm down a bit before you started again. "But you do so much for me and I have to - I like to -"

"No-No no" He interrupted "My only expectation of you is to not cheat. Spend my money, read as many books as you want, never cook again. Just don't cheat and don't put yourself in danger. Ever." He was happy that you settled down a bit.

"Also while we are being honest, I hate that casserole."

You laughed. "I also hate that casserole. It makes Lemon happy though." Your voice was so tired it made his heart hurt. "Sorry for being so crazy."

"Not crazy, traumatized- most likely. But never crazy." He kissed the top of your head.

"I'm not good with yelling. I either freeze up or I get mean"

"I will keep that in mind, let's do take away." He got your favorite and let you mellow out on the couch. He felt like the right thing to do was to keep you close. Later that night you sort of opened up about always having to look busy at home. How you have a hard time relaxing.

"We could go on vacation?" He said with a smile. "I'm sure I can think of a few ways to make you relax."

You let out a laugh and he kissed your forehead.

________________

Hope that was alright!

[xanqels]

Make Daddy Proud.

joel miller x f!reader

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel have never gotten along, so what happens when you come to his house and piss him off?

word count: 5.1k

warnings: size kink (reader is small and joel is a big boy) dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, cursing, foul language, reader likes to play on joels’ nerves, spanking, hair pulling, fingering, oral (m receiving), choking, alcohol consumption, unsafe p in v (wrap before you tap), pet names, joel is daddy, cum eating (?), tommy ships, minor spit use, brief aftercare, age gap (joel is mid 50s, reader is late 20s), degradation. NO USE OF Y/N!!! ellie is mentioned, sarah is mentioned. slight angst. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me after my writers block. this is based off of an ask i was sent. this has not been edited‼️

————————————————————————-

Joel Miller.

A dangerous man, a killing machine. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you looked at him the wrong way. A man who aged like fine wine, and along with it his attitude towards the world soured. A grumpy man.

You met him one evening, the weather starting to cool, when Tommy called you over and introduced you to his brother. Maria didn’t seem to thrilled about the older Miller brother coming to stay, and it was written on her face. You’d known her long enough to spot the telltale signs of her upset and and disapproval. A small frown line on her dark skin, or the way her eye would twitch slightly.

Tommy, on the other hand, a smile on his lips. His estranged brother was alive and well, after all. Who wouldn’t be happy? Well, Joel, it would seem. A scowl on his weathered face, covered in deepened wrinkles, something any normal young lady may see and scarper away at the sight of, but not you. No, you were intrigued. You wanted to hear more about his troubles, his experience on the outside, but when you opened your mouth to greet him, he merely grumbled at you. Thus, starting a month long war of snide remarks and quick insults, immature snipes at each other just to wind the other up. He’d open up to you on the occasional dark night, after many whiskeys and the occasional hug, but by the next day you’d be back to bickering.

The pair of you couldn’t be in the same room without your quick tongue and his dark scowls ruining whatever good day the other had. Tommy was tired of it. Tired of the bickering, tired of the pettiness. He knew you found Joel attractive, he could see it in your eyes the first day he introduced you to him. The way your eyes swallowed him whole, the way your tongue swiped across your bottom lip as you took him in. You’d never admit it though, you were too proud.

As for Joel, on the other hand? He never showed much emotion, he was a tough cookie. If you’d known him before the world went to shit, you’d know he was a carpenter. A lively soul with a daughter of his own. And now? He was closed off, only talking to Tommy, you, Maria and Ellie, the young girl he ended up hauling around with him, or that’s how he puts it. And on the odd occasion, the bartender who serves him his favourite beverage – Whiskey, neat.

“Shove off, Miller.” You whine, pushing his large frame slightly as you try to take seat. “You’re taking up the whole booth, fatass.” You grumble as he rolls his eyes and moves further into the booth. You sit across from Tommy, Maria beside him as you give them both a warm smile.

You can hear Joel grumble beside you, but you brush him off. You take a sip of your drink, grimacing as the liquid burns it’s way down your throat and into your stomach. You notice Maria has a tall glass infront of her, raising an eyebrow. “Only water tonight, Maria?” You ask, and she nods.

“On patrol tomorrow morning.” She sighs. “So, can’t really be dealing with a hangover. Need to keep my mind clear.” She taps her head with her index finger, and Joel just scoffs.

“That’s some pussy shit.” He says, earning a glare from both you and Maria. Tommy was in his own world, watching Cameron and Pete arm wrestle at the bar, secretly rooting for Cameron. “You gotta learn how to handle your drink better, Maria. Heck, I even take a bit of whiskey with me on the days I am on patrol. Keeps ya warm.” He shrugs as he takes a sip.

“Just because you drink like a fish doesn’t mean the rest of us have to.” He frowns at that, but you continue. “Next time you fear you might get cold on patrol, dress up warmer. Don’t want you freezing to death now, do we cowboy?” You pat his shoulder in a faux friendly manner.

“There’s only so many clothes a man can put on his body, darlin’.” You like that nickname, “darlin’”. Though sarcastic, it warms you, electrifies your loins and leaves you wanting more. “Gotta let the whiskey warm ya from the inside.”

You scoff, silently mocking his words with your face screwed up. You loved and hated the game you’d play. “I’d expect an old man like you to have more sweaters, Miller.” You circle the rim of your glass with your index finger. “I see you flaunting around town in your shirts and flannels. I know they’re not thick enough to keep you warm. Just an excuse for you to drink on the job, I’d say.”

“I’m not an old man.” Joel scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just young and clearly have no knowledge of the world. Not my fault you’re so naive.” He speaks, swirling the liquid around in his glass, avoiding eye contact with you.

You close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, a single syllable falling out of your mouth as you were just about to tear Joel a new one, you weren’t naive, but Tommy cuts you off with a laugh and a cheer. Obviously, Cameron had won.

He turns back to the table, his eyes immediately scanning yours and Joels faces. He frowns. “God, are y’all bickering again?” He asks, eyebrows raised. You feel like a child being scolded. “You two just need to bone it out or something.” He earns a smack to the arm from Maria for that. “I’m just sayin’! These two bicker like there’s no tomorrow. It’s getting past a joke now.” He grumbles, finishing his last dregs of his now room-temperature whiskey.

You sit back in the booth, arms folded and pouting. Joel just rolls his eyes, but chuckles to himself at your scowl. He pats your head in faux sympathy. “Cheer up, Doll. I’m sure Uncle Tommy didn’t mean to scold you.” He coos, and that only annoys you more.

You smack his hand away, annoyance written across your features. “Piss off. You’re not my daddy, Joel.”

“I could be.” He says audible only for you, grinning. “All you have to do is say the magic word, and I’m all yours, darlin’.”

You look in his eyes, and for a moment you think he could be serious. A dark glint behind those deep brown eyes. Something resembling lust, a fire, a yearning for more, but that glint flickers away as his grin grows wider until it turns into him laughing. A hearty laugh, a laugh that could warm your soul.

“God, give in, Joel!” You push him again, but he only laughs harder. It only annoys you more, and you end up having yet another grumble in your seat over it.

“Oh for gods sake, what did I just say?” You hear Tommy shout at the pair of you for bickering again, and that brings a smile to your lips.

It was late when the four of you walked home, with Joel being the first to leave the group, and you being the last. And it wasn’t long after that for you to get changed into an oversized grey shirt and some old fabric shorts. They were old, tatted and had holes in a few areas, but they were comfy and you were thankful to even have clothes to sleep in.

You lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling, the slight buzz of the alcohol in your system making you sleepy, but the thoughts running through your head kept you wide awake. You knew Joel was just being grumpy when he said you were naive. You weren’t naive, you’ve been through the exact same shit he has with the Cordyceps infection that ravaged everything you ever knew and stood for. It upset you, the fact he thought so lowly of you, the fact he thought you didn’t know any better than him.

The upset swirled in your stomach, half of turning into anger at his stupidity. If he’d ever taken the time out of his day to actually have a half-decent conversation with you, aside from those late-night drunken talks he usually forgot, he’d realise you’re not naive at all.

The anger bubbled inside of you, until you find yourself out of your bed and storming down stairs, throwing on the first coat and pair of shoes you could find. You set out onto the dimly lit streets of Jackson. You needn’t worry about locking your door, everyone knew the rules and the consequences and wouldn’t dare set foot wrong.

You found your feet dragging you towards Joel’s house, your mind had no control over your body at this point. You were determined to prove him wrong, to show him you weren’t naive. And that’s how you ended up banging on his front door, impatiently tapping your foot against his porch.

You were actually surprised when he opened the door, his hair all scuffed up, eyes squinted slightly as he rubbed sleep out of them.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice gruff and deep with sleep. You’d obviously just woken him up. He yawns, leaning against his door frame in nothing but a pair of plaid pyjama pants. God, he was so attractive, if you weren’t mad at him you’d jump his bones right now. His tanned skin, marked with scars and evidence of his battles. It stirred something in you, he stirred something in you.

He clears his throat, and you snap out of it, eyes darting up to his. He has his eyebrows raised, dark iris’ boring into yours. You shuffle slightly, swallowing thickly. “You really upset me.”

He groans, rolling his eyes. “Chin up, Darlin’.” He sighs, running a hand through his ragged hair. “Can’t we talk about this tomorrow? I gotta get my sleep.” He yawns, moving back into his house slightly as he goes to shut his door, but you place your foot in the gap and push it open.

You step inside, shaking your head. “No, Joel. I can’t sleep. You said I was naive, what do you mean by that?” You ask, and he just grumbles to himself as he shuts the door behind you. Obviously, you weren’t leaving anytime soon, and you’d just made your mind up then and there, and Joel had no say in the matter.

He laughs, thinking you’re messing with him. His laugh falters as he sees the look on your face, pitiful and innocent. His smile turns into a frown, furrowing his brows. “You’re not serious are ya?” He chuckles nervously. “C’mon darlin’, I was only messing with you.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t cool. I’ve been through just as much shit as you have, Joel. You can’t just take my experience for granted.” You speak, folding your arms across your chest.

“You’ve had it easier than the rest of us.” He looks away from you, avoiding your gaze. “You haven’t dealt or even seen half of the shit I’ve gone through. The things I’ve had to do just to survive, the looks on peoples faces I’ve had to endure.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Joel.” You take a step forward, his eyes darting back down to yours again. “Just because you lost Sarah doesn’t mean you can disregard everyone else’s experience. We’ve all been through the same shit.” You regret saying that immediately.

That statement, the mention of Sarah. It’s like it clicks a switch in his mind, his face warps into something you’ve ever seen before, pure disdain. Pure anger. You can see his nostrils flare as he takes in deep breaths, and his chest rising and then falling. You’re both somewhat afraid and oddly aroused.

“How fucking dare you?” His voice stone cold, jaw stiff as he steps towards you, backing you against the front door, pointing at you as his tall, stoic frames completely engulfs yours. You wince, turning your face away from his as his hot breath hits your cheek. “You do not mention her name in my house. You do not mention her name at all, you don’t deserve to even speak her name.”

Tears prick your eyes, you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve hit a new low, you’ve stooped to a new level, all because he called you naive. You brought up the ghosts of his past, the things he has nightmares about that leave particularly dark circles under his eyes, the thing he often drinks to forget. No wonder he’s angry at you.

“Joel.. I’m sorry.” You whimper, giving him big doe eyes. He just tuts and shakes his head.

“Stupid. Stupid naive girl. You need to be taught some manners.” He’s suddenly calm, or atleast calmer, and you don’t get to question it, his hand wraps around your waist and he’s dragging you into the main room, switching the lamp on. He sits himself down on the two-seater leather couch, and you look at him confused.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He speaks, and you’re even more confused. You’re stood inbetween his legs, his hand caressing your face. Have you just stepped into another dimension? His mood swings are confusing, but he’s so fucking handsome. “Why don’t you apologise to Daddy properly, hm?”

And there it is, the burning hot feeling in your stomach, the desperation to be touched, manhandled, anything. He manoeuvres you into his lap, your crotch ontop of his, hands gripping your waist. He glides your coat off your shoulders, throwing it onto the other side of the room. You shiver, goosebumps raising on your arms from your loss of warmth, your heart beating a million miles an hour as he leans in.

“You gon’ be good for Daddy?” He asks, his texan drawl coming out in full force as he leans towards your neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it. You whimper at the feel of his warm, plump lips against your cold skin, unable to answer him until he’s nipping and sucking at your jawline.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You sigh out, and he seems not to mind your answer, rather he seems intrigued by it. He pulls away, eyebrows raised.

“That so?” He tilts his head, his right hand coming up to grip your face, making you look at him. “I’m not afraid to show you who’s boss, Doll.” His fingers buried in your cheeks, his eyes full of intensity. You think you broke him. “You crossed a line.”

“I know I did, and I’m sorry.” You choke out, tears still pricking at your lash line. “Please.” You beg, you don’t even know what you’re begging for. He releases your face from his grip, smiling to himself. His hands grip your waist again, and he leans back, eyes scanning your fragile form. He hums.

“You���re a sight to see.” He growls softly, gently grinding you against his crotch. You whine at the feeling as he repeats it once, twice until you feel his cock harden against you. You don’t even have to see it to know it’s big.

He leans forward, lips connecting to your neck again as he guides you, but he soon finds he doesn’t have to as you take control yourself. You gently grind against his clothed cock, whining at the friction as your sleep shorts catch on your clit. He leaves a sloppy trail of open-mouthed, wet kisses against your neck, and you can’t believe this is happening.

He pulls away, lips glistening with saliva in the light. You don’t stop until his hands hold you in place. You look up at him, confused. His pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust and desire, hunger for you.

“Think you’re ready to apologise?” He strokes your hair and you nod. “Don’t take long to break ya.” You roll your eyes at that, unable to muster up a witty comeback, and he pulls your hair. You moan at the feeling, the pleasure going straight to your weeping pussy. “None of that now, Darlin’. Alright?” You hum, and he gently pushes you off his lap.

He stands up, towering over you as he points to the floor, and you kneel down. He nods, happy with your submission. He bends down slightly, cupping your face in his hand. “You know what I want?” You nod, tongue poking out to wet your lips. He stands back up. “Good.”

Your hands are quick, scrambling to grip his waistband, as you pull down his plaid bottoms slowly, not knowing what to expect.

But then you see it. It’s angry red tip, weeping with precum and you just know he hasn’t had something like this in a while. His own hand? Maybe, but not another woman. It’s girthy, and has a considerable length to it, maybe seven inches? If not slightly more. It’s definitely going to be a stretch, a burn, something for you to gag and choke all over, but you’re almost certain he’ll hit those right spots with it. The spot you struggle to reach with just your fingers.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice pulls you out of your trance, and you wonder how long you’ve been looking at it, drooling over it. “You gon’ open your mouth for me, Doll?” He holds his cock at the base, waiting patiently for you to open your mouth.

You shuffle slightly, placing your own hand around his cock as you open your mouth and lean forward. His precum spreads across your tongue, salty and slightly bitter, but you don’t mind, rather quite the opposite. You hear him groan as your warm mouth and wet tongue take him, moving your head down slowly, only getting to about halfway before your gag reflex starts to kick in. You stop, pulling back and repeating the same motions, only managing to fit about half of his cock in.

At some point, he grows slightly impatient, taking his hands and placing them on the back of your head. He holds you in place as he thrusts forward, the entire length of his cock gliding down your throat. You gag at the intrusion, eyes filling with tears again, but you focus on him. The way your nose is pressed against his lower abdomen, the way he smells. You want to make a mental image of this, remember and cherish it forever lest you forget it.

He gently pulls you back, repeating the action multiple times. Tears roll down your cheeks as he fucks your face, head feeling slightly dizzy as he depraves you of oxygen. He moans, and you can feel his cock throbbing in your throat. He tears your head away from him, groaning softly as he wraps his hand around the head of his cock, staving off his orgasm.

You gasp for air, coughing and spluttering slightly as you come back down, wiping your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand.

You okay?” You hear him speak, sounding slightly out of breath. You nod, wiping the drool from your chin. Your pussy was aching by this point, you just wanted to be filled by him, to be fucked relentlessly til you didn’t know your own name.

He helps you up, ever the gentleman he is, and sits himself back down on his couch. He removes your sleep shorts, and then your shirt, manoeuvring you back into his bare lap. His eyes scan your body, now naked and in all its glory. He groans at the sight, hand coming up to pinch your hard nipple.

You sigh at the feeling. “How many fingers can you take?” He asks.

“Two.”

“Two what?”

“Two, Daddy.” Your cheeks flush. He holds his hand up next to yours, and your fingers are nothing compared to his.

Yours a thin, nimble and fragile. His are calloused, thick and long. “Only two?” He asks, incredulous and you nod.

He furrows his brows, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips, swiping his tongue along it. He reaches down, placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles. You moan, hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

“Just makin’ sure you’re wet enough.” He knew he didn’t need to, he could see you practically dripping on his lap, but he just wanted to hear you moan.

He pulls his hand away and you frown, until you see him sucking on his index and ring finger. He pulls his fingers out, examining them in the light before giving you a look, and you nod. He was asking if you were ready.

He brings his hand down, gently pushing his two fingers into your tight pussy. You cry out at the dull burn, but underneath the burn you could feel the heat, the need growing for him. He lets out an audible sigh, he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers, stretching you open for him.

“Oh, Joel.. Fuck.” You moan, squealing when you feel his calloused hand smack against your arse. You whine, frowning at him. He just shakes his head.

“Wrong. Try again.” He stills his fingers inside of you, they’re just nudging that sweet spot you’d been unable to find yourself.

You groan as you wriggle in his arms, trying to get him to move. “Fuck, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You beg. “Please, Daddy.”

It seems to appease him, as he’s soon fucking you wide open with his fingers again. He makes a ‘coke here’ motion with his fingers, and you’re sure you can see stars.

Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as he hits that spot, throwing your head back. He takes this to his advantage, leaning in and sloppily leaving kisses along your collar bone.

“Fuck, Daddy I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. I haven’t said you can yet.” He grumbles against your skin.

You try to hold off, but the pleasure is so overwhelming. He’s hitting that spot again and again, purposely rubbing up against it even though you’re struggling. You can’t hold on.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” You cry out, and to your mercy he allows you to ride through it.

It’s quite possibly the best orgasm you’ve had. Your jaw goes slack, and you feel as though you’re having an outer body experience. You can feel it in every crevice of your body, on every inch of your skin. It’s incredible, you never knew you could feel this good.

You slump forward, resting on Joel’s shoulder as you come back to planet earth. You’re still panting by the time you come to.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He tuts, and the sound sends chills down your spine. “Didn’t I tell you not to cum?” He slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, and you jolt, the movement sending aftershocks through your body.

You sit up, strands of hair sticking to your forehead as you meet Joel’s eyes. They’re angry, but still full of lust. You disobeyed him, and now you’re gonna have to suffer the consequences.

He lifts his fingers up, examining them in the light again. “Look at that.” He grins, your slick gleaming in the light. You’re embarrassed, you made that mess. You’re surprised when he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean. He shuts his eyes momentarily, giving you an exaggerated moan. “You’re delicious, Doll.” He says as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. You truthfully don’t know what to say, but it seems as though Joel didn’t plan on you speaking anyway. He practically pushes you off him onto the seat next to him. He stands up, rolling you over on your stomach.

You can’t see what he’s doing, until his hand connects with your ass. You yelp out, fingernails digging into the leather.

“This is for cumming without my permission.” He speaks. “Dirty little slut. Can’t even wait for her daddy’s orders, hm?” He asks, spanking your ass again and again until you’re certain he’s left a bright red handprint.

Every slap he gives sends waves of pleasure to your pussy, and you can’t believe you’re enjoying this.

His hand reaches up, wrapping itself in your hair as he pulls your face up, he leans towards you. “You gon’ listen to me?”

You nod. “Yes Daddy, I promise.”

He wipes the tears running down your cheeks, and honestly you hadn’t even noticed you’d been crying. He plants a kiss to the side of your temple, a simple gesture that shocks you.

He flips you over again and climbs in-between your legs. You watch as he places your legs on either side of his waist, and begins to gently stroke his cock.

You can feel yourself desperate for him again, even the simplest of his movements turn you on.

He holds his hand out infront of your face. “Spit.” He commands, and you do. He wipes the spit on his cock, even though he doesn’t need to as you’re wet enough, but he enjoys it when you do what you’re told.

You gasp as you feel the smooth head of his cock against your tight hole, biting your lip as he pushes into you.

The stretch hurts more than his fingers, but it was expected. He’s thick. You scrunch your face up as he pushes into you, and you hear him sigh as he bottoms out. You open your eyes, lifting your head up slightly to see where you’d connected at the seams. A holy sight, a gorgeous sight. You’d take a picture and frame it on your wall if you had a camera.

He reaches up and caresses your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. You open your lips slightly and he slides his thumb into your mouth.

You suck on his thumb as he starts to pull out, slowly, before slamming back into you. Your tits jiggle at the force, and he seems to find that somewhat amusing.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He coos. “Gonna make you my little cum slut.” You moan around his thumb.

His pace is slow at first, almost as though he doesn’t want to break you, but he soon picks up the pace. Your mouth falls open as sweet melodies fall from your lips, and he trails his hand down to your neck. He wraps his hand around, gently squeezing your neck as he fucks you, hard.

You feel as though you’re on cloud nine, your mind is spinning as he fucks into you. You don’t even care that you’re sweating so much you’re practically glued to the leather, or the fact he’s nearly depriving you of oxygen for the second time tonight. You’re just focused on the way his cock feels, the way it hits that sweet spot and nudges your cervix. A pleasurably painful sensation.

He removes his hand from your throat, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks on it, gently pulling it with his lips before letting it go. He plants opened mouth kisses along your salty skin, sucking and nibbling at the soft spots on your neck. There’ll be marks tomorrow.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans. “I’m gon’ ruin you for any other man. You’re mine, you hear?” He growls against your skin.

You cry out, arching your back slightly as you feel the leather rip from your skin. “I’m yours, Daddy.” If someone told you that you’d be in this situation five hours ago, you would’ve laughed in their face.

You can feel it starting to grow again. The fire in the pit of your stomach, the wave that grows ever larger before it crashes.

He can tell you’re close again, the way your pussy strangles his cock. It makes him desperate to feel you cum around his cock. “You gon’ cum sweet girl?” He sounds breathless, almost as though he’s on edge himself. His thrusts are growing slightly more erratic.

You can’t reply, you just nod. He brings his free hand down to rub your clit, rubbing circles into it.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You manage to make out, face scrunching up as the intensity of it builds.

“Cum for me, Doll. Strangle my cock.” And you do just that.

Your pussy pulsates around his cock, legs shaking as you reach your high. Your mouth falls open in yet another silent scream, and he fucks you through it. Your head feels so light, you feel as though you’ve reached new highs, reached new extremes.

His hips are stuttering by the time you come to, and you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing and by the noises he’s making that he’s close.

He doesn’t give you much warning apart from those tell-tale signs, as he thrusts harshly into you a few more times before he’s moaning your name. You can feel him throbbing inside of you as he paints your walls in ropes of his thick, warm cum. You feel stuffed.

You both lay there in silence for a while, him ontop of you whilst his cock softens.

He eventually clears his throat, slowly sitting up and running a hand through his hair. You make eye contact, and all that anger and must that was previously in his eyes has gone and been replaced by adoration. He caressed your face again. He slowly gets up, and you hiss as his cock slips out of you.

He reaches down, fingers spreading your pussy as he looks at it, full of his cum. He grins, scooping up a bit that had run out and pushing it back in. You can hear the squelch of your juices, a vulgar sound.

He slowly gets up, and you can hear his bones crack as he stretches. He pulls his bottoms back up, turning around and looking at you from above. You were a sight. Eyes slightly red from the tears, sweaty skin and a pussy leaking with cum. He stays there for a second, making a mental memory of how you look.

“One moment.” He walks out of the room, and you can hear the tap in the kitchen turn on and off.

He returns moments later with a damp cloth and a cup of water. He cleans you up as you drink the water, giving you a warm, genuine smile. A rare sight.

As he’s cleaning you, he places a hand on your smooth stomach, caressing it softly.

“You’d look so good swollen with my babies.” He murmurs.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

————————————————————————-

tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @planet-marz1

a/n: please note this has not been edited and is my second ever fic. will happily accept any constructive criticism :) also i love receiving asks so feel free to say whatever

[twistedwonderworm]

Can i request AFAB smut monsterfucking with azul ashengrotto in his mer form👀

Sorry this took so long and sorry if it's bad. I got swamped by requests and despite that they're still open. So one of my friends helped by writing this for me with me being the one to edit it. So credit to her.

Mating Season (TWST NSFW)

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x AFAB!reader

Warnings: rough sex, mer sex, afab terms, reader wearing makeup (forgot to edit that out, I'm sorry)

Word count: 1,138

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Y/n was heading to the Octavinelle dorm, to visit their boyfriend Azul. The couple were planning on spending the summer together. When they got there, they looked around and saw both Jade and Floyd standing almost in front of Azul’s office.

“Hey guys, why are you standing in front of the door? Is Azul busy?” they asked the two. Both Jade and Floyd looked at each other before they looked at Y/N.

“Well…Azul is having a week to himself as he has been really stressed.” Floyd said to them to try and get them away, but Y/N was determined to see their boyfriend. They eventually got the two to move so they could get inside. Jade tried to warn them but the human wouldn't listen.

As Y/N opened the door, they noticed that it was dark, and they closed the door. When they did so, they could see a blue light but what got their gears going were the soft moans they heard. It sounded like Azul though his voice sounded a little deeper than normal. Y/N walked forward to find their boyfriend. When they did find him, their face heated up as they flushed upon seeing what Azul was doing.

Azul was laying in a water filled tub that the twins probably brought in for him, jerking off almost desperately… and in his Mer form no less. They had to admit that he was actually quite beautiful in his mer form, sleek and toned. The coloring also quite gorgeous. But they quickly shook their head to get those thoughts out of their head. Unfortunately, it was futile. They could only think about him being inside them. About him making them see stars. However, Azul had noticed that they had walked in, and he stopped his hand. He looked back at their red, flushed face. He couldn’t help but smirk and called them forward with a finger. His aura was different when he didn’t have his glasses on, and his hair was a slight mess.

“Ah angelfish. I see Jade and Floyd let you inside. Well, since you’re here… come on and help me out, will you?” He purred seductively to them.

Y/N could only gulp softly, What have I gotten myself into? they thought before walking over and slowly going to their knees. They took his cock into their hand. It was a lot bigger than they anticipated and was quite odd, as they had assumed it was one of his arms. Nevertheless they aimed to please.

Soon enough Y/N started to suck on his cock, using their tongue to play with the tip. They soon took in more as they felt Azul’s hand grip their hair, which caused them to deep-throat him. They gagged in surprise from the sudden action, almost choking. Normally, Azul would be flushing at their actions, but would stay soft and tender. Instead he was rough and desperate to cum. It didn't take long before Y/N felt him twitch in their mouth, and they were pulled off.

He scooped them up and moved them to his desk on their back. While they were still being surprised at how easily he was able to do so, there octomer divested them of their bottoms and underwear. His extra arms wrapped around their thighs, keeping them open as he leaned down and attacked their clit with hard sucks and licks. Because of Azul’s heat he was unable to stop even if they begged him to. Though he knew he would at least try even though they tasted so divine. Once he felt they were wet enough, he pulled away with a pop and smirked.

“Oh, don’t worry, angelfish. I’ll give you what you want…if you beg for it.” He said with a chuckle. Y/N could only blink as they whined trying to move their hips but the tight grip of his tentacles were tight. They wanted him to continue but they didn’t want to beg either. Soon they let out a small yelp as one of his free tentacles smacked their clit. They looked at him just to see that damn smug look. The one they both loved and hated. They bit their lower lip and whined again.

“P-please Azul, please taste your prey.” They begged and boy, did Azul deliver. As he ate them out, he could hear them cry out his name over and over again, getting higher each time. Before long they soon could feel the knot tighten then snap as they climaxed on his tongue.

Azul soon pulled away, licking his lips as he moved up and aligned himself before he thrusted all the way in. This wasn’t the first time they had sex, but it was the first time they did it during his heat and in his Mer form. But even if he was in a lust driven haze, he still allowed them to adjust to his size. His tentacle was slick and smooth inside of them, twitching inside them every now and then. Once they gave the okay, they would soon find out why the eels tried to keep them away.

They were moaning loudly as Azul pounded into them, and he could only laugh at their state. Their hair messed up and over their eyes. The lipstick they wore was smeared and the eyeliner streaked down their cheeks from the tears that fell while Azul was giving them great oral.

What they didn’t know was that Azul was on the last day of his heat as it was the strongest. They soon looked at Azul with pleading eyes as their climax was taken away twice now. They could feel that he was close, and so were they. Soon enough azul’s tentacles moved to action as two touched their chest and nipples while another rubbed their clit at a quick pace that sent them spiraling into a hard orgasm. They screamed out his name and almost passed out from pleasure as their body tensed up. When Azul felt them orgasm, clenching around him and trying to milk his cock, he soon followed. He slammed in one more time before he orgasmed himself, pumping them full of cum. He panted and held them close as he shifted back into his human form. When he was back in human form, he sat down in his desk chair, his legs being too wobbly to stand. Soon Azul chuckled and helped them get cleaned up and smiled.

“Are you alright dear? Did I go too rough on you?” he asked them with a knowing smile. All they could do was nod and smile softly. Even if he was rough they knew the next time he had his mating season they were definitely helping him. Afterall, Mer people couldn’t get humans pregnant…or could they?

[dalchiid]

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,812

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter Warnings: Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Mentions of masturbation

Next

The rain ran cold down your back as you made your way across the garden. From a drizzle to a downpour in a matter of minutes, you found yourself soaked to the bone. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth until you made it to the patio where you took cover under the wide umbrella placed over a round glass table. You took care to not wet any of the chairs around you lest you make a bigger mess than needed to be made.

You huffed, looking down at your figure before spreading your arms out and down against your sides. Of course this had to happen as you took your time to spruce the garden. Luckily you'd gotten the majority of it done before you had no choice than to run for cover. Now here you stood like a drowned rat knowing full well you'd need to dry off before continuing your chores for the day. You only hoped you'd be allowed a warm bath beforehand but did you really have enough time? The Masters of the estate you worked for were expecting guests later tonight. It wasn't like the place was at a mass disarray. There wasn't much to do outside of the usual but it never stopped the worry amongst the people. The worry and need to make sure everything was just right.

"Y/N!"

You turned at the sound of your name. Your brows drew together and you had to fight the small pout that wanted to form onto your lips at the sight before you. The disappointed look being sent your way by none other than the head of servants of the estate. You gathered your spirits before running towards the open doors, huffing at the cold that made its way down your back once more.

"Didn't know it would rain." It was almost posed as a question but it was clear by his tone that it wasn't.

"I'm sorry Ji-Woon." You stepped onto the folded towel he graciously placed onto the floor before making work of your shoes. "I normally check the weather beforehand but I didn't have time this morning."

"You overslept." Another statement. The elder man's brow rose as he handed you another towel to dry parts of yourself with. You would have apologized further but what was the point? The damage was done and now you had to face whatever he would throw your way.

He shook his head. "You're lucky I took the liberty of taking on some of your work."

You frowned in question. Before you could open your mouth to ask him why he sighed in an almost dramatic manner. "I knew you would be running late and wanted less headaches to deal with by the time the guests arrived. That and unfortunately, I have a soft spot for you."

Your features softened. A smile dancing at the edges of your lips.

Ji-Woon rolled his eyes then gestured with his chin towards the halls. "Go get washed up. You look pathetic." At this you laughed. Scurrying off into the direction of your room.

You ran on the balls of your feet, your shoes in one hand and your soaked socks in the other. You hurriedly made your way towards the west wing of the manor garnering a collection of expressions as those who worked or wandered the halls watched you. You took little to no notice of them as all you could think about at that point was a nice warm shower. The air conditioning felt like it was at an all time high as you felt another sort of chill settle into your bones. Small prints were left behind from your wet feet on the long blue rug that made its way down the halls of the manor. If anyone were to follow them they'd find your crazed self dashing through for a warm, warm shower.

You threw your door open, quickly settling your shoes into a corner of your room and made haste to gather your things before making way to one of the shared bathrooms further down the halls. Unlike the right wing, the bathrooms were shared amongst the servants who resided in the manor. Not many of you did. The others resided in a campus of sorts further out back passed the gardens you'd been in not long before. Did it matter? Who resided where? Servants were servants but there truly was a difference between you all.

You stripped out of your clothing, tossing them onto the floor where they landed with a sharp slap from the weight they carried. You turned the tap on in one of the stalls before moving on to stare into your reflection. Your face twisted into one of horror then settled into disgust at your appearance. Your hair was plastered in some parts and frizzy in others. There were some pieces of grass that somehow found its way over your collarbone and neck while your mascara ran down your cheeks. "So much for waterproof," you mumbled. You took to wiping the smears of makeup off before picking off the blades of grass that stuck to you. You picked a particular piece off at the juncture of your neck before gently running your fingers over the area. An unreadable expression having taken over your features.

A set of teeth marks scarred over your flesh.

Compared to the others that lined your arms, this one in particular was a shade darker than the rest of you. The reason behind it being a previous guest who took a liking to you. Overstepping boundaries that had been placed by the Masters of the estate.

Yes. There was a difference between servants who resided in the manor and those outside. Those of you who resided in these walls were cattle. As grotesque as it must sound, it was the truth.

You turned away to check the temperature of the water, altering it slightly before stepping beneath the shower.

The Masters, the guests... they were vampires. You? A measly human. At least, you oftentimes felt like one. Measly, weak, pathetic. You never did before but after the bite that left you scarred in more ways than one; how could you think otherwise? Now it wasn't as if humans as a whole were enslaved. It wasn't a matter of ones race but what position of power you were born into. You? Who were you really? Well, you were you. Not a nobody but not one of a higher social standing either. You were someone. A part of a community of people. A human amongst monsters. A slave - no. A servant to a society of beings. Did you ever question it? Of course but you couldn't afford to let the thoughts consume you. Not when you couldn't take the time to live for yourself alone because you didn't. You were never meant to live for yourself. It was never in your cards to be anything else otherwise.

You don't know much about your past. Not because you hadn't cared to know but because there was nothing to learn. No one knew and the Masters of the house never spoke on it. Was it right? Well, was anything in this world right?

You hummed to yourself a random tune as you scrubbed away at your body. Feeling significantly better after a good wash, you turned the water off before drying yourself off.

You lived for your Masters. Let them draw blood from you. Sustained their life while they maintained your livelihood. You were theirs and only theirs. Too bad the Lady of another estate took too much of a liking to your scent and crossed the line that had been placed not for your benefit but the Masters.

As it seems though, she never returned to the estate. Any business held with her were done within her walls and hers alone. They wouldn't allow something like this to ever happen again for you were theirs. The Masters - the triplets of this estate: Baek Hyung-Won, Hyun-Woo, and Hyun-Sik. Not unkind but not entirely benevolent either. They were who they were and you were who you were.

You took your time in preparing yourself knowing now that you didn't have much to do on your end thanks to Ji-Woon. The clothes you adorned yourself with a mirror image of what you wore prior: an all black ensemble made up of form-fitting slacks and shirt with a double-breasted cropped blazer on top. The buttons embellished with the family insignia. All servants of the estate wore these and they varied from state to state. You made do with your hair and makeup - making absolute sure to wear mascara of the waterproof kind and not whatever the hell of an excuse of product you used before. First and last time, you thought with a childish pout.

Your mind raced through your assigned chores for the day taking into account what you already did and what your elder more than likely left you with. Knowing Ji-Woon, he'd taken on tasks that would more than likely keep you in the sights of others. Preferring you work "behind the scenes" if one would say. After the incident that left you scarred he'd taken it upon himself to feel responsible though you told him otherwise. After all, according to him, you would have never been in her line of sight if it weren't for the fact that he assigned you to take on tasks that had you front and center rather than your usual menial tasks such as kitchen duty or gardening. You were sure the Lady and you would have crossed paths at some point but no matter what you said, he took full responsibility.

You sighed, squaring your shoulders and rolling your neck before gathering your things to head off.

Ji-Woon was a special one. Though referred to as your elder he was far from being elderly. The term simply used as a sign of respect in these times. He wasn't one to coddle and as the head of servants he took his job seriously. Born into a family that lived to serve the Masters through and through. Their obligation was to serve and only serve. Unlike some servants who can come and go, he could not. He was bound to the Masters and literally so. Bound by blood, a pact his ancestors made centuries ago with the Baeks. If he were to try and leave it would kill him. When you came to know this through the gossip of others, you remember being left speechless. Your thought process coming to a full stop and your mouth left ajar. You couldn't imagine living such a life. Though you came to be a part of this family, you weren't 'bound' like him. You could leave if you wished to. The only reason why you didn't being that you felt like there was no reason to. You wouldn't even know where to begin as this is the life you've always known but with Ji-Woon and his line of blood this was all they could ever know. There had to be one of hell of a reason for why such a pact would be made. Whatever it was, you never bothered to ask. Then again, would your elder willingly answer?

As you reached the door to your quarters, a call of your name stopped you short. You turned to face your colleague, Asher, who looked like he'd been making a run for his life.

"You okay?"

He held a hand up in pause, the other one placed onto his hip he had cocked out as he tried to regain his breath. Clearing his throat, the blond spoke quickly. "It's Master Hyun-Woo."

Your heart skipped a beat and you tried to settle it with even breaths. "Is he..." You drew your sentence out. A part of you unsure of the reason behind this but another part of you knowing where this might be going.

"He demanded either I or Areum find you. Said he wanted a word with you."

Only a word? You hummed in thought but knew there was no time to question it. Out of all the brothers, he was the most impatient and the time for you to get your ass in gear to see him started as soon as he uttered your name.

"Alright. Let me drop this off and I'll go see him."

Asher simply nodded before making a wide half circle around you to go in the direction of the bathrooms. To others, his actions would have been seen as odd but you and many others of the household understood the meaning of it.

The steps you took were long, power walking your way towards the only place you knew the master to be. You looked at your watch confirming the time. It was past 2 PM meaning he'd just started his day. Quickly pulling up to his door, you tamed your breathing and heartbeat. You needed to be calm because if there was one thing about Hyun-Woo well... He had a thing for stuff like this.

Before you could bring your fist to the door you heard him welcome you from inside. One more deep and slow breath. Then you entered his room.

He sat before his vanity staring at his reflection in boredom. He didn't look at you at first, even as you bowed in greeting. It was as you approached that you realized he hadn't even been staring at his reflection but through it.

"Master Hyun-Woo." You ran your eyes over his form. From his shaggy mullet to the little mole just beneath his left eye. The fullness of his lips and the lack of appearance of his dimples that currently hide beneath his frown.

His shoulders slumped as he gave a deep sigh.

"My pretty little Y/N." He turned to face you with a small frown before looking through the mirror again "Tis a dreary day."

You hummed.

He perched his chin onto the palm of his hand and sighed once more. You frowned in concern. This was unlike him.

"Is everything alright, Master?" He caught sight in the mirror of the way your fingers nervously played with one another. What a cute little thing you were.

"Today feels... off. We have guests coming in a few hours." His tone and change of topic came and went quick from down to almost delighted. It gave you whiplash. His smile fell once again into a now unreadable expression. "I'm tired."

You bit the inside of your cheek before shoving your hands into your pockets. You wanted to ask him something but you weren't sure if you should? A part of you concerned at how he might interpret it.

"What's on your mind, dove?"

Your brows shot up slightly at how he'd been able to sense the question that sat so precariously on the tip of your tongue. Then again, you weren't exactly being subtle.

"Have you fed, Master?"

At this, a wicked smiled graced his lips. "You think I'm at a frenzy?"

"N-no, Master! I just-"

He chuckled before fully turning in his seat to face you. "Come." He patted his thigh. It was an invitation to sit down. You hesitated at first unsure of what might happen. A series of thoughts ran through your head before you took the offer and sat down on his lap.

Hyun-Woo's arms came to curl around your waist as he tucked his head into your neck. You could feel the way he breathed you in and it sent goosebumps down your body.

"I'm not due to feed until a few days."

You wiggled in his hold at the feel of his lips ghosting across your neck as he spoke.

"I know." You knew because it was you he would be due to feed from. "What I did mean was the other one." Your voice trailed off.

He hummed. "You mean if I've gotten my dick wet?"

"Master," you groaned.

Hyun-Woo laughed at your perceived annoyance. "But isn't that what you meant?"

It was but at the same time it wasn't. "You know what I mean."

He could practically feel you rolling your eyes. Only you. He would only ever allow you to act this way with him.

"Why? Are you offering?"

Your answer came quick and curt. "No."

"Aww. I was hoping you'd let me finally have a taste of you."

"You have tasted me."

You yelped as he pinched your side. "I mean in other ways you brat."

You knew exactly what he meant. You just hoped he'd stop trying already.

What were you and Hyun-Woo? He was your Master and you his cow. He'd taken a liking to you. To your looks and smell. He'd been perusing through the garden you so loved to attend to when he caught a delicious smell. He followed it knowing full well what it was but from who he didn't know. He'd come around to find you on your knees cursing to yourself. It was most amusing to see you berating yourself the way you were but that smell. Your blood. You pricked your finger on the rose bush you'd been attending. When you realized you were being watched and by whom you froze in panic. Neither of you two moved as he stared between you and your finger. You began internally berating yourself for a whole new reason now as the middle child of Baek approached you. He knelt by you before taking your hand and placing your finger into his mouth. You can recall the way your Master's eyes drew to a close before feeling the way he released a shaky exhale through his nose.

Prior to that, the youngest of the triplets fed from you most of the time. Only twice had the eldest done so and now Hyun-Woo. He took a liking to you but it never strayed from anything other than the usual feeds needed for survival. He oftentimes took from others as well. You weren't his sole provider. You weren't any of the brother's sole provider until things began to take a much more awkward and unfortunate turn.

You could recall how you felt that day. An insatiable hunger took over your body. In short, you were horny. You could barely keep it together in the showers, running the shower head over your aching clit. You subsequently stopped though when others entered to bathe as well. At that point you quickly washed up and went straight for your room looking for some privacy. In doing so though, you fucked up. You knew Hyun-Woo was due for a feeding that day but it wouldn't be until later into the night. Until that time came you decided to take care of yourself.

You remember it all as if it were yesterday. You'd been so deep inside. As deep inside yourself your fingers could go. Curling over and over into your sweet spot. You blushed at the squelching sounds that came from between your legs but all it did was encourage the fingers from your other hand to furiously rub at your clit. You were so close. So close to cumming until your door flew open. The doorknob breaking as Hyun-Woo tore through it, lock and all. His eyes bled red with his nostrils flaring at the scent of your musk. You screamed in terror and it was enough for him to snap out of his mindset. Enough for him to look at least a little embarrassed before he ran off towards his room.

You triggered his frenzy.

A frenzy for a vampire was everything and all that reminded you how much more beast they are than man. An insatiable need for blood. An insatiable need to fuck. To stake ones claim and none other. Emotions running high and low bordering on mania. It was a sight that could bring fear and even death if left unattended. He's never frenzied with you, but now... That's all he's ever wanted.

He's tried to convince you during your sessions to let him touch you or for you to at least touch him. He'd be close to a frenzy before you'd leave him high and dry. To the point where you started avoiding him which left him feeling both hurt and annoyed. He wanted you but you didn't want him. It hurt his ego but to risk not having your blood ever again, you both came to an agreement. He'd only ever frenzy feed from others. Never you. You hesitantly agreed but he seemed true to his word. He didn't need you to know it was your name he was moaning in the other servant's ear when he came but this was a fine deal... for the most part. It didn't stop him from teasing you nor from him trying to convince you otherwise much to your disappointment.

It's been a few months now since the initial incident. You wondered how long would he willingly continue this deal before he used his position as your Master to demand for more. He'd already demanded his brothers to stop feeding from you. How long before he reminds you of your place?

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You raised your brow in his direction to realize he'd been staring at you. How long had he been like this? You subconsciously bit your lip to which his eyes followed. There was a hunger that lurked deep within them. You held your breath expecting to see the colors begin to change. To see the red bleed into the whites of his eyes. To watch as the brown of his irises turn a shocking blue. It never came but you know they lingered deep within. Waiting.

Hyun-Woo's hand came to caress your face. Everything about this felt so intimate. So wrong. His fingers danced across your lips, pulling the bottom one out from between your teeth. He watched as the blood that had been constricted beneath the petal that made your lip run freely beneath the surface. You watched him as he gripped either side of your face in his one large hand and squeezed. Forcing your lips to pucker in an almost comedic way, but neither of you laughed.

He hummed to a thought unheard to you before he released you all together.

"Three of 7 members from the Bangtan estate will be in attendance tonight." Your eyes fluttered as you caught on to his words. "Don't go anywhere near them. Understood?"

"Yes, Master."

He looked away before moving his legs beneath you as a sign for you to move. You stood up, quickly bowing before making your way out of his room. Just before you could close his doors you could hear him mumble. "What a dreary day it is."

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

The hour had struck and so the time had come. You looked from the bottom corner of your laptop to the view outside of your window. You couldn't see them as your view was from the side of the housing to out back into the garden. If you squint, you could see the corner to the one building that housed the rest of the servants. Servants who surely would be helping to greet the guests of the night. Guests you were forbade to meet. Ji-Woon said it was for your safety but you knew better. If there was one thing triggering his frenzy did, it made a side of Hyun-Woo come out that you weren't too fond of. While Ji-Woon claimed it was to avoid an incident like with the Lady of the estate Lumière to occur again, you and your other Masters knew otherwise.

The second child of Baek manor became possessive over you. Everyone knew this. It's why many of your own colleagues steer clear of you. Of why people like Asher take major steps to avoid being within close proximity to you so as to not accidentally place their scents onto an object of their Master's desires. Desires you knew revolved around sex and nothing more. You're reminded that no matter how easy the two of you can communicate compared to the rest, you will always be his servant. His property in his eyes.

You scratched the back of your head, slouching in your seat. You changed out of your uniform into your sleepwear. There wasn't much for you to do at this point. You originally were supposed to help with the meals but after you took your leave, Hyun-Woo had made it clear to Ji-Woon and co that you were to stay in your room. Your elder gave you a look akin to pity when he broke the news to you. Your mouth hung ajar and your brow furrowed before twisting into a look of anger. But you couldn't fight back. You knew this. Your colleague Hana, who would be taking your place, gave you a sad smile before promising to bring you something "most delicious to eat." It didn't ease your concerns but you thanked her nonetheless.

Standing up, you walked over to your bed to lie down. You flopped unceremoniously onto the covers that had been made undone from when you lied in them prior to where you'd sat at your desk. You stared up into the high ceiling wondering then if this would be your life until the end of time. Of course it would. You know this because this was all you knew. Wherever could you go? Even then, would he ever let you go? A sick feeling took over your gut at the thought. You couldn't bear to think of such things. If you did you might go crazy.

You curled under the blankets humming an unknown tune to yourself trying to will all negative thoughts away. You stayed like this for a while. Thinking, breathing, staring at your wall before it became too much. The silence deafening. For a manor filled with many it was painstakingly quiet.

A huff slipped past your lips as you sat up; choosing to bring your laptop to bed with you in hopes of finding some entertainment. And so you did for at least a while. Catching up to some of your favorite creators' content on YouTube. It had been a while since you last watched some of them so there was enough to binge and keep you entertained. Long enough until you felt the need to use the restroom.

You paused the video before coming to a pause yourself in wonder. That wouldn't be an issue would it? Leaving your room to use the bathroom? Knowing Hyun-Woo it just might be but you needed to go. He wasn't one for comprises but you weren't one to piss on yourself to avoid eventual conflict.

"I'll be fast," you grunted to yourself. Fast enough to get in and out and back to finish this Let's Play.

You stood up on to your tiptoes in preparation to sneak. As if a vampire within close proximity wouldn't be able to hear you. There shouldn't be any in these halls to begin with. They would be having dinner now. Right?

Your head tilts in wonder before you run to your laptop to confer to the time and roughly by now they should be gathered to eat. At least you hope. With a resolute nod you tiptoe out into the halls to go and relieve yourself.

It was eerily quiet. Quiet enough to almost hear your own heartbeat. Once or twice you've experienced this silence if you had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, but during the day it felt off. Not uncomfortably so though. Even as you settle onto the entirety of your feet after reaching a toilet you felt serene. Comfortable. Happy. Maybe it was because you had no responsibilities and could live, if for a moment, as if you were the one being waited on. You snorted before cleaning up. That would be the day.

Running water filled the air as you washed your hands. Scrubbing hard enough at them to make them red. You quickly dried them after in hopes to be back in bed soon to finish the video you were watching. You recently had gotten into Let's Play videos. Never having the chance to play games yourself you watched others do it instead. You rarely had the time to enjoy games unless it was through the reactions of others but it made it more fun for you because you didn't feel alone in the experience.

You paused.

Did that make you sound a little lonely? Maybe but it was still fun.

After making sure your hands were dry you stepped out into the halls. Still quiet and still free until you stopped short. Your ears perk up and for a moment you feel your heart beat accelerate. You could hear voices. Not unfamiliar ones. Way too familiar ones: the triplets.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You pace back and forth wondering if you should run back to your room or back into the bathroom. Unsure as to what to do and wondering why the hell your Masters were walking this way instead of entertaining their guests.

You scratch your head with a low groan before settling on returning to the bathroom. As you reach the door a hand grips tightly around your arm swinging you back to face them. You swear your heart skips a beat too many at the infuriated face staring back at you.

"What are you doing out here?" Hyun-Woo's words leave him in a harsh whisper.

As much as you would have stood your ground you could barely bring yourself to. Never having to face any of your Masters' ire before. "I-I had to pee."

Your meek words give him pause and for a second his expression changes into one of pity.

"You know we have guests," he sighs.

"But I had to pee."

He nearly cooed. "I know. I need you to go back to the restroom. Brother is giving a tour. It's been a few centuries since the Bangtan Lords have been here. Please understand. He's holding them off for a minute but not a minute longer." His hands curled around your face as he pleaded.

You were planning on returning to the bathroom anyway before he stopped you but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything as you simply nodded.

A thankful smile graced his lips before he turned you around and pushed the door open for you. "Go."

You try to but his grip doesn't seem to leave you. The back of your shirt knotted in his fist. You turn to look at him only to see his face morph into a series of expressions - none too pleasant.

"A mouse."

Your brows twitch in response to the unknown voice. You slink your head slowly to the side to see three unfamiliar faces along with Masters Hyung-Won's and Hyun-Sik's.

"You seem to have a little mouse scurrying your halls."

Hyung-Won chuckles awkwardly. "Y-yes. This one should be in her bedroom should she not?" The question could've easily been directed towards you but the wild and irritated look in his eyes are directed towards his middle brother.

"Why?" Another of the Bangtan Lord's questions. "Is it sick?"

"Jungkook she's not an it. Be nice."

The one named Jungkook doesn't seem the least bit apologetic for his wording though oddly enough you couldn't tell if he meant it in a harsh way.

Another awkward chuckle. "She is a little under the weather. It's why she wasn't there for the greeting.

"Poor creature."

"Jungkook."

Your eye twitches the slightest bit and you wonder what the punishment would be for mouthing off at a Lord. Vampire or not.

Hyun-Woo loosens his grip before patting your back. "Yes, she was on her way to the restroom is all. Nothing to worry about."

"Does she have a name?"

The quietest of the trio spoke, his eyes never leaving your form almost unblinking. Neither of your Masters answered. The quiet Lord raised a brow in direction of Hyun-Woo waiting for a response he clearly wanted.

You hesitated for a moment before speaking out of turn. "Y/N, my lord. L/N F/N."

There was a pause at your words before you felt a sharp pinch in your back where Hyun-Woo's fingers dig sharply. You try and pay it no mind as the Lord smiles at you.

"Jung Hoseok," he responds softly. "But you may call me Hoseok."

You smile back awkwardly before bowing.

No one says a word for a deafening moment before a chuckle erupts from one of the Bangtan men.

"Thank you brother for the introductions!" The remaining nameless brother laughed in a need to ease the tension. "I am Kim Seokjin and this is our youngest Jeon Jungkook."

"Hello, mouse. Please me refer to me as Lord Jungkook only. Not Jungkook."

If your annoyance wasn't being made clear already you're sure the violent twitch of your eye made it apparent by now. You take back your thoughts from earlier. You're sure he's being a mocking, arrogant, prick. Nothing new to you.

Hyun-Woo clears his throat by your side. "Yes well, she'll be going now." He turns to look at you. "I'll see you later."

A sigh escapes you. As much as he is trying and failing to conceal it - you can see the irritation in his eyes. You don't want to deal with whatever he might throw your way in the privacy of his chambers.

You nod in response ready to leave before you are stopped. "If I may," Lord Hoseok speaks up. "Maybe you can join us later during the feast."

Your mouth opens and closes. "O-oh I-"

"She's sick." Hyun-Woo grits out.

Hoseok seems to pay him no mind as his eyes never leave your figure.

"Is it contagious?"

Seokjin gives a defeated sigh at his youngest brother's question. Followed by it a chuckle by the youngest of your own Masters' trio.

"I'm sure she's fine. Why don't you join us, love?"

You don't miss the way both Hyun-Woo and Lord Hoseok flinch at Hyun-Sik's term of endearment. Though the latter did a far better cover up with a clear of his throat than the one beside you who glared daggers his brother's way. Hyun-Sik gave another little laugh in response.

Instigator.

For once, Hyung-Won seems at a loss for words. Unsure of what to do or say in response. He knows he shouldn't deny your presence to avoid the questioning gazes from his guests who can clearly tell you are not sick. Or face the childish wrath of his middle brother who would no doubt burn one of his favorite plants if he even so much as allows you to mingle with anyone that isn't him. Gods know he's done it before...

"If it makes you uncomfortable, mayhap another time, but I would like to get to know you."

Hoseok's words freezes your breath as it no doubt does the Baeks' as well if the tense figures and outright shit eating grin that takes over the youngest's face says anything about it.

"I think that would be-" Hyun-Sik starts off before Hyun-Woo effectively shuts him down.

"A terrible idea." He's unable to hold back his irritation towards Hoseok at this point. His possessiveness gleaming off of him in a way for all to see.

Lord Hoseok's jaw flexes in response. If for a moment it would seem he would say something in response to your Master's words - it comes and goes rather quickly. Instead, a soft smile graces his face and with a nod he responds to just you, "Another time then."

You shuffle your feet a little along with your fingers that worry between each other. You hum in acknowledgement before giving an awkward almost hesitant bow. "Bathroom," you merely say like an idiot before you quickly see yourself out. Just before you can get the door closed fast enough you hear the pout in Hyun-Sik's voice as he speaks. "Hy-Woonie doesn't like it when others play with his food."

You nearly groan as you face palm yourself. No doubt they could hear the too loud smack you immediately regret doing from the other side of the door. You don't hear a response to the youngest Baek's comment but you already know the look being sent his way would have easily sent a human off cowering. If he was one.

You roughly wait for a minute you counted in your head until you believe it was safe enough to leave. Peeking your head out, you can hear them in the distance but no longer see them. You take the moment of freedom to hurry off into your room where you nearly slam your door closed.

"What the fuck was that?" you hiss. That was singlehandedly the most awkward exchange you've ever had with your Masters involved and the horrible timing is really starting to make you wonder if you're just that lucky when it comes to being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Your hand comes to your chest in an attempt to calm your frantic beating heart. But what truly was that? You didn't take Master Hyun-Sik's words to heart as you know him to be one to stir the pot for the sake of drama. He knew how his brother would act at just the idea of you entertaining anyone that wasn't Hyun-Woo. The middle brother would say this was at his expense but really it was more at your own expense rather than his. It was already bad enough you drew his ire for not being in your room when you should've been. Had they only told you they would walk the halls with their guests you would've held off a little longer before leaving to use the restroom. But no one said a word and you don't know if it's because this was a spontaneous tour or if this was something else. You weren't a heavy believer in what is to be fate but there's almost always a reason for everything, correct?

You grip your scars tightly. Maybe, maybe not.

In the end, it wasn't Master Hyun-Sik but Lord Hoseok who left you feeling stumped. Are the servants at Bangtan's estate treated differently? With open arms so to speak. Lord Jungkook seemed stiff and Lord Seokjin was a mix of cordial and welcoming. Not that your Masters treated you unfairly but you've known them all of your life. It was to be expected that they would treat you warmly in comparison to a stranger.

Your lips twist as your brow furrows in a brief thought. A hum escaping you before you decide it's not worth thinking so hard on. Ultimately sighing and returning to bed to continue where you left off. You look to the time to see it wouldn't be much longer until they would sit together and eat while you sat here waiting and waiting until they all leave for their rooms. Until Master Hyun-Woo calls for you because no doubt he would after what happened.

You truly dreaded the idea. Choosing to rather have all of this put behind you instead of dwelling on it but in some way you guess you dug your grave and had no choice but to lie in it when you stepped foot out of your room.

Your mind drifts back to the Lords of Bangtan estate. Hyun-Woo told you there were 7 of them. Were they all related or something else? They piqued your curiosity and for the briefest of moments you wondered how the other four looked. The three you've witnessed were dashing to say the least. They could pass as models if they so wished to be. And they were so kind, except for the one. You don't always come in contact with kind Lords and Ladies. They see the help as beneath them despite the fact that you are the ones who feed them, ready their beds, spruce their living hold and gods know what else. Alas, it couldn't be helped.

You sigh as you curl up in bed. You do hope Hana brings you something to eat as she said she would because your stomach begins to growl in an insatiable manner. You're sure you have snacks somewhere but are feeling too lazy to get up and get them. Choosing instead to hit play on the video you were watching. The sounds of the Let's Player's voice fills the air along with the sounds of the game. It's all that accompanies you and it lulls you into a sense of safety and comfort. So much so that you feel the need for a nap slowly pull you down into a state of slumber.

[delayed-affection]

hi can you do a story for Turcotte? Maybe where the reader goes to one of his games and there are photos of here with him but they aren't public yet? that be awesome thank you! :)

Secrets Out

Navigation Oneshots

Alex Turcotte x fem!reader

A/n Sorry this took me so long to write

Warnings: none I think

Word count: 1.2k

Dating Alex had its ups and downs, one of the downs was that all of your social media timelines were taken over with him and hockey.

Going on tiktok you were bombarded with edits of your boyfriend, which you didn’t mind, but it would be other random players as well. Instagram was no different, your explore page was full of hockey posts.

With twitter you get random pushed notifications from random fan accounts talking about him or the team.

After sometime you have learned to just deal with it because it did have its ups sometimes especially when it came to updates on what/how he was doing while he was away.

However what you saw today wasn’t an really an up.

~

The day before

Alex had a game today and as any good girlfriend would do you went to support him. Wearing one of his jerseys on his request seeing as he supplied your ticket.

You would usually sit in the higher seating for a better view of the game but this time you’re sitting behind the bench. Perfect view of Alex for when he’s off the ice and going through the tunnel.

The seats around you quickly fill with fill with people. All of you watch as the guys warmup and interact with their fans.

There’s two girls next to you who start to fawn over the one and only Alex Turcotte as stops at the bench for a drink.

He shoots a smile your way, the girls next to you start giggling to themselves unable to keep in their excitement.

As he skates away they turn to you.

“He was totally checking you out.” One of them tells you.

You play dumb giving them a confused look, “Really?”

She lets out a slight chuckle, “Yes girl.”

You smile but shrug it off, “Probably because of the jersey.”

“I knew I should’ve bought that jersey.” The other mumbles to herself.

~

It’s half way through the first period when Alex is seated on the bench directly in front of you. A short intermission is taking place to clean up the ice.

The girls next to you are a couple overpriced drinks in and spark up a conversation with you.

“There’s your man.” They jokingly say

You can feel your face start to heat up, if only they knew how true that statement was.

“Maybe we can get him to turn around.” They rave, “See if he looks at you again.”

Now the glass isn’t sound proof nor was he deaf to loud conversation going on behind him.

“Should we bang on the glass?” They ask

You shake your head no, “It’s fine he probably wouldn’t even turn around.”

Just to spite you he turns around on queue with a shit eating grin on his face.

The girls start geeking out, the one closest to you excitedly shakes your shoulder.

The further one whips out their phone recording the interaction, “Do you think she’s cute?”

He checks you out and nods, making you blush and the girls go wild.

~

You had gotten up to go to the bathroom before the next period started.

The next little warm up started and Alex was just feeding into the girls antics.

The girl’s recording the team as they come out of the tunnel, turning the camera to him as he notices your disappearance.

The girls turn you take notice of your now empty seat.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” One of them shouts at him.

He throws his hands up in confusion.

“Do you want her number?” They ask

He laughs and turns around, taking a short lap on the ice.

~

Present day

When you decided to do your daily mindless scroll on Instagram the last thing you were expecting to see was the incident from the game.

The unexpectedness of it all caught you off guard, making your mind shift from its mindless scrolling mode to full attention.

The comments full of people asking who you were and when this was taken. Going over to your explorer with little scrolling you see different pages posting the video of the girls, you, and Alex.

You quickly put all your accounts onto private just in case anyone finds them. Not wanting to be harassed or bombarded with messages.

You knew the world would find out at some point but you thought it would be on your own accord. Not by some tipsy girls posts.

You send Alex a text telling him to come over when he can. He immediately reads it and in response calls you.

“What’s wrong?” He questions as soon as you answer.

“Nothing…” you trail, “Well something.”

You can hear him rustling around, “Are you okay?”, the worry in his voice carries.

“I’m fine.” You assure, “Its just that something happened and I’d like to talk about in person.”

“Okay, we can do that.” He replies, “I have a team meeting right now but I’ll come over when it’s done.”

~

When he got to your house the two of you spent half an hour looking at your phone. With you showing him the comments people were leaving about you and him, and how far the posts have spread.

He leans back on the couch with a sigh, “I could just say that I was playing along. And tell them to leave you alone.”

You toss your phone onto the other side of the couch, “You could.”

He puts his around around you, pulling you into his side, “Or… You know… We could officially go public.”

You slightly pull away to get a better look at him, “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “They’ve already seen you and in the video they called you my girlfriend, so why not formally introduce you to them.”

You sit there for a second to think, is he being for real right now?

Worry fills his face, “Do you not want to? Because if I’m being honest with you, I was going to ask you before this happened. If you don’t want to that’s fine.”

You quickly put his worry to rest, “I do, I want to but what if they don’t like to me?”

He lets out a quiet scoff, “Who cares what they think? I like you, that’s all that matters.”

You let your head hang low as you recall all of the comments, “But they’re already saying things.”

“Look.” He says grabbing your face, “I know you not them. Whatever they say doesn’t matter. I’m coming home to you, I’m spending all my time with you. I love you, not them.”

He continues on, “So to hell with them and their comments. I love you and I’m with you, that’s what matters. If you don’t want to go public that’s fine. We’ll let them talk to themselves and make assumptions.”

He kisses you softly before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

You take a deep breath, “Okay.”

His entire face lights up, “Really?”

You nod, “But not now let’s give it a week or so.”

He pulls you into a hug and places a kiss on your forehead, “Whatever you want baby.”

[violetszone]

Royal Ball and Throne Room

Charles x royal!fem!reader

Part 2 of this

Summary: You met Charles at the ball after the bar thing.But because of the attraction between you, it was not possible for you to stay away from each other.

WARNINGS: Quick finish,not edited writing, google translate French, kinda smut, oral (fem receiving)

A/n: I love royal family-themed stuff so I can keep this up for a while.I didn't read after writing, sorry if there are logic errors,kiss.

It was classic for the royal family to have a ball, but the only problem was that while Charles and you used to see each other as normal, for the first time after the night at the bar, you would see each other through different eyes.

So, seeing Charles kneel slightly in front of you as you and your family greet those who came to made your heart stutter. You smiled, trying not to make too much eye contact, and you had a strange feeling in your stomach. Finally, when all the guests arrived, you went inside and the ball started, you drank so much champagne from stress that your maid had to come and warn you to be careful.

While you were taking a sip from your champagne again, a man's hand took the glass from your hand and drank it.Turning that way, you saw it was Charles, and you took a step back as Charles suddenly leaned over you, hitting your hips on the table behind you. When you look to your right, you realize that he did this to leave the glass on the table.

Charles took a step back with a mocking smile, making room for you all while you cleared your throat and watched the people dancing."I didn't know you were coming" he tilted his head and looked at you "You're so formal princess you weren't like that recently, what did you say hmm I think it was fast boy?"  You quickly looked around and got in front of him.

He leaned towards you so you could hear him  "Don't worry your majesty no one can hear us over the sound of the music I didn't mean to bother you it was actually to offer you a dance" you looked at his outstretched hand it seemed like you had no choice you rolled your eyes and held his hand you walked towards the place where the people were dancing

You let yourself go to the rhythm of the slow music, you both couldn't take your eyes off each other and the attraction between you was clear enough to be noticed by everyone."Charles my parents still don't know about the bar" he looked like he understood "I was guessing, don't worry no one will know princess" he spin you around and put his hands on your waist and pulled you towards him.

"Honestly, princess, your eyes and your breathing reveal everything, I know you're interested in me, please don't try to deny it" he leaned into your ear and whispered "I'm interested in you too and it's not a normal interest, rest assured" you swallowed when he straightened his posture like before he put a hand on the hair on your shoulder and pushed it off your shoulder, every touch of his was burning your skin.

You stopped when the music stopped Charles walked away from you and bowed in front of you he disappeared into the crowd for a moment you just stood there you put your hand on your stomach like you forgot how to breathe then all of a sudden you saw Charles in the distance, you started walking after him with a momentary courage and you took his hand to stop him, he turned to look at you and smiled as if he was waiting for this moment.He grabbed your hand tightly and began to walk towards the throne room.

He walked in and closed the door behind you, as you stared at him in the middle of the room he quickly walked up to you and connected your lips.

He left your lips and started kissing your neck, then your shoulders that were exposed by your dress.You ran your hands through his hair his kisses felt so good Charles kissed your lips once more and dragged you towards the throne.

You were trying to understand what he was doing he kneels in front of you,pulled your long skirts up put kisses on your legs and came up to your underwear he took off your underwear looking into your eyes, his eyes made your heart tremble.

He put one of your legs on his shoulder and he leaned close to your cunt and blew, you bit your lips to keep from moaning this made him smirk.He left little kisses on your cunt you pushed your hips towards him and rested your head on the throne "Have some patience princess, I can barely contain myself but I want to enjoy it, I want to taste all of you"

You put one hand on your forehead and you bit your lip Charles pulled you up on your hips a little bit and started licking he was licking slowly and it was making you dizzy you were falling apart with every stroke of his tongue.He sucked on your cliotris and bit off slowly you bit the back of your hand to keep from moaning

"Dieu s'il te plait aie pitié de moi" ("god please have mercy on me") Charles looked up at you, his lips shining with your water. "Demande la miséricorde à Dieu autant que tu veux, en ce moment je suis ton dieu, princesse et je n'aurai pas de pitié" ("Ask God for mercy as much as you want, right now i am your god, princess and I will not have mercy")