#Fire people cook? What a fucking shock

[k-atsukibakugou]

god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer

pairing: fertility god!katsuki bakugou x fem!reader w/c: 2.8k warning/s: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up notes: sorry i wrote this fucked up from a cold lmao i hope u all enjoy either way! inspo/acknowledgements: god is a freak by peach prc ty @kweenkatsuki-fics @aquadenks @peachsukii @rabbbitseason for ur interest teehee

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

the ancient tongue was dead, dying a slow death as all languages did, evolving again and again with every civilisation that rose and fell, until it faded into obscurity. with the death of their language, their communication with their believers, the gods faded, too, their followers dwindling more and more as their names were buried along with the civilisations they led. once adored, worshipped, feared, now, their names only existed on scrolls, yellowed and deteriorated beneath layers of mortal history, unspoken in aeons.

katsuki kicked the door shut behind him, the bag of produce in his hand swinging back and forth with the movement. there was once a time where he was lavished with offerings of food he now had to purchase; countless altars he tended to piled with vegetables, wines, fire, soil, blood, accompanied with prayers to answer. he'd all but assimilated into living as a mortal; cooking (he was grateful, at least, for electric stoves, cooking lerthargically over a fire not quite how he wanted to spend eternity), showering, learning, exploring and working alongside the humans that once lived in his shadow.

he was one of the first to deflect from utopia, to abandon his temple, to give up on the belief that the gods, their language could return to how it was, and with it their followers. katsuki had simply grown bored of waiting alone in the stone temple, of wandering the perimeter hoping to find a lost mortal he could grant a miracle to, to find a mortal to bring meaning to godhood again. after all, what was a god without his believers?

he hadn't given up his blessings or miracles, albeit on a smaller scale than he once had, he still granted wishes as he had in utopia's heyday, the offerings he received now smiles across counters as people passed along paperwork, hoping to be one of the lucky ones, praying over pregnancy tests in bathrooms instead of in his altar. he gave up godhood, but he refused to give up his miracles, even if the mortals didn't know he was responsible.

the pot was finally at a rolling boil, his knife poised above the produce when he felt it, the sensation freezing his blood in his veins, the pull of a prayer in his veins, an echoing whisper of his name lighting his nerves alight. the god freezes, blond hair slipping into his eyes as his ears burnt, twitching at every noise, waiting to hear the sweet sound of the prayer once more.

"bakugou."

his face falls from shock to a scowl almost immediately, his pupils dilating, his skin itchy from adrenaline, his stomach twisting. it couldn't really be his name. this couldn't be a prayer. not after all this time.

the obsolete incantation runs off your tongue seamlessly; almost melodic, light as you cite the prayer carved into the stone at the base of his statue, your dialect nothing like what the prayer used to sound like, but the more you read, the harder he finds it to hate. your voice clouds his head, every word past your lips making the fog denser behind his eyes. there was a dull pain alongside it, an ache that pulsed with your every breath, the pain of a prayer.

the call of the prayer felt… foreign after so long (a millennium he thinks? maybe more, maybe less, years, decades, centuries and millenniums all blurred into one for immortals), katsuki was accustomed to the silence every god feared, the silence of being abandoned by your believers, of dwindling power and control. even with how it was feared, this almost felt worse; a single prayer cornering him in the kitchen after an aeon alone, a single spotlight in the darkness worse than the endless pitch black.

"told you it was bull." barefoot, he paces back and forth in the apartment, shifting uncomfortably as you traced a fingertip over the carved inscription, the touch feeling as if it was on the very nerves of his scalp, down the curve of his spine, catching on every bump of his vertebra. crimson eyes droop, a thick hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose, an attempt to soothe the pain of your voice bouncing around his head, the sensation of your touch on his effigy.

"hey, stop that," your giggle almost has his feet sliding against the tile, nearly tumbling backward as he stops in his tracks; his muscles straining to follow the magnetism of your voice, the melody of your intoxicating laugh while he rationalises your existence at all.

"is that why you brought me here, huh? you think being in some ancient sex temple means you'll get some?"

perks of being a god: immortality, immeasurable strength and influence, impenetrable skin (with maybe a couple flaws). downsides of godhood? the power of their followers over them.

it was… overwhelming, the itch beneath a gods skin when a devout believer called their name, the weight of a prayer, the unshakable desire to follow the call. thankfully, the perks also included the facilities to do so; something akin to teleportation, the voice like a blinding beacon in the night, guiding the god.

once upon a time, civilisations ago, it was a lot, too much, the night always lit like it was daylight with the light his followers cast out. his temple existed for this very reason, devout believers building the god a home, a sanctuary for the light of his followers, complete with the marble sculpture of the built god. then, it was at the centre of the village he ruled over, now, you and your lover had hiked up a mountain, and back down into the valley to find it, the stone weathered and covered in vegetation, it was a miracle you'd been able to work your way inside.

dragging his finger over cold stone, every ridge and bump as it once was, katsuki reminisced about a time before the silence, before the darkness, a time when people lined outside his temple with dreams of a child. years ago, women came alone to his temple, clad in robes they'd weaved specially for the fertility ritual (sometimes gifted at their weddings), kneeling in the altar to offer anything they had in exchange for their heir; piles of gold from queens who begged for a prince, beloved and wise to rule their kingdoms peacefully, warriors armed with iron to wish for a knight, strategic and strong enough to return home from battle again and again, farmers gripping their herbs with soil-stained hands, praying for a child born with kindness and thumbs so green the village would survive the winters once more, a marble statue of the god, towering at over 9 feet tall from a sculptor wishing for a child with as much passion for the arts as their parents.

visitors now were only accidental, stumbling upon the temple in the darkness of the valley, seeking shelter, safety, protection. never a prayer tumbling from their lips for an heir (he answered their prayers nonetheless, never allowing harm to befall anyone on his blessed grounds).

peeking from behind a pillar overtaken by the vegetation, he finally spotted you.

you sucked the breath from his lungs, walking further into the temple, a cute, mischievous grin tugging on the corners of your soft lips, chasing your lover with your eyes as he spoke, "you don't think it's romantic? fucking in an ancient sex gods temple?"

"he was the god of fertility, not sex." you step onto the age worn sigil by the base of the imposing statue, brushing layers of grey dust away.

you look so similar to the countless women before who laid on his mark, the way you studied the carved sigil carefully, curiosity and stars sparkling in your eyes, a heat burning beneath your skin, adrenaline spiking in your veins. eras ago, women were bare on the sigil, stone icy against their skin as they drew runes, marking their skin with blood, dirt or ink, in the language native to the gods.

"what's the difference?" their voice was low, lips brushing beneath your jaw, biting at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, nimble fingers sliding beneath your shirt to tug it higher, higher, on your torso, tugging the material over your head with a flick of his wrist.

the god was no stranger to topless women, probably seeing hundreds and thousands of them in his prime, but the way the man in front of you toyed with the fat on your chest nearly making his eyes meet the inside of his skull. your allure was impossible to resist when your boyfriend rolls your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, tugging on the sensitive skin to pull a delicious whine from your throat.

the silence had made him soft.

"i've been waiting all day for this," katsuki's blood rushes in his ears when you both fall to the floor, limbs already beginning to tangle together, bodies becoming one at the mouth, at the hips, at the chest. your sweet sounds echo in the temple, increasingly breathless the longer you kissed and nipped and sucked and bit at your boyfriend.

the ancient tongue was dead, katsuki knew that, knew you had no way to know what you'd read, like some naive final girl in a cliche horror film, that the very god you were laid at the base of was real, that he could see and hear you, that his cock throbbed watching you. you had no way of knowing what you'd started. carmine eyes study the beat of your heart in your chest, the way your tits look when your breathing quickens, how irresistible you look when deft fingers trace the seam of your panties.

katsuki prays himself for the first time in his long life that he's the only god to see you right now, to watch your face change the lower your boyfriend travels, dragging his tongue over your skin as he goes (katsuki's thankful for every time the mortal man bites at your skin, for the yelp it elicits anytime his canines sink into your flesh). his fingertips twitch at his sides, itching to finalise the ritual you'd started with the single murmur of his name, the first syllable of a language foreign on your tongue but you'd recited it so naturally.

you exclaim your lovers name with another sweet giggle, his hands now gripping your ass, tugging your obstructive underwear down your pillowy thighs, tossing it as far as he can the moment the garment is free from your ankles.

the god's ears scald at the way you sound when the brunet's tongue flicks against your skin, sucking at your pussy just to draw increasingly needier sounds from your pretty mouth. he's not even watching you and he already knows your hips are jumping from the stone floor, grinding onto your lovers mouth and nose to work yourself closer to an orgasm. your moans echo in the stone temple, bouncing in every corner before travelling back to his ears, tempting his attention to you.

he stays steady, sharp carmine eyes narrowing on the altar.

more specifically, the lump of material atop the bench.

your underwear is draped across like an offering of its own to him, far more lewd than gold, iron and herbs, but it made his core ache when the moonlight caught in the centre of the fabric, a small damp spot glistening in the light.

fuck, it hurts, every nerve aching, screaming to finally put an end his celibacy, unbroken for far too long. he hadn't felt a need for a mortal like this since the beginning of his existence, the pure want filling his head with fog. this is a duty, this power he has, it is what he was made for, there was never this heavy, dense fog filling his head before, no follower making his blood burn like you were. and you didn't even know what you'd done.

bakugou's gaze is finally drawn back to you, your spine arching away from the stone, fingers tangling at the base of your boyfriends skull, tugging the hair harshly as you chanted his name, your hips stuttering, grinding messily back and forth on his face, until you stopped. you were still wound tight, your thighs clamped tight around his ears while you recovered, a dopey, lovesick smile planted firm on your cheeks.

your squeal makes his dick twitch, one last flick of his tongue over your overstimulated clit, blond eyebrows furrowing so hard at the centre it makes his head pound, you were making his head hurt. a desperation to finish the ritual filled his lungs, every breath a reminder of his name on your lips, of your panties across the altar, of your naked body atop his mark.

he needed this, needed to bury his cock in a pretty cunt, to fill you until you were a babbling mess, needed you.

sitting back on his knees, your lover wiped your creamy cum from his chin with the back of his hand, spreading it from his face to his fingers, hardly doing anything to clean the mess you'd made of his mouth.

your boyfriend finally moves out of the way, giving katsuki the front row seat he deserves, your thighs shining with slick the masterpiece he'd come to see. unblinking, he thinks he's squeezing his cock through his pants, he's not sure, too hypnotised by the way your hips still twitched, chasing your boyfriends warmth. onyx and ruby eyes alike study your face, glued to the way your eyes roll into your skull when his fingers, still wet with your cum, trace your clit once more, teasing the entrance of your pussy before circling your sensitive nerves once more.

katsuki knows he's stroking his cock now, frantically tugging at the zipper still preventing him from relief, his fist moving at the same pace you grind your hips down to your lovers hand, sucking his fingers into you, squeezing your cunt around them until your thighs shook. his hips rock into his hands when your tongue lolls from your mouth, your moans getting faster and faster once more.

he has to bite his lip to stifle a groan of his own, his fist pumping faster and faster again, squeezing the base of his cock when you press a kiss as soft as silk to his lips, looping your hips around his, tugging him closer when you came again.

"fuck, baby, next time you cum, it's with my cock inside you." dark hair shields your face from katsuki's vision momentarily, your boyfriend leaning over you, searching his discarded coat for something, tugging it closer and pulling each pocket inside out.

your thighs slip from his hips as he moves, wincing as your thighs made contact with the icy stone instead of his warm skin.

"shit, i think i left the condoms in the backpack," sliding the empty jacket over your chest, you tuck it beneath your arms, clutching it close to you with one hand, the other waving your boyfriend off as he ventured back toward the entrance of the temple, your gaze lingering on his ass until he was out of sight.

another perk of godhood: the blessed ground was subject to the chosen gods whims. some gods had their temples in the centre of labyrinthian mazes, others had their temples impossible to find, buried beneath the earth or deep in the ocean, hidden between mountains, camouflaged in vegetation, some invisible until the winter solstice, or until the new moon. katsuki never quite cared for that, leaving his temple as his followers built it for him, not implementing challenges for believers to prove their dedication like others had, only protecting his hallowed ground. until now.

stone scrapes against stone harshly, the coarse sound painfully invading your ears as the temple entrance seals. you drop the jacket into your lap, rushing to shield your ears from the sound with your palms pressed hard to your ears, searching around the room for your boyfriend, for his protection, katsuki supposes, like a mortal man could save you from the god you summoned, from what you started.

stepping out from the dark corner, his figure casts a sharp, long shadow as he stands to his full height in front of the statue. like this, you look identical to the women he used to bestow his miracles on; splayed on his sigil, staring up at him with dewy eyes (your blown pupils imperceptibly widening when your gaze rakes over his large form, taking everything in; blond mess of hair, darting crimson eyes, ruffled shirt as he rushed to hold it in his mouth watching you get your cunt eaten, his still-unzipped pants and finally the impressive bulge of his cock), your lips parting when he finally relaxes his shoulders, now standing easily at the shoulder of his statue.

"you-re—" your eyes dart between the imposing statue and his steely face, your voice airy, wobbling slightly as you continued, "you're real?"

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Sim Jaeyun

doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), creampie, slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging, anything else lmk! wc: 7.7k synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible masterlist | sunghoon a/n: hi! this is the first part of a 4-part series! again, i need to thank the requester for this because i am having so much fun writing it <3 the plot and everything will be gradually laced within each chapter so, while they can stand alone, it's best to read them all. thank you for everything and as always, likes, reblogs, feeback is all welcome!

p.s, please read the intro it sets up the whole story so you guys know how y/n got there and who soonyeol is.

You've been inside this home for exactly 42 hours and 51 minutes and surprisingly nothing significant has happened.

The silence surrounding the mansion is unexpectedly comforting, providing a much-needed respite from the hectic city life you've despised. The constant noise - whether it's the cries of babies, the grumbles of angry men, or the blasting car horns powered by thoughtless road rage - has progressively worn on your tolerance. No one talks about how exhausting it all is.

Maybe this is why people go on holiday, you wonder. Even though you're here for work, there's a sense of relaxation in the air that leaves you feeling peaceful. 

Before Soonyeol went on her ominous business trip, she left you a binder full of strict instructions on how to mind her house. It’s packed to the brim with dos and don'ts such as; cooking exactly 4 meals for the dolls at 5.30pm, placing them around the dining table, and never entering their rooms unless transporting them to their recreational activities. 

Each doll had their own rigorous routine, with some reading, some playing the guitar, and so on. Soonyeol made it clear that sticking to these routines is a must, which included the difficult chore of physically changing the towering dolls in the morning and before bed. They weren’t exactly hollow or porcelain, they were super realistic, their skin had some form of heat to it, and they had some weight to them but not as heavy as they first appeared. You had asked Soonyeol what they were made of but she brushed your question off, leaving you even more curious, the only conclusion you could come up with was sandbags or clay.

Currently, you are in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that none of them will touch. Of course, you didn’t expect them to chow down on your homemade lasagna considering they couldn’t even move their mouths, but seeing everything laid out and untouched after you give them exactly 35 minutes to eat (a rule in that godforsaken binder), it fills you with a sense of unease.

Within the mansion's walls, time seems to grind to a halt unless you make it move, you as the sole animate presence amidst the silence. 

You bring the plated food into the dining room, placing a dish in front of each doll. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you play along dutifully, conscious of Mia's warning that the dolls may be rigged with hidden cameras. To be fair, their eyes do seem to follow you, or perhaps that was just your imagination.

“This is such a waste of food,” you scoff, placing the last plate down to the doll with freckles on his face who is labelled in the binder as Sunghoon. You can’t help but think about all the food that is being wasted when there are people still relying on food banks, it makes you bubble with anger, yet, you’re the one doing it. You could easily just not feed them and just pretend to Soonyeol you did, but again, the eyes that surround the castle could be the difference between you keeping this job and going back home with nothing.

Soonyeol could easily fire you if it got back to her you starved her precious babies while she was gone, and that £5,000 is enough money to get you by while you look for another job, so you’ll do as you’re told for now.

With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands on your apron and offer a forced smile to the lifeless dolls, "Enjoy," you mutter sarcastically, before turning on your heel and retreating from the room, leaving them to their silent feast.

“Thank you!” 

The words catch you off guard, freezing you mid-step. Did you actually just hear that? Slowly, you spin on your heel, astonishment written over your face. There they sit, precisely as you left them, their expressions the same as before. Yet, undoubtedly, the voice came from their direction.

Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you examine them closely, your fingers poking Sunghoon’s shoulder to try and elicit any response, but one never comes. 

You could have sworn you heard a voice, a soft accent drifting into your ears. It’s not like it could have been the TV or radio, Soonyeol was lacking in the entertainment department, opting for more classic ways to entertain herself like board games and books.

"This place is making me lose my mind," you scoff, disbelief mingling with a nervous laugh. You are officially losing the plot, thinking the dolls can suddenly speak. What’s next, they’ll suddenly get up and help you with the dishes?

Maybe you just need to go for a walk around the mansion, touch some grass or whatever. Your mind needs some nature to set itself straight. With a final incredulous glance at the dolls, you shake your head, dismissing your fanciful worries. 

Stepping into the garden, you're greeted by the warmth of the summer sun kissing your skin. The sprawling lawn stretches for acres, overgrown yet hinting at hidden beauty beneath the tangled vines and moss-covered statues.

The pathway is clear, giving you a chance to wander further into the field. With some TLC and a green thumb, you ponder whether you could turn this landscape into a true garden, it’s not like there is much else to do, but would Soonyeol be okay with that? Everything else in this house is seemingly stuck in a different century; the large gold-framed portraits, the scatter of porcelain dolls that look like something straight from a horror movie, and the furnishings scream Renaissance. Maybe she prefers it that way.

You are perplexed by the mystery surrounding Soonyeol and her isolated living. A lack of information about her and this home has you grasping at straws. The mansion has no internet or even a good phone service which raises your suspicions about her more. There is only a landline phone that is set to make local calls. All you've learned from this information is why she resorted to placing a job advertisement in the newspaper.

Questions swirl in your mind. Why choose such isolation? Living alone, devoid of company or modern comforts, seems unimaginable. Two months might be tolerable, but for someone to endure years in solitude, it's perplexing. But then again, who are you to judge? She might prefer her own company and God knows there must be a lot less drama.

Lost in thought, you reach out to touch a thorn from a withered rosebush, only to recoil in pain as it pricks your index finger, "Shit!" you shout, instinctively sucking on the wound as blood wells up. Why you felt driven to touch such an obviously dangerous plant escapes you completely.

Sulking back inside the house, you walk directly to the kitchen, the sight of familiar surroundings provides some consolation as you go towards the sink, your injured finger throbbing with each step. Who knew a thorn could cause so much damage?

You reach for the basin and turn on the cold tap, hoping for a little relief. As chilled water falls over your wound, you sigh with relief, the coolness relieving the pain immensely, with a sudden sensation of peace flowing over you. 

The clock's chime breaks through the quiet, jolting you back into reality. It's 6pm so it's time to tend to the dolls again. You reach to get a plaster from the first aid kit, only to find it empty except for a single bandage and some foil blankets. Panic sets in as you examine the seriousness of your bleeding finger; it’s a neverending flow of crimson which only makes you pout, sucking on it once again.

Desperately searching the kitchen cupboards, you find bits of kitchen roll and sellotape. It's not ideal, but you have no other choice. You gently wrap the kitchen roll around your wound, securing it with sticky tape. The improvised dressing will have to suffice; the thought of spilling your blood on Soonyeol's cherished dolls sends chills down your spine. You don't want to think about what she would do.

Stepping into the dining room, you're greeted by the familiar sight: cold food arranged neatly before the four unyielding dolls. Their impassive stares seem to pierce through you, sending a chill down your spine.

With a theatrical pout and arms crossed, you address the silent company, "Didn't quite hit the mark with my culinary masterpiece, huh?" you jest, met only with the silence of inanimate figures. Chuckling to yourself, you gather the untouched plates onto the cart, contemplating a pragmatic solution, "Well, I suppose I could just freeze these and give them to you tomorrow," you quip. Soonyeol said to feed them, she didn’t say it couldn't be the same meal over and over again.

After clearing up the dining hall and putting the meals in the freezer, you make your way to retrieve the rusty wheelchair you are convinced will give you tetanus from the hallway closet. It’s the easiest way to transport the boys from A to B, and you daren’t carry them anywhere in case you drop and smash them. 

As you unfold the chair, a creak reverberates from behind you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as a chill courses through your veins. While the old house has its usual symphony of creaks and groans, this sound feels different, more sinister, as if someone - or something - is lurking in the shadows.

“Hello?” you say whispering yet not daring to look behind you. If you have learned anything from the multitude of horror movies you’ve watched over the tears, it’s that as soon as you look back, all shit breaks loose.

You stand there with your heart pounding in your chest and you scold yourself inwardly for succumbing to irrational fear, "Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together," you mutter, attempting to rally your nerves. But the silence that follows your whispered reassurance only amplifies the unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for whatever may lie behind you, “Fuck, Y/N, just turn around. If you’re going to die, you might as well get it over with,” you chide yourself, voice tinged with frustration.

Thinking it’s best to just face whatever your demise is, you swiftly turn around, half-expecting to come face-to-face with some unseen terror. Yet, all that greets you is the empty hallway, bathed in the dim glow of the flickering lights. There's no sign of an intruder, no lurking threat—just the same mundane surroundings you've grown accustomed to.

You never thought you’d think this, but you’re happy to see the tiny collector dolls that line the hallway.

A mixture of relief and embarrassment floods over you as you realize the absurdity of your fears. "God, I'm losing it," you mutter, a manic laugh bubbling up from deep within. With a self-deprecating shake of your head, you lightly slap your forehead with the base of your palm, chastising yourself for letting your imagination run wild.

First, the talking dolls, now this unfounded paranoia—it's becoming increasingly clear that the isolation of this mansion is taking its toll on your sanity. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shake off the lingering unease and embarrassment to focus on your duties. 

With a determined stride, you make your way back to the dining room, the memory of your brief bout of hysteria fading into the recesses of your mind. You push the wheelchair over to the table to retrieve one of the dolls, however, a glint of blue catches your eye.

A plaster - suddenly, inexplicably there, resting in front of the doll named Jongseong.

Your brow furrows in confusion, disbelief coursing through you. "How... was that there the whole time?" you mutter, disbelief colouring your tone as you glance between your injured finger and the God-sent plaster.

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you reach out to pick up the plaster, examining it closely as if searching for any sign of trickery. But it appears to be nothing more than an ordinary adhesive plaster.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle. The rational part of your mind insists there must be a logical explanation for the plaster's sudden appearance, but logic seems to have taken a backseat in this peculiar mansion. 

Surely you would have noticed it on the table when you were serving the food…right?

Deciding to set aside your questions for the moment, you carefully retrieve the plaster and apply it to your injured finger, the soothing sensation providing a small measure of comfort.

As you finish tending to your wound, you cast a wary glance at the dolls, half-expecting them to spring to life and offer an explanation. But they remain as silent and motionless as ever, their enigmatic presence only adding to the mystery of this place.

With a resigned sigh, you focus once again on getting the dolls to their rooms. Maybe if they’re out of your sight, you’ll stop conjuring up these ridiculous notions that are swirling in your mind.

“C’mon Jaeyun, let’s get you to bed,” you say softly as you pick him up with a strong heave. The weight of him in your arms is a humbling realisation that you need to start going to the gym more because lifting a doll shouldn’t be this taxing.

Plonking him onto the wheelchair, you begin to make your way to his room. The corridors grow longer each time you make the journey to their respective bedrooms and with the house being the size that it is, transporting them is the equivalent of taking a quick nip to your big Tesco and back.

Finally reaching Jaeyun's room, you turn the ornate handle and push the wheelchair inside. The room is bathed in a soft, amber glow, casting a warm hue over the plush furnishings and intricate decor. With careful precision, you guide Jaeyun onto the bed, taking a moment to study his features up close.

The doll's face, once unsettling in its hyper-realistic detail, now holds a curious fascination. Despite the initial unease you felt in their presence, you can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation.

Jaeyun's eyes, a rich shade of brown, hold a mesmerising depth that seems to draw you in and they glimmer with an almost golden hue when touched by sunlight, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to his already captivating features. His lips, full and luscious and they evoke sense of envy into you, marvelling at their perfection. His nose, a graceful arc that sits harmoniously amidst his features, only adds to the beauty.

With gentle admiration, you touch his bottom lip with your thumb, amazed at its softness. If Jaeyun were a living, breathing being, you can't help but imagine how irresistible those lips would be, how you would find any excuse to steal a kiss. The feel of his lip beneath your thumb is uncannily real, its texture mirroring your own, and as you release it, it springs back into place as if alive.

Your eyes dart over his face, drinking him in as you fix his long, dark hair, “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, the words leave your lips almost unintentionally, spoken in peaceful tones as if frightened to disrupt the calm tranquillity of the moment. 

“Thank you.”

Your entire body goes rigid as you hear the same words from the dining table, mirroring the exact accent you had heard before. The hand that had been gently brushing aside the stray strand of hair now drops to your side, your eyes fixed on Jaeyun's mouth as it forms into a bright smile.

As if gasping for air, you stare at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger in his direction. "Y-you just spoke!" you manage to exclaim, your words choked with bated breaths. Panic threatens to engulf you as you try to understsnd what is happening.

Your mind races, grasping for something, anything to hold onto as the world spins around you but there's nothing, and your body betrays you, collapsing to the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the surreal nightmare unfolding before you.

With wide, terrified eyes, you watch as Jaeyun moves slightly, preparing yourself for the inevitable scream that threatens to tear from your throat. But before you can utter a sound, he rushes towards you with a look of panic etched on his features.

Jaeyun's eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle any outcry. With a gentle yet urgent expression, he leans in closer, his lips forming almost silent words as he implores you to remain quiet, “Please. Shhh, I’m sorry!” he says with urgency, trying to stop you from bellowing out and causing alarm.

Your chest rises and falls with the rapid beat of your heart, your head suddenly feels faint and conflicting emotions wash over you. Fear, confusion, disbelief - all vie for dominance as you struggle to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before you.

With wide, frightened eyes, you stare up at Jaeyun, searching his face for any sign of explanation or reassurance. But all you find is the same look of concern mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters, his body now relaxing as he feels your mouth close under his palm, “If I take my hand away, please don’t scream, okay?” 

His words are filled with panic, a frantic attempt to prevent more concern. When you look into his eyes, you can sense the sincerity in his plea, a glimpse of humanity you didn't think was possible.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the air thick with tension and uncertainty on both of your parts. But then, with a shaky breath, you nod in silent acquiescence, willing yourself to trust the doll before you. 

Jaeyun’s hand slowly withdraws from your mouth but is still armed in case you fall through on your promise to stay quiet. Once he's satisfied that you won't scream, Jaeyun rises to his feet, offering you a shaky hand. You accept, noting the slight tremor in his grip, evidence that he's just as affected by this inexplicable turn of events as you are.

Standing before him, you can't shake the feeling of disbelief that washes over you. None of this makes sense - talking dolls, moving on their own accord - it's all so implausible, so surreal. And yet, here you are, faced with the undeniable reality of Jaeyun's existence.

"What are you?" you ask tentatively, withdrawing your hand from his as you study him intently, searching for any clues to unravel the mystery.

Jaeyun tilts his head in confusion, his expression mirroring your own bewilderment. "I'm a doll, you know that," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but how are you moving? How are you speaking? Are you possessed? Alive? Am I dreaming this?" you barrage him with questions, your mind racing with a million possibilities, each more absurd than the last.

“I’m Sim Jaeyun, manufactured in 2002,” Jaeyun says as though it’s so obvious, which to his defence, it is - the stamp on his back that you’ve caught sight of while changing him is proof, "I'm the model made for Australia. G'day mate!" he adds, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation with an exaggerated Australian accent. But his efforts fall flat in the face of your mounting terror and confusion.

"I don't understand," you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty, "How is this possible?"

Jaeyun's expression softens, sympathy flickering in his eyes as he meets your gaze, "I wish I had all the answers," he admits, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation, "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand what's happening to me. I ended up here one day. The others just tell me not to ask questions.”

As Jaeyun's words sink in, a surge of disbelief sweeps over you, threatening to overwhelm you in a sea of bewilderment and despair, "Others? You mean..."

"My brothers, the ones you've been looking after for Soonyeol," Jaeyun says, his voice calm.

The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks: all four dolls, like Jaeyun, are somehow alive. You've spent the last two days living under the same roof as these living dolls, entirely oblivious of their true selves. The idea of it sends shivers down your spine, and a dreadful feeling rises in the pit of your stomach.

Every creak in the floorboards, every echo in the halls - you had chalked them up to the ageing mansion itself. But now, you realise that they were caused by these living dolls moving about, silently watching and listening to your every move.

You contemplate the idea that you're going insane because the stress and isolation of the mansion have finally taken their toll on your sanity. But deep down, you know that this is far too real to be a figment of your imagination.

Sensing your distress, Jaeyun guides you to sit beside him on the bed, his touch gentle yet strangely disconcerting. A doll is offering you comfort while your mind is in a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. In what world is any of this normal?

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as you sit in silence. A small smile creeps on his face and a blush somehow paints itself on the apples of his cheeks as he remembers your earlier comments.

“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks gently, drawing you back into reality from the maze of your mind.

“What?”

"You said I was beautiful," he repeats, his tone gentle yet earnest, his eyes filled with a quiet joy. Jaeyun's smile widens slightly, his body shifting to fully face you.

As you finally meet his gaze, the weight of his words settles upon you, and you see just how much your earlier compliment meant to him. The twinkle in his eye reflects a depth of emotion that mirrors that of a human, his happiness evident in the way his features soften and his eyes light up with warmth. If he was beautiful before, he is otherworldly now.

“Yeah…you are,” you confess, now reciprocating his blush.

Jaeyun's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and you can't help but feel something blossom within you. His palm, slightly cool against your flushed skin, serves as a reminder of the surreal reality in which you find yourself.

Jaeyun's lips suddenly meet yours, enveloping you with his gentle kiss. Touching his lips earlier paled in comparison to the sensation of his soft, plump mouth moving against yours, and it sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through your veins; for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.

But as reality crashes back down upon you, the weight of what you're doing comes crashing down.

This is a doll, not a real person.

You push Jaeyun away and your mind suddenly clears, “What are you doing, Jaeyun?” you ask both perplexed by his actions and a little disgruntled by yours.

His wide eyes only serve to make you feel guilty, there’s a tinge of hurt in them along with confusion. His hand removes itself from your face, leaving your cheek cold and craving his touch again.

"Soonyeol says I should kiss when I want to show my appreciation," Jaeyun explains, his voice tinged with confusion and a defeated tone that tugs at your heartstrings. It's clear that he's not accustomed to being rejected like this, his owner obviously giving him what he wants.

Now that you think about it, Soonyeol must know they’re real, meaning she has relationships with these dolls. Granted, you figured that out when you were undressing them and saw they are anatomically correct, but now this is a whole new layer. She has formed connections with them that go beyond using the dolls for her pleasure. 

"Isn't it cheating?" you ask, locking eyes with Jaeyun, ignoring your swift realisation of the risk. Those beautiful brown eyes seem to draw you in, inviting you to forget all reason and succumb to the burning need between you.

He shakes his head slowly, a tinge of hesitation in his eyes as he chews his lip, "No. Soonyeol shares us, which means I can be shared. It's how it works," he says, his words laced with desperation as he tries to defend his actions. He knows Soonyeol won’t see it that way, but he needs you for his own selfish pleasure; he can’t wait two months until his minder comes back.

However, the rational half of your mind perks up one last time, refusing to be influenced by Jaeyun's words, forcing you to express the painfully evident reality that lies between you, "You're a doll, Jaeyun," you say, the words thick with reality.

However, as if feeling your wavering resolve, Jaeyun's demeanour changes, his puppy-like appearance giving way to one of mischief and longing. With a sudden boldness, he comes in closer, your noses touching as your breath hits his lips.

"I'm a doll with everything you need," he says seductively, sending shivers down your spine as his luscious lips brush against yours with each syllable. 

Your heart races as Jaeyun's proximity overwhelms your senses. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

As Jaeyun leans in for another kiss, his persistence and gentle touch send a rush of heat coursing through your body. You find yourself melting into his embrace once more, unable to resist his lips on yours. His smile against your mouth fills you with something beautiful.

His hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, sending your senses reeling. The surreal sensation of his tongue, colder than any other person's you’ve had the pleasure to kiss, intertwining with yours only adds to the intensity of the moment.

But as the kiss grows more passionate, you feel Jaeyun's hands begin to roam, his touch becoming more urgent and insistent. The way he impatiently tugs at the hem of your t-shirt and his hips practically humping the air through desperation, heightens your own arousal.

You draw back, taking your shirt off, giving him what he wants. Jaeyun's eyes light up in delight at the sight before him, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your bra as he seeks to explore every inch of your body.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as he stares up at you. You understand why he’s so used to getting his way, that face of his could start wars if he asked. 

With a soft smile, your fingers continuing to thread through his hair with a gentle touch, "Nothing in comparison to you," you confess, your words spoken with genuine admiration.

Jaeyun's response is a soft whimper, his body trembling slightly under your touch as he leans into your caress. It's clear that he thrives on the affection and validation you offer him, cherishing every compliment and sweet gesture. He isn’t going to take control of this situation, he wants you to lead him, to make him feel like he is yours.

And he looks so fuckable right now.

Feeling emboldened by the rush of desire coursing through your veins, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation. With a newfound confidence, you gently push Jaeyun back onto the bed, straddling him as you hover above.

His eyes widen in surprise, a mix of anticipation and excitement flickering in their depths as he watches you with rapt attention. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands trailing down his chest and exploring every contour of his body.

Jaeyun responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your back as he returns your kiss with equal fervour. But as the heat between you intensifies, you can sense his longing for more, his desire for you palpable in every touch and caress.

You plaster on a mischievous smile and lean back slightly, teasingly tracing your fingers along the waistband of his pants. He hitches in anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently urges you to continue.

With deliberate slowness, you begin to unbutton his pants, savouring the feeling of power that courses through you with each movement. As the fabric falls away, you're met with the sight of his cock outline, his arousal evident in the way he strains against the confines of his underwear.

You lean down to press your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jawline as you whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to look after you, baby doll?"

He mewls out and nods quickly, knowing that is the only thing he needs right now. Your touch is different to Soonyeol’s, yours is filled with a new fire that you’re discovering, while Soonyeol’s is experienced and knows of Jaeyun’s wants and needs. He can’t deny that he feels even more alive than before right now.

Trailing one finger over his clothed cock, you apply pressure as you reach his tip, causing him to whine out. You aren’t typically in charge in the bedroom but you can’t deny how easy it is when Jaeyun is underneath you, silently begging for you to claim him.

You pull down his boxers, seeing his cock in a new light. Honestly, you tried not to stare at it too long when you changed him but you knew whatever Soonyeol had ordered, she ordered it with herself in mind. He was average-sized but curved to the right, meaning he could hit places some others couldn’t; even the thought made your mouth water.

There’s a desire to know how his cock is standing to attention considering there isn’t any blood in his body, but this whole situation defies logic so what’s one more question to add to the pile? All you can really think about is how good having him inside you will feel.

Grabbing his length, you begin to pump him gently, still trying to navigate how fragile he is and how far you can take this. He isn’t made of glass but you still need to be careful. 

His reaction is immediate, his jaw slackening as you pick up the pace, your movements becoming more assured. Jaeyun’s legs kick slightly as his body involuntarily moves under your touch, desperate for more than you’re offering him.

Sensing his need, you lean in and give his cock a teasing lick before spitting on it, slickening the surface to make your motions even smoother. His breath hitches at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he arches into your touch, craving more of the pleasure you're giving him.

With a hunger that matches his own, you release him from your grip and lean down, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. His gasp fills the air as you envelop him, the wet heat of your mouth sending shivers down his spine.

"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice is barely a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and pleasure.

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a smouldering intensity before returning your focus to the task at hand. With practiced skill, you move your lips and tongue in tandem, exploring every inch of him with a fervour that leaves him trembling. 

There is an urge to look after him, with each whine and whimper he screeches out in response to your tongue flicking over his tip, you want to cherish him as your own. You carefully watch his face to make sure he is enjoying himself which clearly he is, his eyes screwed shut and chest heaving despite the lack of air.

Pushing his length further into your mouth, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, piercing your tonsils as they involuntarily try to swallow around him. You switch between bobbing your mouth and enveloping his whole cock down your throat, staying there for a moment as you nuzzle your nose against his lower abdomen.

His fingers thread through your hair, a silent plea for more as you continue to lavish attention on him, each suck and swirl of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh god, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with need. "I-I can't... I'm gonna..."

Can he cum? Like physically, is your mouth about to be filled with doll cum? You’re going to find out eventually.

But who says he can get everything he wants just at the bat of an eyelid?

You pull back slightly, your lips glistening with saliva as you gaze up at him with a wicked grin. "Not yet," you tease, your voice husky from the beating your throat has just taken, "I want to hear you beg for it.”

His eyes widen with anticipation, a need burning in their depths as he watches you, “But Soonyeol always lets me cum,” he pouts, the edges of his mouth drooping down.

“I’m not Soonyeol though, am I?” you retort, your hand stroking him again, “I can stop completely if you want?” 

Jaeyun doesn’t like that idea, shaking his head manically and chanting ‘no’ as he looks at you with pleading eyes. His minder is kind, always giving him the pleasure he needs when he wants it, so this is new to him, yet, he can’t help but find some pleasure in the prolonging of his orgasm.

“Come on, baby doll, beg for it,” you murmur against his tip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tease the tip of his cock.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, his mind a haze of desire as he struggles to find his voice, "Please, Y/N," he gasps, his voice thick with need, "Please let me cum. I need it, I need you so bad."

The desperation in his voice and his tiny weeps send a shiver down your spine, and with a satisfied smirk, you relent, taking him fully into your mouth again. 

You aren’t like this in bed but he just manages to bring out this side of you and you can’t complain about it. 

As Jaeyun's fingers tangle in your hair, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, heightened by the primal instinct driving his actions. You feel the tension building in his body, his movements becoming more urgent as he approaches the brink of release.

With a final tug at your roots, he tightens, his balls drawing up as he releases into your mouth with a guttural groan of pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, driving himself deeper into your throat as he rides the waves of ecstasy coursing through him.

You surrender to the moment, allowing him to take control as he thrusts into your mouth, his movements are rough yet achingly intimate. Each sensation sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, mingling with the taste of him on your tongue as he spurts his essence. It’s not exactly cum, it doesn’t taste like it, but it’s filling your mouth up, some of it dripping out onto the bed below you.

And as he finally reaches the peak of his pleasure, his body trembling with the force of his release, you swallow him down, accepting him completely. You lap up the last few drops before giving a gentle kiss on his bell, smiling slightly as you relish in your work.

Jaeyun’s face exhibits one of pure bliss, his grin wide and his eyes closed. He looks so ethereal right now, your only wish is to cater to him. Soonyeol must have her hands full if she does this with all of them, no wonder she would need two months off.

Sitting up, his hands pull at your jeans, unbuttoning them with determination but you stop him, “Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m going to fuck you, is that not okay?” Jaeyun’s eyes have that spark in them just like before but more intense, like he’s bursting to the brim with happiness.

You can see the determination in Jaeyun's eyes, the fire of desire burning bright despite the recent climax. His eagerness to please you matches your own desire to cater to him, but you can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

"Are you not tired, Jaeyun?" you reply gently, placing a hand on his cheek to capture his attention, “I don't want to push you too far."

Jaeyun's expression softens at your words, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity, “I’m a doll, Y/N, I don’t get tired.”

Damn, maybe you should invest in one of these unalive-alive dolls with the £5,000 you’ll get from this job.

He sees your astonishment and laughs softly, his teeth on full display, “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re confused, Y/N,” his voice is back down to a whisper, his hand enclosing yours on his cheek as he nuzzles into it. Jaeyun knows how to use his charm to get what he wants but it’s significantly easier when the person he is trying to persuade wants it just as much as he does.

You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist his enticement. With a shared understanding, you move in to capture his lips in yours, sealing the moment with a delicate kiss.

His hands go back to work, pulling at your jeans to take them off of your hot body. You help him out, pulling away from his mouth to undress yourself, leaving you both naked and wanting nothing more than to be entangled in one another.

“Wow,” he utters as his eyes trail your body from head to toe. His owner is beautiful but you have something about you that is sucking him in, the curve of your hips and the stretch marks on your thighs; you’re a vision he never wants to forget.

You turn scarlet as you see him staring at you, suddenly feeling less confident than before. But he quickly eases your mind as he licks his lips and pulls you into his lap, placing you to sit right on his cock, “I think you were wrong earlier,” he mutters into your shoulder as he places kisses along your chest.

“What do you mean?” Confusion lingers in your mind as you process his words, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as you look down at him with a mixture of surprise and affection.

“When you said you weren’t as beautiful compared to me. I think you’re so wrong,” he admits in a hushed tone, hands roaming along your waist and down to your thighs, feeling every inch of you.

Leaning down, you kiss him again except this time, you grind your hips, letting his cock slide between your folds and his tip brush against your clit teasingly. The action makes you both groan out in lust, wanting nothing more than to be tangled in one another. 

Jaeyun lightly slaps your ass to signal you to hover slightly, ready to dive into you. He hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Soonyeol so his eagerness is palpable, his mouth fighting a bright smile akin to a puppy.

Once you’re above him, he guides his cock to your hole and sharply pushes into you, causing you to fall forward onto his chest.

He enthusiastically bucks his hips up into you, ensuring that he is catering to every inch of your pleasure. Although he enjoys being looked after and cared for, he will always reciprocate; your enjoyment is as important to him as his own.

It's funny how different he is with you than with his owner; with you, he wants nothing more than to impress you, evident by the way he's focused on fucking into you, but with Soonyeol, he does whatever he wants to give her pleasure but there's no need to put in massive amounts of effort.

You feel his dick pressing deep into you, that curve that you noticed earlier is now doing wonders against your walls. Meeting his thrusts, you bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pick up your pace. 

The sound of your skin slapping against Jaeyun is like music to his ears, the smile he was trying to fight off now splitting his face, the joy of fucking you so obvious from his expression. He wants to do this forever.

Looking down, you see him lost in glee and lust as he continues to thrust up into you at a fast pace, his gaze down at where you’re pussy is sucking him in. Gently, you lift his face to look at you, his wide gleaming eyes now staring into yours.

“You’re doing so good, pup,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels his non-existant heart soar at your words, his face radiant with your praise. And you weren’t just saying it, he truly was sensational, probably the best you’ve had in a long time. 

Jaeyun takes your words of appraisal and uses them to fuck into you harder, his mouth now attached to your nipple and he sucks and licks at it like a man starved.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach that signifies you’re close to release. Snaking your hand down to your clit you begin to rub circles on it quickly, but as soon as Jaeyun notices, he nudges your hand away and takes care of it himself, rubbing and pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Throwing your head back, your breathing stops momentarily as you push out your orgasm, your wetness coating your inner thighs and his cock as you cum harshly around him, “Jaeyun, fuck!” you cry, hands gripping any part of Jaeyun they can.

Jaeyun shudders as you clench around him, spilling himself into your heat along with you. He rubs his face desperately against your tits, relishing in the feeling of you against him. He has this aching need to be as close to you as possible.

Both of you are in complete and utter bliss as you hold one another, coming down from your highs.

As Jaeyun peppers open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he savours the sensation of your heartbeat, saddened slightly by his lack of. If he had one, he wished you could hear how loudly it was beating from pure satisfaction and tenderness.

"That was incredible, Y/N," he murmurs against the curve of your nape, his smile pressing warmly against your skin.

You tenderly kiss the top of his head and linger there for a moment, your fingers tracing light strokes along his back. But as the clock chimes once again, signalling the passage of time, reality intrudes upon your blissful moment.

"Fuck, I need to get the others to bed," you say regretfully, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Jaeyun's embrace. The air feels colder now that night is settling in, and the absence of his touch leaves you longing for his warmth.

Jaeyun watches you with a mixture of understanding and longing as you get dressed, his gaze following your movements with a hint of reluctance, he wants you to stay beside him the way Soonyeol does, to look after him a little longer.

Before you part ways, Jaeyun reaches out to gently grasp your hand, "Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with urgency, "Please, don't tell the others. We aren’t supposed to tell you, and they already think I’m incapable of keeping a secret,” he says disheartened, the last sentence laced with vulnerability.

His plea catches you off guard, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. Kneeling beside the bed, you take his hand into yours and kiss it softly, “I promise, I will not tell anyone, okay?” you reassure him, punctuating your sentiment with a smile, “This stays between us.”

It’s a promise not only to him but also to yourself. At the end of the day, no matter how good it was, you fucked a doll - an alive one, but still a doll. 

With a grateful smile, Jaeyun leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, a silent gesture of gratitude for your understanding, “Thank you, Y/N. This won’t be the last time, will it?” he asks tentatively, trying to seek out how you might feel about the entirety of the situation.

You weigh up the question in your mind. On one hand, you would have someone to talk to and indulge in, but on the other, it’s risky and if Soonyeol found out, you know there would be hell to pay.

“Let’s just see how it goes, pup,” you say vaguely, kissing his forehead one more time.

This mansion is filled with secrets that you need to uncover, and you have two months to do it.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emikotakayami @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[deadghosy]

Okay so I just started reading Hazbin stuff on your blog, but they're AWESOME!! I'd like to request some Catnap!reader headcanons with the Vees if that's possible?

SURE! Thanks for the suggestion anon🦆💗

CATNAP! READER W/ THE VEES FOR A DAY

prompt: one of the Vee’s grabbed you out of now where and brought you to their tower to hang out.

You didn’t know how this flat faced person got your attention…more like grabbed your tail like a untrained child 😭

Vox grabbed your tail dragging you to the Vee’s tower as you sighed, leaving some red gas out of your mouth annoyed.

I feel like somehow you would agree to hang out with the Vee’s as long as you don’t see them in your hellish life forever.

I can imagine a picture of you and the Vee’s taking a selfie, but Velvette is on her phone, Vox is smiling at the camera, and Valentino is trying to blow a kiss at you.

Valentino was trying to cook for the other two Vee’s and you only for the kitchen to burn down as you and Velvette order take out as Vox gets the fire extinguisher. Valentino is trying not to touch the ✨pretty fire✨

I headcannon Valentino finding you attractive because if your tall frame. But also your smile as you just stand there smiling having your hands behind your back.

Imagine Valentino showing off his guns and you’re like. “Who needs guns when I can do this.” You said smiling as poppy gas slides through your teeth and knocks Valentino straight out on the ground when you smirk.

I can see the Vee’s and you going in a shopping spree and you decide to fuck with them and spend almost all their saving worth. Vox knew what you were doing so he stopped you.

I feel like the Vee’s will try to use try to get info on Alastor. But that’s mostly Vox so it would useless as you don’t anything form Alastor other than Alastor hates when you knock him out for bedtime

You literally sat there as Valentino was trying to get you to watch one of his sex tapes…you knocked him out and left the room as you grumbled.

I can imagine if it was sleepover it would chaotic as hell as Vox would be the one to fall asleep first and duct taped to the ceiling as the other snicker

For shits and giggles, Velvette will say you give off Lana Del Rey vibes as you just side eye her saying, “what tf you know about Lana Del Rey?”

You two are the best music buddies of modern genre.

Imagine a cute little headcannon where they all have secret matching bracelets and they let you have one.

Vox brought you on his channel to talk about your weird and cocky appearance. You were just on there to be clowned until you smirked letting poppy gas as the camera man fell breaking the camera.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! You dumbass cat!” “I’m dumb?” You said glancing at the man beside you as you slapped him smoothly with your tail as he had a shocked face touching his cheek.

I can see Valentino trying to get catnap! Reader to wear heels only for catnap! Reader to break them in their hands shaking their head no as they walk away again

I headcannon that the only V that catnap! Reader finds tolerable is Velvette because of her whole personality and not how she tries to bring catnap! Reader down

You definitely have that fun friend troupe with Velvette which is sweet and wholesome.

Velvette and you were hanging out on her side of the tower as she was getting you dressed in [style aesthetic]. You actually liked it as you gave her a thumbs up and grin.

I headcannon Velvette and Vox to try to make you do those dumbass TikTok dance trends with them so they could get #1 on the trending board.

I can imagine catnap! Reader ordering one of tose bug zappers to only electrocute Valentino

Velvette posted you and her doing a fashion walk as Angel was shocked seeing this on her page and shows the staff of the hotel.

The hazbin hotel gang will be like: “why tf is our resident hanging out with them?” As you are just trying to see why people even love the Vee’s.

I can headcannon that Vox forced you into a group chat with them

I can see that every time you hang out with the Vee’s, your phone gets blown up with worried text from the hazbin hotel crew. And then Vox will try to hack or get into your phone to disable your phone.

I imagine you and Vox literally shitting in each other. Like you say “why as you so short.” While he thinks of a comeback to say back to you.

I headcannon that if you and the Vee’s played uno together, you’re rigging it. Cause ain’t no one gonna win today.

At the end of the day, you left their asses as you used your red smoke on them…well idk about Vox cause that bitch has a tv head. You probably gave him a virus to circuit.

BRO WHO TF MADE THAT SMIRK FOR CATNAP?! EHH? Anyways I hope you guys liked this🦆💗

[hollisiguess]

im bored so y’all are getting some hazbin hcs

Alastor is aroace and agender but he does not know it he has no clue what ANY of those words mean

Rosie actually knows that Alastor is all of those but to fuck with him she doesn’t tell him however she will from time to time call him one of those (for example when she says she knows Alastor is an ace in the hole)

Alastor and Rosie are in a qpr!

Velvette and Vox are besties they will gossip about everyone and everything

Velvette is a non-binary lesbian who uses she/her

EVERYONE in hell assume that the vees are a polycule and for the chaos they never correct anyone

Velvette barely tolerates Valentino and would like to beat the shit out of him at any given time

Ok I have to restrain myself with Velvette so last one even though Vox has beef with Alastor to everyone’s shock she hangs out with him every once and a while over some tea

Lute is aroace but she and Adam are « dating » bc people kept asking Lute out would never take no for an answer and it was making her uncomfortable

Despite everything Adam does care for Lute and is a good friend towards her hence why he agreed to the fake dating plan

Vaggie before getting her wings back would get HORRIBLE phantom pain from them and whenever Charlie would ask what was up she would always dodge the questions and Charlie wanting to respect her gfs boundaries wouldn’t push to much

Vaggies love language is acts of service and Charlie’s is physical touch

Charlie ADORES Vaggies wings she thinks they make her gf even more gorgeous then she already is

Vaggie is actually insecure of her wings as they remind her of a past she’s rather forget but Charlie fawning over them does make her like her wings a bit more

If Charlie is cold Vaggie will use her wings to make her warmer

After the battle against the exorcist Vaggie went back to thank Carmilla for her help and the two got to talking and ended bonding now they meet weekly at Carmillas to practice battle together (the both enjoy it greatly) and sometimes it leads to Vaggie staying for dinner

Carmilla Carmine is essentially Vaggies mom/mentor

Vaggie bonded with Carmillas daughters and they see eachother as sisters

Charlie will sometimes head over to cannibal town to give Rosie a visit and she now calls Rosie Auntie all the time

Vaggie brought Charlie to meet Carmilla and Charlie brought Vaggie to meet Rosie (both were super nervous to meet each others respective mom/aunt figure worried they wouldn’t approve)

Husk and Cherri used to hate eachother but after Angel forced them to hang out they grew to like eachother in a I hate u and hope u die/affectionate type of way

Angel does Cherris hair and I will not elaborate

Angel can’t cook for shit and almost set the hotel on fire many times (he’s now banned from the kitchen)

Vaggie however is a great chef!

Husk taught all the members of the hotel who didn’t already know how to play poker, poker

The hotel guests now have game night which is usually the entire cast struggling while Alastor, Husk and Vaggie sweep and have a rivalry between themselves the others are trying tho!

Alastor also taught the residents chess

Nifty eats the pieces

Im not elaborating on that last one

Vaggie and Angel actually like one another (PLATONICALLY) even considering one another one of their closest friends but neither would ever admit it out loud

Alright now that that's said Angel and Vaggie have mini cooking lessons in secret (WITHOUT ANY FIRE for safety reasons ofc) so Angel can make food for his friends

Lucifer and Vaggie actually bonded a lot especially given both are fallen angels

When Lucifer found out why Vaggie was cast out and how Vaggie had to physically restrain him from (somehow don’t question how he'd even be able to get to heaven to do it) beating the shit out of Lute

Shickingly Lucifer, nifty and Husk are friends and hang out

in fact Lucifer knew Husk before the hotel and had already grown fond of him

Sir Pentious and Charlie are besties

Charlie was the first person who Sir Pentious actually told he liked Cherri (the others still knew but like he actually told Charlie)

Sir Pentious makes Alastor babysit the egg bois after the outing he had with them a while back

Sir Pentious does like Emily but she kinda makes him sad as she reminds him so much of Charlie and he cant see her anymore given she's currently in hell

Razzle was always super attached to Charlie but Dazzle wierdly enough got super attached to Vaggie making her even angrier with Lute when she killed him

Imma end the hcs here cause this is already a shit tone lol

[l4long-winded]

mad carmy with sassy reader that doesn’t take his shit!!! (smut!)

ask and you shall receive (happy valentine's day, love)

o.s. fire in the freezer

summary: it's opening night and you're stuck inside the walk-in with your boss, carmen. can the night get any worse? (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: this took me embarrassingly long. i had a lot to get through these past weeks. i still have a busy schedule with college and life, but i want to do more of these. i have about 3 or 4 prompts i need to get to, but i think i'll be able to manage. also, this might be ooc for some people? idk, it's fiction. please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: cursing, longwinded descriptions, angry!carmy, angry!reader, takes place during the season 2 finale (pretending claire doesn't exist), implied enemies to lovers, reader's pov, reader is a line cook(?), arguing, surprise kissing, walk-in shenanigans, dirty talk, mention of fridge guy, use of the word "slutty," walk-in p in v, unprotected (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,140

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

“What the fuck did you just say?”

It’s alarming how crimson his face appears considering the walk-in’s cold air biting at both your limbs, how you imagine the rising heat of his breath combats the freezer’s chill, puffs relaying the steam building within him. It’s a miracle it doesn’t fume from his ears. Fifteen minutes have passed, fifteen minutes of remaining silent as Carmen mouthed off about the unfairness of the situation, how his cell phone doesn’t have service, how he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on out there when your coworkers have seemingly abandoned the both of you to fend for yourselves. You don’t blame him. You don’t want to be in here any more than he does, but there’s this wretched thing about Carmen that he does when tensions are high and his temper flies off the handle. He gets mean. He becomes hurtful. You’ve worked with him long enough to see it occur, the venomous speech he mutters at a high volume as a tendon in his neck protrudes and the person being yelled at flinches in shock. Though such poison’s never been doused over your head, he’s never directed that anger towards you.

Until now. He inadvertently called you an idiot along with the coworkers busying themselves outside the walk-in. There’s not much they can do about the freezer’s handle breaking, and you both know that, but he’s not calming himself down, nor is he making this easier on you when you’re stuck in the same situation as him. You two are prideful and confident in your actions in the kitchen. Sure, you’ve butted heads a few times and stared each other down from afar, but your relationship’s been tame for the most part.

“I said, ‘Stop acting like a fucking cunt.’” You bark back. So much for being tame. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth. Everyone has the grace and privilege of being able to ignore him since he’s locked away here with you, but unfortunately, you’re not as lucky. You don’t appreciate being talked down to and you won’t take it from your boss just because he’s irate and the world is crumbling beneath your feet. You want to head out there and contribute to the restaurant as he does, but you’re also not spewing hateful soliloquies to the one person who could possibly understand what you’re going through. That, and it’s fucking cold in here, you’re irritated by the temperature frosting over your skin. It’s opening night and you’re stuck with your least favorite person in the kitchen—your least favorite person possibly in Chicago. The last thing you’re going to do is sulk near the stored ingredients while he shouts and pounds away at the freezer’s door.

This is his fucking fault. How fucking dare he? Why are you paying for his sin?

Just as it did the first time, the second time renders him, miraculously, speechless. It’s not because he doesn’t have anything to reply back, this is evident in how he purses his lips together and clenches his jaw. You notice it flex as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, previously hidden by the collar he’s now unbuttoned. He stares at you with a pointed gaze, eyebrows ever so slightly knitted inwards. Neither of you has to utter a single word to understand how much you can’t fucking stand each other, how Carmen is purposely holding back since you’ve caught his petulant tantrum and condescended him for it. The absence of sound between you two is grim as if he’s waiting for the apology, but fuck him, you’re not apologizing for shit. Instead, you mimic his facial expression like he’s staring into a mirror, crossing your arms against your chest for good measure to illustrate the guard he won’t be breaking through anytime soon.

Carmen steps forward. It’s a singular step. There’s only backwards to go before you end up meeting the shelves, so you remain where you are. His body heat radiates, prominent not because you’re that close, but because the freezer’s becoming more unforgiving the longer you’re both in here.

“Say it again,” he breathes.

You blink rapidly as if he’s a mirage, as if he’ll disappear, and as if he’s grown two other heads. He wants you to say it again? Is this some kind of a test? It has to be. There aren’t many other options, besides how he steps even closer within your vicinity and away from the locked palisade ahead. The temperature rises, and the fucked part about it is that your body’s instinctual need to survive urges you to collide into his frame to share feverish flames instead of standing in the chilled atmosphere on your lonesome. Carmen’s mandibles buckle, a sign of his bottled intentions, of what he really wants to say. You wish he’d just spit it out rather than goad you into the unemployment line.

“Call me a cunt again,” he dares and confirms your previous thoughts. He’s standing so close, proximity lacking to the point where his hot breath ghosts your nose and cheeks. Again, your instincts urge, and again, you will them to shut the fuck up and let me handle this. How convoluted and capricious you are. Arguing with innate impulses on the inside while arguing with your superior on the outside, fastened to him inside an icy cage as your coworkers take advantage of the kitchen’s liberating space without you. Fuck them too, they haven’t told either of you shit in what feels like forever and Carmen’s acting out of character. He’s not supposed to be with you like this. He’s not supposed to be gazing at you like he’s about to blow up. He’s not supposed to be challenging you into an impossible situation. You’ve called him a cunt twice. Twice. Three times symbolize the three strikes before you’re out.

Well, if you’re going out, you’re going down swinging your bat as hard as you can, spins and all, dirt flying and wind ricocheting. He’s thrown his virulence. Now, it’s your turn.

“Cun—nnnmph,” is not what you expected to utter, but before you could punctuate that final phoneme, Carmen’s mouth swallowed it greedily, and transitioned it into an astonished noise muffled by his lips. Your eyes flutter, searching his face for a way to explain why the hell this is happening, but suddenly, Carmen shifts his head, the kiss he’s sprung on you deepening, and an accidental swipe of his tongue shuts your eyes. All in a matter of two conflicted seconds.

“Thought you,” you murmur between his stifling, repeated connections, “wanted me to,” he’s practically shoving his tongue against yours, “call you a–”

He grunts in frustration. Seemingly towards you. His hands grasp your biceps, forcing your eyes onto his as his breathing shallows out. “Believe me, it won’t be the only time you put a cunt in my mouth tonight,” he says sharply. You don’t know why your thighs tremor. You fault the near-hypothermia.

“Shit, you’re cold,” he states the obvious as his attention turns to his palms on your arms, as if he didn’t just plant such a filthy image in your mind’s eye. His thumbs stroke over your goosebumps, examining your skin with careful scrutiny. If you didn’t know any better, you swear you see worry cross his visage for a moment. His hands aren’t any better, but they’re warmer than your flesh, and skin-to-skin makes this situation a little more bearable. You won’t tell him that, but he seems to have an idea of how you’re not flinching away from his touch. In fact… you’re leaning into it.

“Of course I am. It’s the walk-in,” you say sarcastically. “Wouldn’t be here if you had just called Tommy,” you add, but he exhales a heavy breath through his nose. He shrugs off his jacket to his Chef’s Whites, rolling his eyes, muttering something to himself about Tony, Terry, and Tommy, fucking fuck it all.

“Shut the fuck up, put this on, and turn around,” he hands you the jacket. He had the prerogative of wearing sleeves in here, so he’s not as frigid as you are (temperature-wise, anyway).

“It’ll keep you warm while I fuck you,” he promises, hard gaze on your eyes. You gulp, a desire within you to tell him off for being so presumptive of what’s happening here. Yet, that desire is viciously censored in favor of the desire to do as he says, or more so, the idea of being railed to distract you from how cold you are.

You slip his jacket on, pivoting on your heel, biting your tongue as you lean forward and grasp the metal belonging to the shelves ahead. The inside of his sleeves are already snug and cozy on your arms because of how long he wore it. You hate it. The smug bastard’s not supposed to be right.

You gulp as Carmen’s knuckles graze your lower back, lifting his jacket out of his way for a moment to tug at the waistband of your pants. You hear his breathing stutter, his hand skimming down the sensitive flesh of your ass as his eyes trace over the thin fabric of the panties you chose today.

“Is your underwear always this slutty?” He asks, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. To be fair, you didn’t know this would be happening today.

“Find out tomorrow,” you settle for. It seems to be the appropriate response because he groans and kneads at the flesh gathered at your hip as an appreciative gesture. This won’t be the last time this happens. It can’t be.

There’s rustling behind you. You hear the sound of Carmen’s belt before you feel the cold metal prod at the meat of your posterior, sent forward since he’s not fully tugging the leather material from the loops of his pants. It’s just enough for him to get at his zipper, the noise causing your hands to grip the shelves ahead of you even tighter. Carmen’s thumbnail slides along your skin as he tucks his thumb under your panties to position them to the side. The blunt head of him strokes at your entrance, his opposite hand pushing between your shoulder blades to exacerbate the bend at your hips and the pretty dip in your spine.

“You’re really hard for a man who’s surrounded by this much cold,” you mutter smugly. It’s all your doing, revving up his engine through simply challenging him amid his grizzly attack.

However, the smugness dies on your tongue once Carmen pushes in. He didn’t offer you a smartass response, instead offering you the breach of his length, the swollen head of him prying at your soaked walls up until his hips are flush with yours. Your trembling returns and it’s no longer because of the cool air, but because Carmen begins to thrust the second your cunt gives to him. Wrath fades from your mouth, and a moan replaces it, indicating your lust and enjoyment from this, much to your own dismay.

“M’this hard because I was thinking about how fucking warm you’d be around me,” he grunts, leaning over you and jostling you with his strong movements. His pace isn’t brutal, but the pressure of each of his thrusts is. He pulls back and then buries himself as deep as he could go, the sounds of his effort being in the way his hips collide with the flesh of your ass, a smack every time he hits it just right. And fuck, does he hit it just right. The horrible thing is it’ll stroke his massive ego. The great, amazing, toe-curling thing is that it feels like nirvana. The tip of his cock becomes acquainted with a pivotal point within you that has your vision blurred, unable to make out a single label of the cans and containers in front of your face.

“H-how warm is it?” You manage. Somehow. Conversation isn’t your prerogative while you’re bent over and being receptive, gasping for air every time you attempt to shift your hips back into him and he surpasses another inch inside of you. But you’re curious.

“Like a damn furnace,” he answers quickly, increasing his pace just as fast as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Tighter than I imagined,” he confesses, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. Your feet shuffle apart, legs spreading further for him as you pant and do your best not to whine. You can’t give him that satisfaction.

But it’s no use. His name shoots off your tongue like a prayer, a Freudian slip, his middle finger stroking along your clit in time with his bruising plunges.

“Wet, so, so fucking wet,” he continues, “drenching me and setting me on fire at the same fucking time.”

Fuck, you hope they never open that door.

[sanjifucker42069]

Calm Him Down- Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: mentions of Sora Vinsmoke. Sanji has a panic attack. First ever hurt/comfort lmao, so there's that. Slight OOC as Sanji kinda breaks down, letting people in without costing an arm and a leg, the stubborn bastard. Reader's gender is not specified, but you do sleep in the women's quarters, which like, look at the gender ratio on the Sunny. There's heaps more room in the women's quarters, makes sense to chuck you there. 

It's up to you how you read their relationship here. In my mind they're close friends pining for each other, but it could easily be read as platonic or established relationship.

------

It was a peaceful day on the Sunny; the seabirds were squawking, the ocean lapped at the boat lazily, and Zoro and Sanji were arguing. Go figure. Your eyebrow twitched, where you say at the kitchen table giving you perfect access to the argument. You don't even remember how it started, probably something banal. Beside you, Chopper was reading a book, fully immersed in its pages. You tried tuning out most of the fight.

"You're lucky I don't come over there and kick the shit out of you. I've had enough of your disgraceful behaviour." Sanji growled.

Zoro regarded the blonde with a sneer. “What shit-cook, you gonna cry to mummy about it?”

CRASH. SLAM. 

You whipped your head to the kitchen, seeing Sanji staring down the swordsman with barely-contained fury. Blood turning to ice, your breath hitched. You’d never seen the sweet cook look so murderous. There was a fire in his eyes that broke your heart, like it was a glimpse to the true man underneath. You swear you could catch a hint of vulnerability, but he was stamping that down, waves of violent palpable pain rolling off him.

“You know nothing about my mother, so shut the fuck up.”

The silence that flooded the room was suffocating. You flinched, physically feeling how all warmth was sucked from the air. Sanji growled, deep and furious.

“Get the fuck out of my kitchen. All of you.”

“Hey, I didn’t me-” Zoro started weakly.

“Sanji.” You breathed.

“Get. out.” The snarl that rewarded you knocked the wind out of you. Wordlessly you collected Chopper, taking him by the hand and helping him out of his seat. The reindeer looked shocked, tears threatening to spill. You rubbed small circles into the fur above his hoof with your thumb. Sparing him one last glance, you grabbed Zoro by the ear with your free hand, dragging the hissing man. If you purposefully pinched hard, then who was to say. Surreptitiously you flicked your eyes to the cook, but Sanji had his back to you, arms bracing the kitchen counter. His hands were clutching the wood in a vice-like grip, none too gentle. You sighed, hauling the two out of the galley. Softly, you let go of Chopper’s hand and pulled the heavy door closed. Your fingers pinched Zoro’s ear hard one last time, before releasing. 

Before the swordsman could open his mouth, you shushed him. “I know. I know, okay, there’s no way any of us could’ve known. Just. Go cool down. It does no good, us being here.”

Zoro’s lips thinned into a blank stare. He muttered out a simple “Yeah,” before turning and leaving the immediate area. With a small nod you crouched down to the small doctor, cradling his little face.

“Hey Chop? It’s okay, okay? He’s gonna be okay. Do you think you could tell the others to stay clear of the kitchen for a while? Maybe you could make something to calm him down?” It was imperative you kept Chopper busy. The cute boy nodded, sniffing back his tears. You ruffled his hat against his head. “There’s our doctor! Thank you sweetheart.”

Once the small reindeer had left you leant against the door, heart breaking. In all your time as a crew, from Merry to Sunny, you had never seen Sanji so upset. Yeah, the man had a temper, but not a severe temper. Sanji could always be calmed down or diverted. It was clear. He was hurt. When you thought about it, you don’t think you’d ever heard Sanji talk about his family. You sat there in silence for a few moments before you heard it.

Tears?

No, fuck that. You don’t care if he banned you all from the kitchen, you weren’t going to let him cry alone. As quiet as you could, you crept back into the galley. Sanji was nowhere to be seen. Impossible. You’d heard him. 

“Sanji?” You asked quietly. 

The silence of the kitchen was unsettling. You weren’t imagining it, there was an almost imperceivable sniffle. The room felt suffocating, hurt and panic strangling the air. You began inspecting the room, making your way to the kitchen island. That’s when you heard it, a small voice, deep and rasping, but trying so hard to not be heard.

“Please go away.”

Oh.

You peered over the kitchen island to find him. Sanji was curled inwards, sitting on the ground. His knees were drawn to his chest, head lowered. He looked utterly defeated, slightly shaking as he held back tears. Before your brain could even process you had rounded the island at a rate of knots, sliding to a crouch. You held your hands out like you were trying not to startle him. Sanji flinched at hearing you, no, feeling you so close.

“I said go away.”

“I’m not leaving you Sanji.” 

“Go. Away.” The mumble that escaped his crying form broke you. 

“You would have to kill me for me to leave. Come here.” Sanji ignored you, his arms cradling his own body. A sigh broke its way out of your chest. He looked so small, like a boy trying hard to be brave. The shaking increased in frequency with your words. You couldn’t let him suffer like this alone. “I’m sorry Sanji, but I’m not leaving.”

The man jumped as if electrocuted when you wrapped your arms around him. You took advantage of his surprise, pulling his head against your chest. Sanji struggled, trying to distance himself, but you latched harder. The push and pull continued for a while, until you heard Sanji sigh shakily. He went limp, allowing you to pull him to you, one hand smoothing his hair, the other clinging to his back.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, just let me be here for you.”

That did it. Sanji grabbed at you, wrapping his hands around your back, crushing you. It was a desperate attempt, clumsy and clawing, clear the man was upset. You grunted quietly at the pressure, trying not to startle him. It was quickly apparent you didn’t have to worry about making a noise, as you felt your shirt become damp with tears, Sanji desperately trying to cry quietly. You knew what Sanji was like. It would scare him off if you acknowledged his tears. All you could do was try comforting him, rubbing his back and kissing his hair.

“She’s dead.”

Your breath hitched. No wonder he reacted the way he did. You tried to not feel furious with Zoro, he didn't know, but the anger was still there. Soft sobs permeated the air, each sound chipping at your heart.

"Oh Ji." You sighed, hugging him even harder. He'd have to suffocate soon with how tight you held him, but you noted how he clung to you, as if he was afraid you'd disappear. Sanji's words were clipped and shaky.

"Died when I was a kid. My fault she died, was too weak."

Shock invaded your senses, a freezing feeling travelling through your veins. You weren't sure what he meant, but you knew in your bones there was no way that was right. Sanji always struck you as a sensitive individual, all the more to cement your belief that he wasn't at fault for whatever he was thinking. "No honey, no, that's not true."

“I miss her.” Sanji’s voice was hoarse.

“I know.” You cooed softly, delicately carding your fingers through his hair. "She must have been an amazing woman if she birthed such a wonderful son."

That was the wrong move. It was like a dam burst. Sanji began crying hard, torn between seeking your comfort and escaping. You felt the tendrils of panic surfacing as you watched him struggle to breathe between sobs. Sanji's heart rate picking up, he began shaking in your arms. You watched horrified as he tried to downplay it and seem unaffected, but you knew better.

"Oh, fuck. Ji? Sanji? I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault, okay?"

Your attempt failed, and you felt Sanji pull away. Shit. Shit, he was having a panic attack. It shattered your heart as you watched him hyperventilate, unable to calm down. Without thinking you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to stare at you.

"Sanji. Honey. Its going to be okay. Breathe with me, okay? In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Try with me. Good." You coached him through, trying to encourage deeper breaths. Sanji's visible eye was bloodshot and frantic, eye flitting between your facial features. You noted his eye was not focused on anything in particular, he seemed distant. His nose was red, no doubt sore from sniffling. Shaky breaths escaped him, and you tried desperately to seem calm. "Eyes on me. Breathe. You're okay, you're here on the Sunny. We're here. You're doing good baby."

Breathe. 

Breathe with me.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Sanji crumpled against you once his breathing was finally steady. You cradled him, rocking the two of you gently. You were certain Sanji would prefer to just exist in the silence, but you couldn't help the word vomit that escaped.

"You don't have to go through this alone Sanji. You have us, you have Zeff and the Baratie. You have Nami, and Robin, and Luffy. Usopp, Brook, Franky, Chopper. Fuck even Zoro!" You were rambling, tears of your own escaping. "And me. I'll always be here if you feel overwhelmed. You can't get rid of us Sanji. We love you."

"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why waste your time?"

Sanji froze as you tilted his chin up to stare at him. You eyes were serious and vulnerable. "Time spent with you is never wasted. You are capable of being loved, and I'll be damned if I let you think otherwise."

You watched as Sanji stuttered out a shaky sigh.

"Your mum would be proud of you Sanji." Anxious, you continued. Sanji's breath hitched. "I'm sure she'd see the man I see before me; who's kind beyond a fault, who is sweet and sensitive. Who can cook the most mouthwatering dishes, who protects and cares for those around him. You're a good person Sanji. You need to let yourself believe that."

You were rewarded with a teary smile, one not reaching the eyes. Sanji looked tired, dark under eyes and pale skin. With a smile back, you gestured to get up. The quizzical look he gave you warming your heart.

"C'mon. I'll kick the girls out for a couple hours. You look exhausted, come take a nap with me."

"Oh, no I couldn't. I need to finish making dinner, a-and it wouldn't be right for me to-mmph." 

You silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips. "We're mostly adults Ji. One night of subpar food from Usopp's cooking is not going to kill us. Now c'mon."

Sanji let you lead him to the girl's quarters, specifically your bed. He watched where your hand held his, it looked like they were made for each other. In any other circumstance he'd blush and coo over the display, but right now he felt beyond exhausted, a weariness deep in his bones. He weakly protested as you took off his jacket.

"Get comfy. I'll be right back." Your voice was quiet and warm. Sanji wanted to melt. Instead, he nodded and sat down on your bed. In another situation, he might squeal and bury himself in your scent, or be embarrassed at how in charge you were. Instead, he removed his shoes, placing them neatly on the floor near your bed. He sat there awkwardly, eyelids heavy from tiredness and crying. 

The door squeaked back open. 

"Got you some water and some painkillers. I know I always get a wicked headache after I cry." Sanji gratefully took the pills, knocking it back with the full glass. He didn't realise how parched he was. Slipping your shoes off, you crawled behind him, making yourself comfortable. Sanji could see you spread out on the small bed out of the corner of his eyes. He watched you spread your arms out.

Wordlessly the lanky man laid down next to you, shuffling into your warm embrace. Sanji lightly startled when you pulled the blanket over the two of you, before you closed your arms, hugging him gently. The feeling of your hand back in his hair was comforting, so too was the small humming of Binks' Sake, lulling him gently to sleep. Before he could pass out he nuzzled against you.

"Thank you (name)."

"Anytime Sanji. Get some sleep."

And sleep he did, soon drifting off in your arms. Once you made sure he was fully asleep you frowned. Poor man. He really didn't know how precious he was. His soft snores rewarded you, and you felt your own lids get heavy. You couldn't help it, and so, cradling your own treasure, you fell asleep tangled around him.

[izzytheloser12]

~~~~dcmk incorrect quotes parents addition~~~~

Yusaku: Hey, do you know the password to Shinichi’s computer?

Yukiko: Fuck you, Yusaku.

Yusaku: Rude.

Yukiko: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouYusaku".

Yusaku: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

~~~~~~~

Toichi: This date is boring! Yusaku: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store. Toichi: Then why did you invite me? Yusaku: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Yusaku I'll do whatever I want!

~~~~~~~~~

Toichi: Ginzo, I screwed up, big time. Ginzo: Toichi, given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

~~~~~~~~~

Korogo: Ran is off at an appointment, so while She gone, I’m going to cut the sleeves off all of my shirts. Shinichi: Why? Korogo: Shes like 90% of my impulse control.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Yukiko, when Yusaku walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza.

Yukiko: *accidentally smacks Shinichi in the face with the baking sheet*

~~~~~~~~

Kaito: Well, Shinichi and I finally did it! All of thier parents: gasps, shocked expressions, etc. Kaito: That's right… We kissed!

~~~~~~~~~~

*Megure and Yukiko are teaching Shinichi how to drive*

Megure: That's a pothole. To the left!

Shinichi: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole*

Yukiko, sticking their face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth.

Shinichi: I don't think that's how the song goes.

Megure, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home.

Shinichi: Country Roads.

Yukiko: To the place.

Shinichi and Yukiko in unison: I Belong!

Megure, crying harder: What the fuck

~~~~~~~~~

Yukiko: Remember! Curiosity killed the cat!

Yusaku: Yes, but you forget that satisfaction brought it back. So yes, Shinichi, go find out if that thing can catch fire!

Yukiko: You're a bad influence.

Yusaku: And you don't know your sayings.

~~~~~~~

Kaito: You’re alive. Toichi: No need to sound so disappointed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinichi: Can we go out to get lemon pie?

Yusaku: Did you ask mom?

Shinichi: she said no.

Yusaku: Then why did you ask me?

Shinichi: She not the boss of you.

Yusaku, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaito: Mom, I got suspended from school… Chikage: WHAT?!?! What did you do? Kaito: My teacher pointed at me with a ruler, and he said “there is an idiot at the end of this ruler”. Chikage: And…? Kaito: I asked which end… Chikage, unable to contain her laughter: Okay, you just made my day.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chikage: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Yukiko: AS ENEMIES?! Chikage:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Conan: Go ahead, Ran. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry. Korogo: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation.

~~~~~~~~~

Toichi: It’s nice to be wanted, you know? Ginzo: Not by the law!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yukiko: What are you getting Toichi for the holidays? Yusaku: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when they already got everything they could've ever wanted when they married you. So I'm not sure yet. Chikage: I'm getting Toichi a divorce lawyer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chikage: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Toichi, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Kaito, whispering: Because I have little hands. Toichi: Because he have little hands.

~~~~~~~~~

Toichi: You've been given a new job to do, but I'm worried it might make you angry. Kaito: Just say it quick, like ripping off a band-aid. Toichi: You have to teach Shinichi how to drive. Kaito: …put the band-aid back on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Korogo: It’s funny how well you and Shinichi get along. Didn’t they hate you at first? Ran: Shinichi hates everybody at first. It’s his way of reaching out to people.

~~~~~~~~

Shinichi: Do you cook? Yusaku: I made a cake once. Yukiko: Yeah, it was good. Yusaku: Really? Yukiko: Don’t make me lie twice, Yusaku.

[imagine-that-100]

Will We Talk? | Part 2 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 15.2k

Warnings: Smut 

A/N: Besties, hellooo! I honestly can’t explain how shocked I am that with the response to Part 1. Alex stans you’re back and I’m thrilled you enjoyed the first part! I’m so excited to share this one with you, I can’t believe after almost 2 years this fic is finally coming out and I’ve finally finished part 2 ahahhaa. Really hope you enjoy it, can’t wait for your reactions. Let me know if theres anything that you want to see happen in part 3 because I’m very interested! Thanks again to @alovesreading and @kennedy-brooke for putting up with me pecking your head and helping with this chapter, it’s much appreciated! Thanks everyone for reading, and I really hope you enjoy! Thanks a million x

| My Masterlist | 

| Part 1 |

Just as you were turning yourself around again to head upstairs, Alex leaves you shell shocked when he asks you, “Do you want to fuck me?”

Instantly your eyes are the widest they could possibly get and you’re sure your jaw falls open. Looking at him intently to try and make sure you’re not dreaming this, you deadpan, “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Alex asks, putting the record back like it's the most casual thing to ask someone he barely speaks to, “Is that why I make you nervous?”

This should be the easiest response you’ve ever given him.

“I-”

But your words fail you. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

Wait… Do I want to fuck him?

You scorn yourself, not needing that question answered right now because you’re so confused, you have your own questions that need answering.

Your words are immediately defensive and you don’t hesitate to narrow your eyes as you ask, “What have I done to make you think that I want to fuck you?”

“Well everything that I just mentioned is what rules out fan behaviour.” Alex tells you saying this like it’s the most normal thing leaving his mouth, “It was just something else that popped into my mind whilst I was trying to figure you out.”

Why is he trying to figure me out in the first place though?

After a second Alex raises his eyebrows at you, curiously wondering, “Well?”

“I- I’ve not- ever really given it much thought.” You stumble on your words, because in truth you think you’d maybe twice looked at him and guessed he was good in bed and you didn’t let your mind wonder past that.

When he asks, “Do you not think it would be good?” after waiting for your answer, you’re sure he can read your mind.

Your brain is whurring around, but you can get it together enough to say, “I never said that.”

Alex smiles a little at that and he takes a step closer as he asks, “So your answer is yes then?”

“Never said that either.” You shake your head, taking as much of a deep breath that you can without making it obvious.

Alex shrugs a little as he watches you, “Well it's a simple question.”

Is he deluded? This is the furthest from a simple question he could ever get.

“You sound like you want to fuck me.” You fire back at him, hoping he’d give you some inclination of how he even wanted you to answer.

He smirks at you as he says, “I mean, I'd be interested in seeing if your mouth can do something other than talk at a hundred miles an hour.”

Holy fucking shit.

If you’re honest this feels like you’re having the biggest practical joke of all time played on you. You have no other idea where all this would be coming from, because you certainly can’t imagine Alex Turner - out of all the people you know - saying suggestive things to you.

You’re truly shocked to your core. Never did you ever think that this brief trip to your house would have you gawking at Alex like he was a headless chicken. But because he just said that, you’re a bit fuming now.

“You’re sounding pretty cocksure.” You frown a little at that, getting defensive, “Why does me being nervous and chatty around you automatically make you think I want to fuck you?”

“You’re not like this with anyone else.” Alex smiles as he tries to explain himself, because to him it makes perfect sense. He’s experienced it before which is why he’d rather hear you tell him straight and he hopes that explaining where he’s coming from will make you more vocal, “Which tells me you can’t blame every interaction we’ve had on you being an introvert. And you don’t know me well enough to be nervous around me because you really like me, so that leaves me with the assumption that you might want to fuck me.”

“That's possibly the most arrogant thing that’s ever left your mouth.” You frown at him but Alex can’t help but think it’s adorable. Like a mouse is angry at a cat.

But then you make him fully grin when you say in your anger, “Besides the fact you think my mouth would be occupied before yours, that's hilarious in itself. No wonder you’re single.”

Stop fucking talking Y/N. Nulled your point completely there, you idiot. Stop thinking about it!

“So you’ve planned this out already.” Alex smirks, “Good to know.”

“No I-” You stop yourself from saying anything else you regret as panic bubbles in your stomach. You take a deep breath with your eyes closed and you start to say, “Alex can you p-”

But your words halt and your eyes open when you feel his hand come to rest on your hip. You see he’s right in front of you now and he’s looking at you reassuringly with only a vague amused smile on his lips.

You’re positive you stop breathing when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes go wide again, and unable to stop yourself you ask, “Right now?”

“Yes.” Alex nods with a small laugh.

“No,” You shake your head, and shock is so clearly seen on your face and heard in your voice when you say, “You can’t.”

Alex has to ask you, “Why not?”

At the end of the day a kiss could make up your mind. Something so innocent is surely something you wouldn’t be opposed to.

You almost make Alex burst out laughing when your defence is, “Because I’ve not had a drink.” and not because you don’t actually want to.

His lips are curled up into a smile when he asks, “Why do you need a drink for me to kiss you?”

“To help me relax.” You tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and the singer has to keep it together.

Feeling the need to remind you he blankly states, “It’s a kiss.”

“Sorry,” You shake your head, looking at him like he’s just told you he has three big toes or something abnormal. What a fucking idiot, it’s not just a kiss when you’ve not had a drink. You had to ask him, “When was the last time you kissed someone sober that wasn’t a person you were seeing?”

Alex laughs openly for a few seconds there and the way he’s laughing does seem genuine. It’s the same laugh that you’ve heard when he’s in Miles’ company or anyone else who he actually likes to spend time with. You just really don’t know why you’re hearing it, but it does calm you down.

Both of you share eye contact for a few seconds as you watch him laugh and you’re processing the past few minutes in your mind. Alex Turner, your best friends’ husband’s best mate, has as asked you if you want to fuck him. And he’s pretty much told you that he wants to fuck you. And he’s asked if he could kiss you.

And as you’re thinking all of this, you’ve subconsciously settled into his hold on you. Both his hands are holding your hips now, resting gently as his thumbs move over the soft material of your skirt.

You’ve not realised you’re now looking at him inquisitively, you’re looking up at his features like you’re curious. And truthfully, now you are. The longer you look at his face, the more you wonder if his skin is as smooth as it looks. The more you catch sight of his lips, the more you wonder how he’d use them when they are against yours.

So Alex asks you a simpler question in a quiet voice, hoping to not scare you out of the trance you seem to have got yourself in. “Do you want me to kiss you, Y/N?”

You try not to think about what he’s said, instead you look up into his eyes during this quiet moment you’re sharing. He seems to understand that you’re silently asking him if he actually wants to kiss you, so Alex just leans down and answers your question.

The moment his lips connect to yours, you feel like your heart is about to go into cardiac arrest. Like it’s the last burst of energy before it ultimately gives up on you and you pass into a peaceful and less anxiety inducing afterlife.

But you don’t die on the spot. Instead, your lips move against his slowly as you let him lead you.

And Alex kisses like he has no other place to be apart from right here. The previous rush of needing to get back here and get changed before Katie and Jamie come to pick you up is as if that was never the plan at all.

You’re trying not to spiral or let your erratic nervousness get the better of you, all you try to do is focus on every movement you feel. On Alex’s hands wrapping further around your back, tightening his hold on you as he kisses you sweetly.

You're taken aback when he deepens your kiss which ends up with your hand taking a hold of his shirt and you pull on it a little as you whimper into his mouth. The noise you release doesn’t phase Alex in the slightest, if anything it encourages him further and he no longer treats you like you’re about to break.

It turns heated and Alex is pleased that you’re responding so well to him. When he draws a moan out of you, he can’t help but feel proud of himself and when you tug a little on his shirt to keep him in the kiss, he really likes it.

He’s not been able to get the thought of what you would be like to kiss or fuck since that night you came to his gig. And finding out that you were available and that you weren’t seeing anyone when he walked you home that night earlier in the year, meant that it was all Alex could think about since getting back home from the latest leg of the tour.

You’re a little breathless when he pulls away and you’re dazed to say the least. Alex opens his eyes first and sees that yours are still closed as if lost in the moment. Your grip is still strong on his shirt like his is around your waist.

“That was good, yeah?” Alex asks softly when you open your eyes.

Your words start to fail you immediately, “I-” so you end up looking down as you feel your cheeks heating up.

But the last thing Alex wants is for you to go back into your shell. “Y/N?”

You have no idea why, but you’re in so much shock at what’s just happened that you blurt out, “I don’t do one night stands.”

Alex smiles a little at that, edging his bets a little when he raises his eyebrows, “Who said it had to be one night?”

“Well, I- I’ve never done the friends with benefits thing.” Blinking a few times, as if to get your thoughts in order, you add, “In fact, I don’t even know if we’re quite friends.”

“We’ve known each other for nearly a decade Y/N,” He fakes a little hurt, “You wouldn’t call me your friend?”

“I’d call Jamie my friend. I’d call Miles, Matt, and Nick my friends.” You're honest when you say, “But I think this is the longest time you’ve ever spent alone with me.”

Alex just grins, “I think this is the only conversation we’ve ever had where you’re not speaking at double speed. Is that because you’re too nervous to even speak now or because you’re shocked?”

The singer is pleased that you don’t go back into your shell at his teasing. Instead, he’s met with the firery side of you that he met earlier when he asked if you wanted to fuck him.

“This might be the only conversation we’ve ever had. And it’s very much the shock.” Some self consciousness kicks back in though as you step out of his arms, “Do you even think I’m attractive or are you messing with me for your own amusement?”

After you move away from him a little, Alex goes and perches on the arm of your settee and folds his arms together when he answers, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that.”

“It’s a perfectly valid question.” You tell him, mimicking his movements and crossing your own arms.  

“No, I’m not messing with you. I think you’re really attractive.” Alex tells you truthfully.

It’s confirmed. You’ve definitely accidentally fallen into an alternate reality where this Alex Turner is a hell of a lot nicer than the other one you're used to.

You just believe this further when he adds, “I have done for a long time, but only wanted to do something about it the last few times I’ve seen you.”

“Are you on drugs?” You deadpan, crossing your arms as you walk towards him to stare into his brown eyes hoping for a sign that there’s a fucking party of drugs in his bloodstream.

But Alex laughs as you check his pupils and he shakes his head, “No. Not even had a drink yet.”

And you believe him because his pupils are a normal size and he seems with it in every way other than the words spilling from his mouth. And that just leaves you so beyond confused.

Running a hand through your hair, you scorn him as you begin to pace, “You could have at least hinted or something.”

“I definitely did.” Alex tells you.

Bullshit.

You shake your head as you pace, scoffing, “When?” as you don’t expect him to have an answer.

“When I told Jamie to invite you to our shows,” Alex holds one finger up and adds a second and third when he lists, “And I gave you that triple A pass, and I got you a drink.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” You stop right in front of him. Wide eyed, you go into teacher mode on him and say, “Half the time you answer me in as little words as possible when I speak to you, that's absolutely no indication that you want to fuck me Alex! I don’t even think you spoke to me that night.”

“I bought you a drink!” Alex argues his point, an amused smile still playing on his lips though. You’re funny when you’re feisty.

You want to roll your eyes at him. You end up counterarguing, “How was I meant to know that was you trying to come on to me if you don’t follow it up with a conversation or a shitty pick up line at the very least?”

Clearly Alex remembers the night better than you do because he tells you, “We had a conversation and you barely let me get a word in edgeways.”

And just as you’re about to argue back to try and wipe that victorious smirk off Alex’s face, your phone starts ringing. Quickly walking around Alex to grab your small bag that you had on before, you pull your phone out and see that it’s Katie calling you.

“Fuck,” You look out of the window and see the taxi pulled up at the side of the road. “They're here.” and you’re not fucking ready.  

You briefly answer the phone and tell your best friend that you’ll be out in a minute. You hang up when Alex gets up from his seat and you start rushing around trying to find your tights again because now you really have run out of time.

But you can’t even do that because when you turn around to try and check in another shopping bag, Alex is there and he quickly kisses you again which catches you by surprise. It doesn’t last anywhere near as long as the other one but it still leaves your lips tingling and wanting more.

Pulling away, Alex tells you, “I’ll go and tell them you’ll just be a minute. I think we’re going to have a fun night, don’t you?”

And all you can do is gormlessly stare after him before he pulls his jacket back on and leaves your house with you genuinely not being able to process the last 10 minutes. And you don’t even have fucking time to process it because you needed to be out of the door 2 minutes ago.

So you opt for the last thing you wanted to do when you left the Cook household. You slip your ripped tights off and throw them in the bin before you leave the house and once you have your bag and your boots back on, you lock up and get into the taxi.

You’re cold already which you’re not pleased about but your temperature is the furthest thing from the front of your mind as you climb in the black taxi and you’re seated beside the man who’d just kissed you twice. He looks at you with an amused grin but you don’t give him any satisfaction of looking back at him.

The annoyance in your system grows when Jamie nods down to your bare, and thankfully smooth, legs and asks, “What’s happened to new tights?”

“I couldn’t find any.” You brush his comment off and just look out of the window so you don’t say something you regret like, ‘blame your best mate for asking if I wanted to fuck him and then he kissed me twice’.

You have to bite your tongue at Jamie’s quiet comment back, “Could have saved you the dull walk back if you’d listen to me, Y/N.”

That trip home is the furthest thing from dull that’s probably ever happened to you.

~*~*~*~

At the club Alex has been quite different to how you were used to him - he seems to always be keeping an eye on you, trying to stay close to you at all times but not in an overbearing way, simply wanting to spend more time in your presence.

And whilst that’s enough to have your mind spinning after what had happened back at your house, his casual flirting is only making you even more aware of the change in his behaviour.

If it wasn’t him briefly brushing your waist with the pads of his fingers before joining your chat with Katie, it was him getting you another drink and whispering in your ear about how good you looked. Everything he did slowly drove you insane, and it was no surprise to you that you drank more as a result.

Thankfully now you’re relaxed about it, the more he’s been doing it, the more you’re enjoying it and want him to continue. But that doesn’t mean his behaviour doesn’t affect you. On the contrary, there were multiple occasions in the first few hours at the club he boldly flirted with you when only you were in earshot and he left you completely at a loss for words. But you can’t lie to yourself, it got your heart racing.

So when he comes up behind you at the bar and smirks as he jokes into your ear, “Christ, do you wanna slow down?” you don’t mind at all.

You laugh as you finish taking the sour shot you just got for yourself, “Nope.”

Being properly tipsy Alex notices definitely loosens you up a little. You don’t look anxious all the time, and you’ll actually laugh at the jokes he’s telling you and you’ll look like you’re not nervous to be around him all the time which he much prefers.

There’s something about the way he’s standing behind you but with his arm on the side of the bar, trapping you in your spot beside him that you quite like. And when you look up at him you’re trying not to smile when you see the way he’s looking at you entirely entertained, like he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

You feel your stomach fill with that nervous feeling as he keeps your gaze, but instead of blabbing on like you usually do, you ask, “Do you want to do a tequila shot with me?”

“Yeah, okay.” Alex nods and you quickly ask the bartender who served you just a minute ago for two shots.

The singer is standing close to you as you both watch the bartender move, but when you feel Alex’s hand move from holding the bar to the small of your back you look up at him. Almost as soon as you do, Alex turns to look at you too and the time that you hold eye contact, you feel that pull between you that you felt when he kissed you earlier.

And you can’t help but want him to do it again. But you need to get something off your chest before you even think about what he offered you earlier. You lean up a little so you can say into his ear for only him to hear, “I'm nervous around you because you’re always grumpy and distant with me. You never engaged in any conversation I’ve ever had with you, except tonight and the time you walked me home.”

“So there…” You lay it all out on the table for him, and you pull back a little so you can see his face again, “Before tonight nothing to do with it was about sex.”

“And I’m sorry about that Y/N. I really am.” He looks and sounds sincere as he says that, and you believe him when he tells you, “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” You nod, “So you should.”

Alex can’t help but smile as you turn back to the bar to grab your shots. The bartender has put the lime on top of the shot for you and you move them towards you.

Leaving Alex’s shot in front of him, you grab the salt shaker and lick the back of your hand before sprinkling some on the same spot before you pass it to Alex. You watch as he does the same and you pick up your lime and shot and wait for him to get to the same point you’re at.

Once he is, you’re both grinning as you turn to face each other properly so you can do the shot. “Cheers.” You smile and raise your glass up to him.

Grinning, Alex clinks his shot against yours and he watches intently as you lick the salt from the back of your hand, him doing the same simultaneously. The shot is next and he can’t help but be a little shocked when you don’t pull a face when you swallow the spirit but there is a little relief on your face when you bite into the lime.

Grinning as you both put the shot glasses back down, you can’t help the small intake of breath as Alex’s hand finds your hip this time and he holds you against him as he asks over the loud music, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Of course, you accept with a smile, “Yeah okay.”

You really do quite like this friendly side of him, whether he’s flirting with you or not, you don’t mind now you’ve had enough to drink. You much prefer this version of him to the grumpy bastard you’re mostly used to.

Pleased with your answer, Alex asks, “Amaretto?”

Nodding, you grin, “Please.” still finding it both amusing and shocking he knows your drink of choice.

Alex orders drinks for you, a double Disaronno on ice, and for him, a whisky coke. Once you have them the bartender asks the both of you, “You paying for everything together?”

And as you shake your head, Alex verbally disagrees telling them, “I’ll get them all please mate.”

“No,” You shake your head, looking at the bartender and saying, “Let me get the shots.”

“I’ve got them Y/N/N.” Alex gently knocks your hand with your card in, out of the way and puts his card on the machine before you can get yours there.

You sigh and look at Alex who now has a shit eating grin on his face and frown. But instead of scorning him like you want to, you tell him, “I’m getting the next ones.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Alex smirks despite having no intention to make you pay for anything tonight.  

You pick your drink up and smile at him, “Thank you.” as you take a sip.

Alex smiles as he picks his drink up too and he rests his hand on the small of your back as the both of you make your way back over to your friends. It's about 10:30pm now and you’ve had a great night so far, especially after Kelly came out to join you too along with Nick and Kirsten.

You always thought Nick's divorce was amicable, thankfully nothing like Matts (although you will and always will be on Breanas side of it). But you’ve always loved that Nick never made Katie feel like she couldn’t bring her friend out with you all, and it helped that Kirsten always got on with Kelly and she just became another friend.

Before you take a seat, you thank Alex again and he smiles and nods as he moves to sit beside Nick. You perch yourself down next to Katie as your previous seat and seeing an opportunity arise you lean in and kiss her cheek to draw her attention.

“Hello gorgeous.” Katie grins, her eyes lighting up seeing it was you who kissed her.

“Oh stop it.” You can’t take a compliment to save your life so your cheeks heat up a little.

Albeit, not as much as they’ve been heating up as a result of Alex flirting with you since you got to this club. His flirting made you glad for the low lighting because you don’t want him seeing just how much he can affect you.

Katie asks, “Where have you been?”

“I went to the toilet and then went to the bar to get a shot, but ended up doing a Tequila with Alex.” You explain why you’ve taken so long.

Katie can’t help but smile at this. It feels like you and Alex have somehow slowly become much less awkward with each other the past few times you’ve seen each other and your best friend is thankful for it.

She knows it’s not from your lack of trying, despite how shy you are. Katie is just glad Alex is finally giving you a break and not being a colossal twat.

So she smiles at you as she points it out to you, “You and Alex seem to be getting on easier today.”

“Yeah,” Your eyes go a little wide at her saying that.

You’ve not told her anything about what was said at your house earlier, nothing about the kisses or the proposition to fuck. So you know she’s just being genuinely happy for you that you’re not feeling awkward on a night out with him.

And you really don’t fancy opening that can of worms and making things awkward for yourself by telling her. Because, despite loving your best friend with all your heart, you know she won't keep her mouth shut and it will make you so overly paranoid, you’d rather pretend like it didn't happen and just keep silently enjoying being flirted with.

“He’s not acting like a total dickhead and ignoring me which is helping conversation.” You nod, chuckling a little as that is usually what made your skin crawl in the past.

“Well yeah, that will do it.” Katie laughs.

You let your eyes glance back to the man who bought you your drink and your heart stutters a little when you see he’s already looking at you. You feel your cheeks heat up again as a result of his stare, but you smile back at him as your stomach flips and you give your attention back to your best friend.

Alex on the other hand, can’t take his eyes off you, or more specifically your lips. Since you’ve returned to your friends, you’ve not stopped licking your lips, making them more plump by the second. All the singer can think about is having them on his own again, and he’s dying for it. He should have kissed you at the bar like he wanted to.

He’s half certain you’re doing it unconsciously as a result of the tequila shot, as he can still taste it on his lips too. You only seem to be doing it when you’re not talking, so he realises that must be the reason you’re doing it and not to just silently torture him.

You girls manage 5 minutes of chatting to each other again before you hear the start of Beyonce’s Single Ladies fill the room and it's Katie who gasps and stands up immediately. She drags you from your seat, demanding that you go and dance with her and after that tequila shot, you’re in no position to deny her.

Kelly and Kirsten join you and you’re not sure how many songs pass, it all becomes a bit of a blur as the boys come up and hand you more drinks when they spot you’ve finished your others. Alex is the one who comes up and gives you yours, the first time you notice his eyes scanning your body and you feel no need to hide under his stare like you usually do, you feel great and you’re having too much fun so you thank him and let your eyes take him in.

He looks fucking great. The Chelsea boots paired with his blue jeans that are tight on his arse, and since taking his leather jacket off earlier, he has rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt making him drool worthy. His hair is a nice length again now, longer on top instead of the buzzcut makes him look younger again.

Alex doesn’t miss the way you look at him that time, and he doesn’t miss it half an hour later when he brings you your next drink up to the dancefloor. He catches your eye and raises the glass that you can tell is yours by the shape and you wave him over, and he makes his way over to you.

You’re borderline drunk now, but for you the night feels like it’s just getting going. Little do you realise that your friends are going to have to leave in a little over 45 minutes to get back to the kids.

Alex smiles as he stops in front of you, a little out of breath and sweaty from singing and dancing but he can’t help but think you look so vibrantly alive and full of the best type of energy. This is how he wishes he’d seen you all along, this is the side he wants to see more often of Katie’s shy and nervous best friend.

“For you.” Alex hands the drink over and you eagerly accept, needing something to soothe your throat.

You grin, and take a desperate sip before saying an appreciative, “Thank you.”

Alex’s eyes move back to the people dancing behind you and over to the other 3 girls who he sees are still dancing away but quickly become distracted by Nick and Jamie bringing them their drinks. But Alex looks into your eyes as he points out, “You look like you’re having fun.”

“I am,” You nod, and because your inhibitions are so much lower now than they were earlier, you ask over the loud music, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Course.” Alex nods, smiling at the mere fact you want to.

Stepping closer to him, your chests almost together, you lean up and say into his ear, “Do you actually want to fuck me?”

Alex smirks, but instead of teasing he just leans down and lets his lips brush your ear as he confirms, “I wouldn’t have put so much effort into flirting with you if I didn’t.”

Whilst he loves the small whine you let out, he can’t help but be a little amused yet concerned by the way you rub your temples. You move back a little and tell him, “You’re fucking with my head.”

Alex thinks you look a little stressed about it again like you did earlier, which is the last thing he wants. You’d got so close tonight that he was sure you were feeling the same way he was.

So Alex tries to reignite that flirtiness with you, he leans back in and says, “I’d rather give you head, if that’s any consolation.”

Your cheeks flame at the same time your heart skips a beat and your stomach drops. You didn’t realise how much you like the thought of Alex being the one to do that until it’s offered to you. And the fact he’d said it so bluntly, there was no way you could find a way to twist his words.

He wants to do that. Alex Turner wants to go down on you. And you’ve somehow got to survive the night after hearing that, you have no idea how.

“You- I-” Trying to tell him off is pointless, and giving a coherent answer is even worse, so you end up asking, “Is your aim to make me flustered every chance you get?”

Alex smirks, and instead of answering directly, he just tucks your hair behind your ear as he grins, “You’re cute when you go all stuttery.”

Again you can’t fathom any words, you’re left a little blindsided by the compliment so Alex takes over. He leans into your ear and says, “Would it help your decision if I told you that I want you to agree? That I want you to say yes.”

When he moves back to look at you, in his eyes you can see he means it, along with the lust that’s beginning to shine through too. Whilst it’s finally nice to actually know what’s going on in his head, it doesn’t make things any easier in yours.

“I-” You start but both you and Alex get interrupted.

“Guys, we’re off.” Kirsten shocks both you and Alex out of your conversation and you both turn to her and Nick who you hug goodbye.

Not 10 minutes after they leave, Kelly decides to call it a night which you don’t entirely blame her for because after the last shot you three girls had, she looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.

After getting her safely in a taxi, you and Katie come back up to find the boys and you see them now by one of the pillars with a table around it that isn’t too far from where you were dancing earlier. You do notice now just how busy the club has got, everyone dancing is like a sea of bodies, making it very easy for the singer and guitarist to maintain their anonymity.

Katie, being the loving wife that she is, kisses Jamie deeply after she takes her new glass of wine from him, making you avert your gaze from the couple and focus on the singer again. Alex smiles at you and holds out your new drink for you to take.

“Thank you.” You say loudly over the music and reach to take it from him.

“Ah,” Alex pulls it away from you before you can take it. Over the music, he says, “I have a question.”

“Go on.” You raise your eyebrows prompting him to continue.

Alex only smirks and leans down, resting a hand on your hip as his lips brush your ear and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

The feelings both the proximity to him and the question stirs up in you isn’t unwelcome. The opposite even, but you’re just so shocked he’s asked when your friends are right there.

Kissing like teenagers and definitely not paying attention to the two of you or not, you can’t believe he’s asked when you’re barely a metre away from them.

Not wanting to say no, you bargain with, “If you dance with me?” instead of giving him what he wants on a silver platter.

You’re going to make him work for it. You don’t just sleep with anyone for the sake of it.

But before Alex can even respond, Jamie gets his attention over the music and you see him put two fingers to his lips and simulated smoking.

“Shame,” You lean up to Alex’s ear as you say that. “Maybe later.” You smirk, patting his chest before you grab your drink from him, followed by catching your best friend's hand and pulling her back to the dancefloor with you.

But it’s only about 10 minutes later when you and her find the boys in the smoking area and you tell Jamie that you think she needs some air. Katie almost decked it twice whilst you were dancing and once on the way outside so you think it’s best for her to slow down a bit before they go home,

And when you look at the happy couple, you can’t help but think Jamie will probably be worse for wear tomorrow too. Thank god it’s a Friday night and you know none of you have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.

You’re giggling with Katie as she leans against her husband and the wall one minute, but it’s when you tune out of their slurred conversation you hear your favourite song being played and you think fuck it as you disappear back inside. Once the music is loud again and you’re back in the middle of at least a hundred sweaty bodies, you let yourself loose to the music.

Despite no longer having your best friend to grind against, you let yourself have some fun. Something that if sober you saw, she would probably cringe from the way you’re moving but all your inhibitions are gone. You’re moving freely to the music and you feel fantastic.

You’re unsure how long passes before you feel a large hand hold your waist and a body pressed up behind you. But you don’t panic like you normally would, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being held.

It’s only half way through the new song that you even turn to look at who it is, and when you do you can’t help but smile and lean back into him when you see it’s Alex. At this point, he looks about as drunk as you, if not more but you don’t hesitate to let your hips move as they were with him now pressed up against you.

You would think you were throwing caution to the wind if it wasn’t for the fact you know your friends are nowhere in sight. Alex wouldn’t be this obvious about it if they were.

With the way you’ve just started grinding against him, Alex can’t think very clearly. You know exactly what you’re doing, teasing him by rubbing your arse against him where his dick keeps twitching for you.

You absolutely love the way the singer can’t keep his hands off you. If you weren’t as drunk as you are you’re sure that you’d be judging yourself right now but feeling him holding you against him and the way you can feel his lips on your neck you let all your inhibitions go. You feel the best you have in a long time and you don’t want to let that feeling go.

So when you’re encouraged to turn towards him you don’t hesitate. You carry on dancing though, putting your arms above your head as you carry on moving to the music, but then you grin at him as he pulls you into his chest and you let your arms fall on his shoulders.

It feels hot as the both of you continue to move against each other but you feel out of breath when Alex dips his head and he starts kissing just below your ear. Letting one hand fall to the side of his neck, you encourage him to continue, leaning your head in the opposite direction so he can carry on his teasing.

But there’s only so much you can take, you need more. So you pull back a bit so he moves and looks at you again, but as soon as you do you lean in and kiss him.

And this time it's like your body sets on fire, goosebumps erupt all over from the intensity of it and you want to savour every second of it. Alex pulls you into him, both his arms wrap tightly around your lower back so you can’t escape him, but you don’t want to. You want nothing more than his lips against your own now and for the rest of the night.

So much so that you don’t hesitate for a single second when Alex deepens the kiss. You welcome it in fact. It feels like its suddenly just the two of you, neither of you care that your surrounded by dozens of bodies, all you can think about is each other and how fucking good it feels to be pressed against each other.

You feel dizzy and breathless the more you kiss him which leads you to pull away for just a second, Alex stays close though and you can feel him smiling against your lips which has you doing the same. The haziness that the alcohol has made you so much more relaxed about it all, and you even find that you love the way your heart is beating out of your chest in reaction to all of it.

On the dancefloor, you kiss for a minute more until Alex ends up making you moan from the way his hand ends up sliding down and grabbing a handful of your arse. It’s at that point he pulls you away from the crowded floor and down what looks to be a corridor that leads to a staff room.

He stops you in the middle of the dark walkway but there’s enough light to see that you're grinning at each other as he backs you up into the wall and dips his head to kiss you again. It gets intense faster this time, as there’s no need to ease into it. Sparks are flying and you feel like you could combust at any second.

It feels instinctive this time and the way Alex holds you, his hand coming up to grab your jaw to make sure you don’t move from how he wants you is getting you more flustered than you were before.

When you need to part, you end up tuning in to your surroundings again, over the sound of your own heartbeat you can still hear the loud music playing in the other room and feel the bass vibrating through the wall you're pressed against. But that doesn’t mean you don’t love the way Alex is kissing your neck, his lips are so precise with what he’s doing that you can’t help but want him to continue.

However, that doesn’t mean the situation doesn’t make the anxiety spike in you once more. All of the thoughts about Katie and Jamie and the risk of them catching you or what the prospect of a night with Alex could mean come flooding back to your drunk mind, and it scares you enough to ask the man whose lips are still on your skin a question.

“If you take me home, will we talk in the morning?” You ask, revelling in the feeling of his lips on your neck. You close your eyes in complete bliss when you continue, “Or is this going to go weird for everyone involved?”

At this point you don’t really care for an answer though. You want him to keep going. You want his hands all over you. But you know that you’d regret not asking.

You feel dizzy kissing him, and you’re only sure that it's real when your eyes open for a split second where you make his face out. Lust is clear in his eyes as he attaches his lips back to yours and you can’t mute the moan that vibrates from your tongue to his.

“Promise it won’t be weird, sweet. I just want you so badly.” He almost groans before his lips attack yours again and that's enough for you for now.

You kiss him with no inhibitions on your end then, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, forcing him into keeping the kiss going. The thud of your heartbeat is the only thing you can hear and it makes you a little gutted that you don’t get to hear the moan that you drag from Alex’s lips, even if it was silenced against your own.

Feeling like a teenager in a club again is not something Alex has felt in a long time, so maybe that’s why he lets the both of you get a little too carried away. But he can’t stop himself, you’re just so enticing. If you would let him he would probably take you here and now after you start grinding your hips against his when his leg slips between yours to keep you pressed against the wall.

By the time you pull back from the kiss, you want more than just his hands on you though. You want more than just him kissing you, and that yet again brings back one last seed of doubt into your mind. And your nervousness makes you voice it.

Your breath is ragged when you pull back and express your last worry to him, “I don’t usually do this kind of thing, Alex.”

“That's okay,” Alex promises, kissing your lips hard again once more before pulling back to ask, “Are you up for just enjoying tonight and thinking about tomorrow when it arrives?”

“Or do you want to stop?” He cups your face and looks into your eyes to tell you sincerely, “We can stop if you want to.”

You can tell just by the way he’s looking at you that he’s serious. That he won’t pressure you if you don't want this, but that alone settles your worries. You trust him enough to know that he won’t be a dickhead if you let him take you home.

You shake your head, as that’s the last thing you want, “I don’t want to stop.” before you lean back up to kiss him again.

One kiss turns into two, and two turns into three and throughout all of them you can feel Alex’s smile against your lips. So there’s no surprise that he’s grinning when he pleads, “Then let me take you home, sweet.”

And this time, you don’t hesitate to say, “Okay.”

After that Alex books an uber, probably the fastest he ever has. But the both of you stay tucked away in your private spot, stealing kisses and making each other breathless until Alex gets the notification the taxi is only a minute away.

There’s an excited anticipation to how you both interact with each other on the way down to the taxi and the way you both rush to it is enough of a give away of that. But as you set off, it turns out that it’s a good thing you did both rush in because when Alex goes to put his phone on do not disturb he notices a missed call from Jamie and an unopened text.

Where have you gone? Is Y/N with you?

Alex decides to play with the truth a little in his reply. Nothing that would get either of you in the shit but the last thing he needs is you overthinking about Katie and Jamie when you were so clearly excited to be leaving with him.

Yeah sorry mate she was dancing and when we came down to find you and we assumed you’d gone because we couldn’t find you. In a taxi with her now.

You’re sitting in the middle seat, as Alex slid in the door you also entered in so you try and let your eyes focus on the words he’s typing one handed as the other runs up and down your thigh. He’s certainly the best tease you’ve encountered in a long while, and you’re focused solely on his touch and the way that once he’s done with the text he drops his phone to his lap and uses his free hand to tuck his finger under your jaw and angle you towards him so he could kiss you again.

It doesn’t get as intense as it did in the club, mostly your doing, for the sake of the driver. But Jamie doesn’t give either of you long anyway as Alex’s phone vibrates and lights up the back seats again

Thank god. Thanks for getting her home safe

Alex has never typed a reply faster.

No worries mate

And its then Alex flicks Do Not Disturb on, and he intends to have you as his sole focus for the rest of the night.

~*~*~*~

Katie was right, his orange settee is a complete and utter eyesore. And the fact that your head is a little fuzzy doesn’t help that too much, all you know is that one second you were stepping into his flat and looking around at his decor and the next your lips were on his again and you were being pressed up against the nearest wall.

It’s nothing that you don't want, because you do desperately want him now you’ve had the idea in your head all night. The more drinks you’ve had along with all the flirting has let your mind spin.

So much so that you moan when your back slams against the wall, and you eagerly respond to the way Alex kisses you. Your arms fly around his neck, keeping him close and with his hands grasping at your hips, it’s only a minute you’re like that because the next thing you know Alex has encouraged you to jump up and wrap your legs around his hips and he presses you into the wall again, this time his hands groping your arse as he kisses you harder.

There’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. It’s just pure desire that's fuelled by alcohol and how horny the two of you clearly are. Which is why a minute later Alex walks you to his settee and eases you both down onto it.

Both of you are sprawled out across his hideous couch and you’re underneath him responding to his kisses and his touches in a way that fuels him to pull more noises from your mouth.

You can’t even make his fucking face out, you’re mind is so drunk from both the alcohol and the kisses you’re receiving. You want them to endlessly continue, you feel so good about every little touch he leaves on you. Thankfully you don’t need to see his face, you just keep your eyes closed and kiss him back.

The way he’s grinding your hips into yours has you breathless and your mind is spinning even more. But it’s the feelings he’s stirring up inside you now that have you wanting more.

The way he holds under your knee with his free hand and he teasingly rocks his hips into you has you whimpering in pleasure and he fucking loves the way you sound. The way your legs tighten around his waist is enough for him to know you want this, but he continues to tease you anyway.

His lips travel down your neck and he loves the way you're encouraging him, giving him more room and cupping the back of his neck to keep him against you. Not to mention the way you whine when you want him to kiss you again, and when he finally gives in to you he can’t help but tease. He bites your lip and he loves the way your eyes roll back because of it.

After you force him into kissing you hard again, it’s only when you’re breathless that Alex pulls back. But when he sees you blissed out underneath him, he only wants to bring you more pleasure and he’s craving more now he has you where he’s been dying for you.

“Can I taste you?” Alex asks in a husky voice.

If you were sober, that question would have your cheeks heating up, eyes scrunched shut, and you putting your hands over your face in an effort to hide away. So it’s very lucky you’re drunk, you just look at him and nod, “Please.”

He kisses you again then, but this time you feel his hand that had a tight grip of your thigh has moved to slide up your skirt. The way his fingertips trace the inside of your thigh making its way higher you feel your heart start beating faster.

It all but stops beating for a second when he traces over your underwear and he groans when he already feels how wet you are. You think he’s about to tease you for it but he can’t help himself any longer, he moves the material to the side and before you can even process it, his fingers push inside you.

The way you whine and moan almost makes Alex smirk against your lips. He knew you’d make the sweetest sounds for him and he’s proven right when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers inside you.

Your grip on his hair is almost distracting. But it’s that along with your moans and the way he feels you clench around his fingers drives him on.

Alex doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the way your whole body seems to malfunction when his thumb starts to trace small circles on your clit. The noises you’re making are to die for and it has his dick growing harder with every second that passes.

He works you up, getting you breathless for him while you whine and moan beneath him. From the sounds you’re making he knows you’re getting close, and you have his dick twitching in his pants. But with the ache growing more intense but there’s no way he’s not making you cum at least once before he gets any pleasure himself.

However, to you it doesn’t seem like the case because one second your eyes are scrunched closed in bliss, and the next you’re whining and gasping disappointed because he’s not touching you anymore.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, opening your eyes to see him smirking above you.

You’re about to ask why he’s being cruel and smirking at you but your complaints die on your tongue when you see him bring his fingers up to his mouth and he sucks on one of them. Your jaw falls and he makes you feel dizzy again when he groans in pleasure.

It makes you clench around nothing, aching for him even more. But your previous protest is lost in your mind as you try to commit this scene to memory. Alex however, answers your question without hesitation as he gives you his other finger that he’d yet to suck clean for you to do the job for him. And you do so without a complaint.

“Because you’re going to cum on my tongue first.” He tells you, loving seeing you desperate for him to do anything. Seeing you practically beg with your eyes is enough for him to carry on what he had planned.

He kisses you once he pulls his fingers away, and you can taste more of yourself on his lips. Before you even realise he’s kissing down your body and your breathlessly watching him descend. You shrill can’t really believe that this is how your night has turned out, but all anxieties tied with what this means have been thrown right out of the window. You’re loving every fucking second.

Your skirt might as well not be on at this point. He’s hitched it up enough that it's not even covering you anymore, and he moves himself further down the orange settee after hooking his fingers into your underwear and you lift your hips for him to pull them off. Alex has no shame in watching you and his eyes don’t even stray when he pockets the material.

He leaves hot kisses down your thigh before his head dips further and you feel him lick a bold strip up from your entrance to your clit. Your surprised moan makes him smirk but he can’t carry on teasing now he’s had his first taste, he buries his face into you and starts eating you out with little to no self control.

You encourage everything he’s doing with the moans that leave your mouth. His tongue showing your clit the attention it deserves has your hands rooting into his hair and tugging on it as encouragement.

The way he hums against you like he’s enjoying a meal makes you close your eyes, the vibration of it feeling too good. But when his mouth dips and his tongue is at your entrance and his nose rubs against your clit, you accidently rut against his face.

It makes him smirk but he doesn’t let up. Alex starts boldly fucking you with his tongue and he has to hold your hips down so he has you exactly where he wants you, in his control.

He can tell from the way you’re moaning to the way your legs begin to shake that you’re about to finish and it drives him on. Hearing you gasp his name and tug on his hair as he relentlessly fucks you with his tongue has him clouded by desire and he doesn’t let up for a single second.

It’s no surprise you orgasm in the next minute and he loves the way he makes your back arch off the settee as the pleasure takes over your body. It washes through your system in waves and he doesn’t let up until he feels you push him back slightly, clearly over-stimulated.

You’re gasping for breath when Alex moves backup, smirking as he says, “I knew you’d sound fucking amazing.” and he doesn’t hesitate for a second to kiss you properly again. It grounds you back to the moment and he makes your heart stutter all over again, you love kissing him, it’s certainly a fun way to pass the time.

As you’re getting off with him though, Alex presses himself back down between your legs. With him grinding against you, there’s no doubt he’s making a mess but the friction is so good on your over-stimulated self you don’t care, all you can do is release a few pleasured hums that he silences with his lips. But the singer can only take so much before he needs more.

Alex pulls away, feeling his dick throbbing in his pants, and asks, “Can I fuck you now?

“Yeah,” You nod, opening your eyes to plead, “Please.”

He leans down to press a long kiss to your lips before grinning, “Let’s go to my room then, sweet.”

The singer helps you up and on the short walk to his room there’s many a stolen kiss as you both begin shedding each other of clothes. Alex’s shirt was the first to go, you pushed it back over his shoulders and it hit his bedroom floor seconds after he closed the door.

Before it even hits the ground, Alex has managed to get your top off, and to be perfectly honest you’re glad to be rid of it now. He kisses you fiercely again as he undoes your bra, and he manages to find the zip of your skirt without pulling away and once that’s pooled by your feet, you’re left bare in front of him.

Something which Alex can’t stand an extra minute without taking a glimpse. When he pulls away he doesn’t shy away from looking at your body and it’s everything he’s dreamt of and more. He holds back a groan to tell you that, “You’re stunning.”

His gaze is too intense though. He didn’t even look you in your eye to tell you that, and it makes self consciousness slip back in. You begin to pick your arms up to at the very least cover your chest, but the singer catches you and stops you, “No,” He shakes his head, looking you in the eyes now, saying, “Don’t hide yourself away, you’re stunning.”

Somehow his hands manage to slip between your body and arms so when he pulls you back against him, you’re flush against his chest. He holds himself back from kissing you for just a second so he can swear, “I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise.”

Again, the way he says it and the look in his eye has you believing and trusting him. So much so that you’re the one that grabs his jaw and pulls him down into another kiss.

Making out with him becomes more than passionate again. It’s like something else takes over the both of you. It’s not pretty or sincere, it’s lustful and fierce and it sets your skin on fire. You end up on his bed, him purposely hovering over you so you’re getting no relief, but that at least meant you were able to unzip his trousers, but that has Alex reaching a whole new level of desperation.

“Turn over and get on your knees.” He instructs you, pushing himself back up off the bed as he quickly grabs himself a condom from his drawer.

You can feel yourself throbbing now, the ache between your legs getting more intense when you’re positioning yourself how he wants you. Thank fuck there’s alcohol stopping you from overthinking because there’s no way you could do this sober, the embarrassment would eat you alive.

The anticipation is killing you, and hearing his trousers fall to the ground, presumably his boxers along with it has you wanting to whimper. You can practically feel him behind you, and when you hear the condom wrapper tear and then Alex’s soft grunt as he rolls the latex on, it makes you clench around nothing again. You’re desperate now, your desire for him is getting out of hand.

“You sure you want this sweet?” Alex asks, pumping himself a couple of times as if he’s not painfully hard already.

“Please.” You beg him, whining a little in anticipation. It’s a little pathetic of you to admit but you can’t stop yourself from continuing, “I need you.”

You can practically hear his smirk, “Need me?”

“Yes.” You tell him, and so he doesn’t make you say again you just add, “Please.”

Something excites you at the fact you’ve not yet seen how big he is. You don’t know what to expect, all you have to go off is the way you felt him through his trousers and you don’t think you’re going to be disappointed.

Feeling his hand run down your spine, you expect him to gather your hair or something, seeming like the type to want to pull on it, but instead he eases your shoulders down so your chest is against the duvet and it's just your arse is in the air for him. Without another moment to leave you wondering, you feel him grab your hips one second and the next the tip of Alex’s cock nudges your entrance which makes you gasp. But it's when he pushes forward between your legs letting him graze your clit too that has you whining for more.

Alex smirks hearing you, absolutely loving that he is the one having you react like this. The it’s him who is the one making you this desperate. He’s wanted nothing more for months than to fuck you, and he lines himself up because can’t waste another second.

You moan loudly into his duvet as he enters you and fills you to the brim. The sensation is eye watering. He feels so good. You don’t know why you’d waited all night to get it, you should have accepted the offer before you ever left your house.

He’s so much bigger than you thought. It’s a lot to accommodate to after a long time without any action, but you don’t quite know how you’re going to survive it. You just try your best to take a few long deep breaths in hope that you’ll relax a bit more and Alex seems to notice because he asks, “You okay, sweet?”

“Yes.” You nod, but your voice comes out pathetically weak, so you repeat yourself saying louder, “Yeah.”

“Good.” Alex takes a nice firm grip of your hips then, and he tells you, “Let me hear them noises you make.”

He pulls out a little then and thrusts back into you making you want to whine against the bedding again. But you hold them in until you can’t anymore. He’s deliriously good, his actions, his rhythm, the way his fingers dig into your skin, it's all so much but you can’t get enough.

Once Alex finds his fast but steady pace, you can’t control any of your reactions. It’s too much for you to mute the gasps and whines he’s drawing from you and you must admit that you like that. You’re glad everything feels good enough that you don't have to fake anything. He pulls you against him with each thrust and it makes you whimper.

You're gripping the sheets so hard you feel like you could tear them. And you know his grip on your hips will no doubt leave a bruise or two, but he feels so fucking good you don’t care. The angle makes you feel him so deep and he’s hitting the right spot over and over again and it’s making you see stars.

You think you’re doing well at not being too vocal, mostly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how good he is after being so cocky earlier. But then he opens his mouth and all of that goes out the window.

“Good girl.” He praises, squeezing your hips as he pulls you back to meet him that bit harder. He can’t help but watch as he disappears inside you over and over, and he groans at the sight and the feel of you, “Taking me so well Y/N.”

Unable to stop yourself, you moan loudly at that. And the sound itself had Alex following with a long, pleasured, “Fuck.”

“Harder, please.” You beg, knowing that a bit more pressure will have you finishing again sooner rather than later.

Alex doesn’t hesitate for a second, he does exactly what he’s asked and forces himself against you with that bit more intent and it has you clawing at the sheets. The noise of your skin connecting along with both of your moans is pornographic and it turns the both of you on even more.

Your skin has the fine shine of sweat coating it now, another tell tale sign that you’re getting closer to your climax. And with the way he keeps talking you up there’s no doubt that you think you’ll get there.

You bring your fingers up to your clit needing your release now and you groan, loving the way it’s adding to your pleasure. Alex, however, catches on and you only feel the bliss it brings you for a few seconds before it’s stolen from you.

Instead, you feel Alex pull your hand away and he secures it behind your back, holding it in place with his hand on your wrist.

Immediately, you beg, “No please. I-“

But Alex interrupts you, “I’ll make you cum, sweet, don’t worry. But I’ll be the one who decides when.”

“Fuck,” You scrunch your eyes tightly, the ache in your lower stomach and your throbbing clit is almost too much, “Alex, please.”

He can tell you're getting close, so he tells you, “Hold it.”

But that makes you beg even more, “Please I-“ but that has Alex wanting to edge you. He slows his thrusts right down almost to the point where he stops, “No! Don’t slow down.”

The singer takes no pity on you though, instead he leans down so his chest is against your back, enough for him to be able to whisper in your ear, “Don’t be greedy, you've already cum once.”

“But I- please Alex.” You whine, needing your release. You were so close and the now gentle slow thrusts have made it dissipate.

You want it to be back like it was, but Alex has other ideas. As he picks himself back up he warns you, “Take it or we stop.”

That makes you worse. You have to bury your head into the duvet for the minute he slows down. He’s loving dragging it out and teasing you, committing every moment to memory and he revels in it.

The way you’re mewling below him has him grinning, and he continues thrust slowly into you, he can’t help but tease, “Sound so needy for me now Y/N.”

It’s what he wants. He wants you desperate for him. So much that you’ll be happy with whatever it is he does give you, and the mere fact he’d brought you close once he knows it will make your orgasm all the more intense.

When he feels you getting more desperate and trying to back up into him, he gives in and asks, “What do you need, sweet?”

With half your face pressed into the bedding, you just about manage to get out, “You to fuck me harder.”

Alex squeezes your wrist that bit tighter to get you to continue, “And?”

“Play with my clit.” You beg pathetically but the singer doesn’t hesitate for a second.

With his free hand, he slides his hand over your thigh, between your legs once more and he finds your clit with ease. “Like this?” Alex cockily asks for confirmation, as if you aren’t already yelling out for him.

The way he starts fucking you hard again, each thrust hitting you exactly where you need him and that combined with him teasing your clit has you gasping for breath, “Oh fuck.”

It’s almost immediately that you feel your orgasm building again, this time so much more intensely. You can’t help but call his name as he ploughs into you over and over, “Alex!”

Clawing at the duvet isn't even working now. You’re being fucked so good it has you succumbing to every little desire and he keeps praising and saying filthy things to you as well which adds to everything tenfold.

“Can’t believe just how soaked you are for me.” Alex praises as he carries on stimulating your clit, feeling how drenched the tops of your thighs are from everything as well. He groans when he says, “Half want you to cum on my tongue again.”

“No, please,” You plead. You’re almost there now, you can’t have him changing things up again. You genuinely think you would cry if he did. “You feel good.”

“So do you.” Alex breathes heavily, punctuating each word with a thrust.

The volume in the room gets louder as your skin gets hotter. You can’t handle much more, you know you're almost there now and when Alex lets go of your wrist that he was still holding behind you back, and he reaches forward to grab your hair, wrapping it around his fist and using that as his leverage to pull you back into him. It has your back arching and your loud moan filling his bedroom.

“That’s it, sweet, can feel you’re close.” Alex praises, wanting you to give in now, “Let go for me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts from him until you’re seeing white and ecstasy takes over. You clench around him and Alex finds it difficult to fuck you through it, you feel so damn good and the sound of you reaching your climax has the singer finding his seconds later.

You’re not sure how long passes until you come back around. All you know is that when you finally do, your mouth is dry, your muscles ache and Alex’s grip on you is loosening. When he pulls out you whine and Alex utters a small apology, but you can’t bring yourself to move anywhere, you only do so when he goes to his ensuite to get rid of the condom.

When Alex wonders back into his bedroom, you’re just lying flat on his bed, still on your stomach. Now you’re just further up the bed and have your head on a pillow. He doesn’t blame you for resting, the whole thing took it out of him so he can imagine how much you’re aching.

Both of you are still out of breath when Alex lies himself down beside you, only he’s on his back and you’re still on your front. He can see that you have your eyes closed which he doesn’t exactly blame you for after that, but he also doesn’t want to call it a night just yet. Now he’s got a taste of you, he wants more.

“Are you alright, sweet?” Alex asks after about 5 minutes of you both catching your breaths.

You hum confirming you are, letting your lips twitch up a little before blinking your eyes open properly. He looks stupidly good, hair a little unruly and sweaty but also a little flushed and

Alex smiles a little, “You had fun?”

Despite having the best time with him, that embarasses you enough to not be able to verbally answer him. Instead you just nod into the pillow and give him a little hum again and you let your eyes fall closed again.

Sweet, is all Alex can think of the sight in front of him. You’re beyond sweet, it's almost sickly, he’s not used to it at all but because it’s you and you’ve been spiralling around his head for months he lets himself indulge.

After another minute of silently watching you, he almost chuckles when he points out, “This is the most quiet you've ever been.”

“Get out of my house right now.” You mumble into the pillow your face is squished against.

Alex laughs a little then, which you only realise why when he chuckles, “We came back to my flat.”

You open your eyes and look at him and his room around you and realise that you’re at a point now you’ve never been at before.

This gets your heart racing a little, what the fuck are you meant to do now? Do you awkwardly get yourself up and dressed to leave? Does he want you to stay? Do you just go to sleep now? You more than likely could as that was a workout in itself but does he want you to stay? But are you even supposed to stay?

You’re fairly certain that if it’s a one night thing you’re meant to leave? Hell, you even think that to maintain the boundary of friends or whatever the two of you are, once the benefits have ended, you’re meant to say thanks and bye and head your separate ways.

As you’re mulling all of this over, slowly getting more anxious about it, Alex feels like he can see the cogs turning in your head. You’re definitely overthinking something, probably having a hundred worries at once, so Alex opens his mouth ready to tell you to stop, but before he gets there, you ask him a question.

“So…” You feel so awkward asking, but you’d rather be told straight now than fumble over the predicament later, “Is this the part where you say it was a mistake and tell me to get out then?”

Alex almost laughs but he stops himself, before he shakes his head and tells you, “This is the part where you stop over-thinking and you let me make you cum again.”

Your eyes go a little wide at that. “You can go again that fast?”

The singer can’t help but chuckle at that being your initial reaction. He fucking loves the fact it wasn’t a rejection or a look of distaste on your face, just one of shock and curiosity.

“Can’t get enough of you, sweet.” Alex grins as he rolls onto his side so he can easily brush your hair behind your ear, before cupping the back of your neck. He whispers, “Come here” as he leans down and kisses you again.

And it was as easy as that for him to encourage you to ride his cock. Something which after you both got off with each other again, you definitely wanted just as much as him. You’re sure he’s not human because he keeps finding and unlocking all of these different things that you enjoy about being in bed with someone and he keeps using them to his full advantage.

Not that you’re complaining. You absolutely love it. And you can’t get enough of the feeling of his cock inside you.

Riding him feels different, and not in a bad way at all. You can still feel him just as deep inside you but it’s just a little more precise with where you want him. And god does he feel good.

One thing about it pissed you off though. You do all the work in the position and he’s just lying there, yes his hands are tight on your hips and you know you’re doing well because he’s moaning and groaning every time you roll your hips but you want more. You want him the way he was just before.

“Tell me I’m good.” You instruct with a pout, slowing down your movements just a little to give him more encouragement to do so.

However, this has him smirking, raising an eyebrow at you, “Oh, you want to be praised do you?”

He just knew that with the way you get anxious about things, you would definitely have a praise kink. And he can’t lie, he’s glad. He wants to see your reactions to his filthy compliments. Unfortunately for him though, you don’t see the amusing side.

“Just fucking talk to me like you did before Alex,” You snap almost because you didn’t even want to ask and you don’t want to be embarassed for asking when he should just act how he did before, “It’s fucking shit when the other person is silent.”

“Okay sweet, calm down.” Alex wants to laugh but he knows you’ll lose your temper at him if he does, so he does as he’s told, “Come on then, show me how good you can be for me.”

It has your hips moving as they just were again and Alex lets every little sound out of his mouth to try and encourage you. But when you start bouncing on his cock more he can’t help but praise you, whether you instructed him to or not, “You take me so well Y/N/N.”

You whimper at that, because you really fucking are. He’s big and you can feel him stretching you open every time you move, but it’s so much better than the last sexual experience you had however long ago now. You want exactly what he made you feel earlier and that only makes the urge you to carry on even stronger.

Alex can’t help but love the way you’re clawing at his lower stomach as you use him as leverage to move. You look so fucking good bouncing on his cock, your tits moving in time with you and the way your jaw falls open each time you bottom out on his has the singer wanting to bite on your swollen, wet lips even harder.

“Look at you go.” Alex grins, enjoying the feeling and sight of all at once, it makes it even harder to not burst into the condom there and then. He groans as he watches you roll and grind your hips on him before picking yourself back up and slamming your hips down again to meet his. “Riding me so good,” Alex groans loudly before adding, “Like you’ve been doing it for years.”

The praise almost makes shivers run down your spine, going directly to your core making you clench around him as you continue. His words light a familiar fire in you that's been dormant for a long time, to do better, to make him feel good - you’re certain you can get more out of him. Using your pelvic floor to your advantage, you clench tightly around him, making his eyes go wide and his grip tighten on your hips.

All you want is for him to think about you. You want to be good for him after he’s been so good to you, giving you two orgasms already. But you need to make sure you’re not easily forgettable, you want him to continue wanting you how he seemed to want you in the club. You want him to beg for you to be like this.

You love having him beneath you, entirely at your mercy with you controlling how it goes. The pleasure is too good to want to stop but you’re sure if you did you would hear pretty pleas and groans come from those swollen lips of his, begging for you to carry on. You haven’t felt this good in a long time, you’re soaking up the way the praise fuels your ego and makes you so much more confident.

This is how you want him to see you, not a nervous wreck every time he chats to you. If this is just for one night, you want him to remember you as the woman who made him lose his mind with want. The woman who gave him a good show that he will be thinking about for months and every time he sees you again.

The way Alex’s jaw drops and the groans he lets out as you ride him confidently makes you get into it more. You’re getting off at the sight and sound of him getting pleasure from you and it only makes you more sure of yourself. Especially when he starts losing his words over you.

“Oh fuck- sweet,” Alex groans loudly and breathlessly, “Fucking hell- fuck Y/N.”

Hearing him say your name like that, all whiney and desperate, feels like something you should be allowed to listen to on repeat in times of need just like this. You would love to see him like this all the time.

Rolling your hips with even more intent, you clench around him that bit tighter, enough for Alex to gasp and dig his nails into your skin, “Trying to make me cum, aren’t you?” He asks breathlessly, and when you just smirk down at him that bit breathless yourself, he can’t help but buck his hips up into yours as he tells you, “You feel so good Y/N/N.”

It goes on for another few minutes, Alex entirely spellbound watching you bounce on his cock, your tits almost begging to have his mouth on them as you tease them yourself, but he can only focus on clawing at your thighs and hips to make sure he doesn’t finish before you do. You’re worked up, Alex could see every single stage it progressed and how you got more confident in yourself when he started praising you, and he won’t stop, he just knows you’re growing tired.

“You getting tired, sweet?” Alex asks, not patronisingly at all, he just wants you to be honest.

You nod defeatedly, clearly not wanting to admit it even to yourself but definitely not to him. If he hadn’t already given you two orgasms, you’d have no trouble getting him and yourself off like this, but he’s made your legs weak one too many times already. There's only so much you can do and Alex knows you’ve definitely been trying to focus on his pleasure more than your own. So Alex decides to change that.

“Get yourself off, don’t worry about me. Focus on you.” Alex tells you as he grabs your hips, his thumbs pressing into where your hip meets your thigh, and pulls them down to solely grind against his own.

Your jaw falls open when he helps pull your hips forwards and your clit gets the attention it deserves. You close your eyes and moan at the sweet friction and the pleasure it builds inside you and lean forward even more, your hands resting over his heart to keep yourself up now and you can faintly feel the rhythmic beat under your palms.

“Just like that,” Alex smiles, his hands grasping your hips tightly to encourage you even more, “Good girl.”

You rock your hips against his over and over so your clit constantly hits his pubic bone and your jaw keeps dropping from the sheer intensity the pleasure is building with. White heat begins to pool at the bottom of your stomach and it grows with each passing second. You want more though, you need more of the man beneath you, so you put him to work.

Picking one of your hands up off his chest, you grab his wrist and demand, “Give me your hand.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to let go of your hip and let you have control of him for a second, he must admit he’s a little curious what you were after. Surprise is not something the singer experiences often anymore, but when you move his hand up to wrap around your throat, Alex almost loses his composure because he’s so shocked.

“Oh,” The ‘fuck’ that Alex wanted to say he keeps to himself, and instead he teases, “You're not as innocent as you make out to be, sweet.”

Your eyes are dark as you backchat, “Never claimed I was anywhere near.”

It makes Alex tighten his grip on your neck, enough to have you moan and he feels the vibrations of it beneath his palm. It only spurs you on, grinding your hips against his with even more intent and it gets you so worked up you end up moaning loudly with every movement of your hips.

Alex fucking loves watching you get off and it’s him that’s the cause of your pleasure. He can feel you clenching and throbbing around him so he knows you’re getting closer to your high, and despite not feeling direct pleasure from you grinding your hips into him, the sight of you getting yourself off with his hand wrapped around your throat and you rutting against him could make him cum any second. You’re so fucking hot, it takes everything he has not to flip you over and fuck you until he’d be certain you couldn’t walk tomorrow.

Despite loving your pornographic cries, Alex moves his hand from around your neck and he traces your lips with his thumb before demanding, “Suck it, sweet.”

You do as you’re told, parting your lips and dipping your head so you take his thumb into your mouth and you suck on it. He presses down on your tongue enough to have your moans muted and he smirks when he teases, “Gotta keep that mouth of yours occupied so you don’t wake the neighbours.”

In another moment, you probably would have wanted to curl up into a ball and die at the thought of anyone but him hearing you and you probably would have scorned him for making you paranoid about it. But before your brain could even get there, the singer fucks up into you causing you to release long pleasure filled whines.

It goes on for another minute, and Alex knows you’re getting close, he can feel it and he can see the way the ecstasy inducing actions have you looking almost drunk. He’s going to make you cum a third time, and he’s very aware of it.

“You close?” He asks, not even needing a response because he knows you are.

Despite that, you nod confirming it for him, and he knows your answer before he even asks, “Need me to fuck you hard again, sweet?”

You whine and pull away from his thumb to say, “Please.”

“I got you, Y/N/N.” Alex promises as he lets his thumb trace your swollen lips before he drops his hand so his thumb can tease your clit.

“Shit Alex.” You gasp, needing that direct stimulation even more and it has you trying to bounce on his cock again.

You’re whiny and begging with everything you have other than your voice but you can’t stop, you’re so close, you just need that little bit more. You grab his wrist so he has to continue but your legs fail you miserably. You look to the man below you, those lust filled brown eyes meeting yours and you barely even have a chance to get out, “Al, please.” before he’s on the case.

In a swift movement, he rolls the both of you over, so your back is on the bed and he’s hovering above you. He quickly kisses you, just a quick intense one before pulling away, biting your lip as he does, and he asks, “You gunna cum on my cock, sweet?”

Nodding, you beg, “Please.”

Your nails are already digging into his shoulder blades and he feels them scratch down his back when he starts fucking into you with no remorse. His hips hit yours over and over and it makes pleasure burn through you. It’s constant, steady, endless and you only stay grounded when your fingers root through his hair and grasp it tightly when he kisses your neck.

His lips stay there, barely breaking contact from your skin even when he continues to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing for him. But you lose your mind when he trails his hand down to your thigh and grabs it and pushes it higher, so he can fuck you deeper. It makes your world stop.

You don’t know what words fall from your lips as your orgasm finally hits you. All you know is that you’re loud and your body feels like it’s been electrified. White heat shoots through you and your nails scratch their way down his back and your other hand pulls harshly on his hair.

Alex is certain he’ll never forget the moment he made you cum for the third time. The way you scream his name, clench around him, and your nails dig into his skin is something he’ll remember forever. He’s obsessed with the way you lose yourself entirely, and after fucking into you a few more times he finishes himself and it’s the sweetest relief Alex thinks he’s maybe ever experienced.

The singer lifts his head, and you see that he looks all fucked out above you, and you’re certain you look the same. Alex can’t help but think you look so fucking stunning, all distant and dizzy and he will certainly take pride that he is the reason you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure. He’s so glad you agreed he could take you home.

Oh, what a night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

A/N: Well then... Really hope you enjoyed part 2! Let me know what you fancy seeing happen in part 3, I have ideas but I'm curious where you all reading want it to go! Please let me know what you thought of this part, and I will get on with writing part 3 for you. Whilst you wait, please check out another AMAZING Alex fic called Constant Repeat by @alovesreading you’ll love it I have no doubt! And thank you again for reading x

Taglist: @alovesreading @kennedy-brooke @red---moon @ladydraculasthings @mrsschw4rtz @quicksilvers3000 @indierockgirrl @heartachenurse @bellaturner @am-monkey @alexturnersmommy @anxiousbeech @cassettecarter @malina-33 @yourorganiccigarette @clownrrai @harleyql @jeonxjinxed @andrews-lovr @justacaliforniandreamer @missbabyjay @hdebay @mirrorbvii​ @olliemybeloved777 @kaybee87​ @simpfortoomanymen​ @inmyownfantasywrld​ @ohladymoon​ @findmeincorneliastreet​ @faveficz​ @parkerizzy​ @thereisaplaceintheheart​ @hazskillerqueen​ @bai-wuxiangs-mask​

 Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

[elfboyeros]

Things in TDP that surprised me but I'm not mad about

The title is a bit misleading because I could never be mad at The Dragon Prince but I'm specifically talking about season 6 because I think Aaron, Justin, and everyone that worked on this show infused this season with drugs because this is so fire they fucking cooked with this one.

Soucering: most of the gifs used in this post are from this post  by celestialowlryx unless stated otherwise! (I am not in the business of stealing people's shit)

SPOILERS AHEAD

The Blood on the Beach!

There was a lot of blood on that beach like the blood that you could tell was blood on that beach in the first episode, and I know this show doesn't shadow away from death but THAT'S A LOT OF FUCKING BLOOD IN THE SAND! Not to mention, CLAUDE IS COVER IN BLOOD! Plus the whole Claude amputated her own leg, and her fucking voice actor during that scene, oof my heart!

The Bathing Scene

I'm very surprised that this was allowed dispute knowing nothing about TV rating (I mean obviously it was allowed it's in the fucking show!) But that scene is silence, besides a backing track, and you have a Terry bathing Claude in the ocean! That scene is so fucking intimate, especially for what is supposed to be a children's show and it makes me go insane!

Rayla and Callum's Bed Sharing Scene

Yionked from this post by rayllurn 

I'm looking at this in part from the eyes of a parent dispute not being a parent and just being a 23-year-old fucker that watches children's cartoons they have a weird obsession with, But this is another scene I'm a little surprised was allowed. Although I love that it was allowed! I can see from the eyes of a parent this scene be too "raunchy" because "What happens when two be people share a bed... sex!" but Fuck you this scene was great!

Viren and His Wife's Backstory

Yoinked picture from this post by Kilfeur

Okay fucking attack me in the internet town square if I'm wrong, but Viren described abuse... right!? Like that was Spousal Abuse right!? Because if it wasn't it was so fucking close! And where the scene wasn't animated in the traditional sense respective to The Dragon Prince, that whole sequence is insane!

All the Kissing Scenes

Damn, there was a shit ton of PDA this season, Specially thinking about the one scene with Rayla and Callum on top of the Starscraper, THINGS ARE GETTING FUCKING INIMATE FOR KIDS SHOW! I fucking love it! I love when we can do Romance like this so no complaining here there was just a lot, or many in the scope of the series as a whole this seems like a lot, I don't know, but regardless a win for romantics everywhere!

Viren's Sacrifice*

Yoinked from this post by madou-dilou

This one is more of an honorable mention, was it surprising, fuck yeah, but it didn't surprise me in the way everything else did. I did think Soren was going to be murdered for a hot second, which was shocking but fuck this scene had been balling like a God damn baby!

Janai and Amaya's Wedding*

Another Honorable mention because it's not shocking that it happened The Dragon Prince has not strayed from representation and the longer it continues the more representation we seem to get, although queer representation is still always shocking to get especially in children's cartoons, so it's going on this list for all the creators that have wanted to give us queer rep but couldn't and to those that have paved the way for us to get here!

Allen

Couldn't find a picture of Allen lol

Okay, you may not get this if you haven't read the graphic novel Through the Moon but Allen is a minor character way back from season one that Lujanne couples up with and I was surprised to see especially because the day before the season came out. I had read the graphic novel and cackled at his presence! So I freaked the fuck out when he was just there, at the moon nexus!

Rayla and Her Parents*

I'm adding this because it was another scene that had me balling (I think mostly because I have a good relationship with my parents and I couldn't imagine losing them) Knowing Rayla's character it wasn't surprising but I respect everyone who made that scene possible because, brother, that's emotional!

Finally Leola

*sigh* Leola's existence in general is a shock, and to me changes Aaravos completely! That purple motherfucker created the Sea of the Castout with his own tears, then got imprisoned in a pearl in a calm in his daughter's bones in the same sea he made with his own tears of grief! In addition, THEY FUCKING ANIMATED CHILD DEATH! THE ANIMATORS ANIMATED A CHILD DYING ON SCREEN! I don't give a fuck if there wasn't blood, THERE WAS CHILD DEATH ON SCREEN IN A CHILDREN'S SHOW! HOW HEAVY METAL IS THAT?!

Honorable of the honorable mentions: Big Aarvaos

Fuck he's huge.

Alright, I'm done.

[osakanone]

"How realistic are mecha, really?": They aren't, but not for the reason you're thinking of or the one adjacent to it. Trust me.

Crossposted from reddit, since people seemed to like it. Like in the thread, I am very happy to answer questions about any esoteric weirdness.

Hold my beer. Again

They're not becoming a possibility. Yes. I know. This sucks. But stick around. Its not for the reasons you think. Well it is, but it also isn't. You'll see.

The robot needs the technology more than the technology needs a robot.

the technologies which the robot needs will improve and alter the doctrine of every other platform

This creates a doctrinal lock-in where the potential functional space for them to exist is unmet -- that they are so far ahead, that nothing new can emerge that isn't just other platforms becoming more generalized (eg, a post-stall recovery aircraft, or a helicopter with high impact landing-gear and a rigid rotor/jet engine design to act as a surface-fighter -- a tank which walks or manoeuvres like a robot is just flat out of the question: Tanks are made to be simple-as-fuck boxes which tank hits, and shoot and acquire asap and rumours of their deaths as a doctrinal weapon are exaggerated by recent events where obsolete weapons which aren't maintained properly who's crews aren't adequately trained were fighting very clever civilians with drones)

What you consider "realistic" (5th/6th) is just as if not more unrealistic than other gens purely because of their smaller size and very bizarre relationship with the environment -- they're just both too big, and too small to make sense, sitting in a size niche which is just very weird

If such a vehicle does exist, its going to be defined by its functions rather than a humanoid appearance

we know this because specialized platforms tend to beat specialized platforms historically until specialized platforms mature and become generalized

thus, the closest you're probably going to get is some weird variation of DARPA's Ground X Vehicle Project meeting with Gravity Industry' style mobility in limited cases, hybridized with smaller robots and wingsuits, which mix manoeuvring operation styles, with some rocker-boogie mechanism elements for terrain handling: It won't be humanoid, whatever it is.

This is assuming you can magically solve the square-cube law of volume-mass which is partially negatable with certain custom topologies exceeding graphene but actually manufacturing them would be miserable work probably not even be something you can make without microgravity

Energy flat out isn't solvable with what we know about right now. Nothing with that energy density can exist that isn't going to simultaneously make for an incredible fragile, dangerous and problematic source of power given the forces involved. Cooling is also a horrifyingly unsolvable problem on this scale, as is radiation management: You can't just dump molten tungsten in emergency cooling mode - you'll not only proceed to alert everybody who has even the vaguest IRST capacity to your position, but you'll also probably set fire to the environment and cook off your own ammunition. *

Motors aren't well suited to the tasks of such bodies (its like trying to make a slingshot out of dental floss), and we don't have an effective way to turn electricity into a form of motion which corresponds with the shock absorbing and motion control qualities which are actually desirable yet

Even if we did, the actual means of ensuring it doesn't fragment every time it moves don't exist. Every time an A10C fires its main gun, the fuel lines micro-fracture and have to be replaced after it lands. Metal, when you subject it to high physical forces ends up feeling and behaving closer to how you would think of glass. You'd need a material capable of repairing itself too, atop the quasicrystalline property which again, just isn't doable, let alone simultaneously.

So in terms of our mindset going into this?

Its... Probably not happening barring a very, VERY extreme change to how we understand physics to function, or some really kick ass (and actually entirely possible) changes in how engineering achieves outcomes (which could happen if the greatest threat to the mecha didn't exist)

Combat is moving towards information dominance. 

That's drone swarms, and role modularized long range travel, and the idea of fighter beyond-visual-range combat extending out to infared search and track systems which are networked to one another, which we're already seeing in singleton weapons and their mounting strategies even on the personal scale, which DARPA is currently investigating which everybody wants to mate with the gravity industries gear for boarding ops so the most likely avenue is to scale up from people, rather than scale down from vehicles as the development pathway -- but there's probably going to be multiple pathways with competing niches once the technology becomes cheap enough.

Costing

Ultimately its down to "how much money do I have to spend to defeat something more expensive than myself?" -- because our current structure of war is defined by cost, and by making the other guys surrender by using economic, and military violence (private, and publicly funded) instead of convincing them that we (NATO members, etc) have good opinions purely because of the natural benefits of "doing as we say" (which we see with basically any conflict in the last 70 years, which are usually feigned as ideological but pretty much always about disrupting market competition, dominating markets, or controlling a pressure position in another country to achieve those two things).

This isn't because they're particularly excellent weapons, but because they're cheap relative to the strength they offer, and how we define cheap is very different to how we defined cheap 100 years ago -- both in good, and terrible ways (such is the way of history).

Mecha are kinda the ultimate boondoggle. They are very very expensive, and just don't make sense.

They're cool as hell, yes.

But they don't make sense.

DISCLAIMER: If you're prone to depression, are dealing with a lot right now, or don't want your day ruining, you should stop reading NOW. What comes next is a psychosocial hazard and could be very bad for your mental health. LAST CHANCE . . .

The "real" reasons

If conflict some how became a meritocracy of leading by excellence rather than intimidation, and about human outcomes instead of cost outcomes, then things could change, but we don't live in that world.

Remember, violence exists to end human conflict (not to be confused with military conflict, which violence is the primary instrument of): Human conflict is when two parties oppose one another and communicate about what their goals and intentions are. Violence happens when communication stops. Communication stops, because parties cannot come to terms, or because nobody wants to be reasonable because the inherent request is unreasonable to the interests of the other party.

I'd love to say physics is the greatest threat, or maybe our concept of conflict but its not: * Its economics.

The concept of private-equity (not to be confused with venture-capital investment) is kiiiind of the dominant economic system on the face of the planet which dictates the interest of every nuclear power's actions against every non-nuclear power) is functionally dissolved, and investment models as we know them magically become better regulated OR a better economic system comes along which totally undermines private equity.

Its an economic finger-trap where most of the money that would be reinvested into people and technologies to push the world forward ends up getting swallowed up.

It also has private armies) and simulates the economy and political events in order to control them for maximum profitability. Yeah.)

We already live in Armored Core, folks.

And that economic system knows that if it gave free agents like ravens any kind of military power, it would functionally undermine itself, which is why it will never happen.

Private equity benefits from not having technology change, because its primary goal is wealth extraction. It leads to the collapse of every business you've ever seen go under, its why products undergo enshittification, which is coming for everything.

Its why the housing crisis happened, why the banking collapse happened, and its why there's an incentive to continue industrializing diseases like insulin instead of curing them.

tl;dr:

The one thing AC gets super wrong is you can either have the depressing relatable low-saturation late-stage hyper-capitalist dystopia where life is cheap on planet earth and everything terrible about South Korea times a thousand covers the whole world, and you need to have your own organs brought from you and leased back to you to lock you in to a lifetime of debt the same way everything else works...

OR

you can have the robot;

You can't have both.

e: I'd pick the robot any day

--

Apologies for any inaccuracies, I haven't edited this and I threw the original together in the space of around 40 minutes. Questions very welcome: I enjoy giving long detailed and substantiated answers.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reading my other work on the theoretical design factors of mecha, their control systems, and my fictional writing in mechposting.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 7-In a League of their Own (SUB)

Damian sat in his apartment trying to empty his mind. His girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was the most amazing person he ever met. He was still shocked she agreed to date him. Today was one of those days when he thought he was just holding her back from greatness.

'Marinette deserves better than me. She's smart, tactical, and crafty. You would think Mother or Father trained her.'

'Not only is she smart, but she can cook and bake. I'm still learning. I'm sure there's day she wishes she could have a home cooked meal. I can only take her out to resturants or make her breakfast. She makes the most amazing dinners! Everything she makes tastes delicious. Anyone would be lucky to eat her food everyday.'

'She's an amazing business woman. Marinette is practically running her own company and I don't even have full control of Wayne Enterprise! She isn't afraid to tell people off. Mother would have loved her commanding presence. Everyone, including Father, is scared of me.'

'Maybe I should break up with her.'

Damian's thoughts were broken when he doorbell went of continuously.

'Who could that be? Must be Grayson.'

Damian opened the door to see his girlfriend standing there in tears.

'What the fuck?'

Marinette lunged into his arms.

"Who-" he began to demand.

"It's been a really bad day." Marinette cried into his arms, "Can I just stay with you? I always feel better when I'm with you."

Damian took a deep breath and pushed his anger down, for another time.

"Of course." he spoke.

Damian picked her up and set her down on the couch. As she wiped her tears away, he began to take off her shoes and her coat. He went into the kitchen and grabbed her a glass of water to rehydrate and ordered some of her favorite take out, along with her favorite ice cream.

"So, what happened?" he questioned, handing her the water.

Marinette had went on to explain how there had been mix up with a few orders. A person she had fired had put in the orders and when they hadn't come in on time, she called the company only to find out that person had cancelled the orders. Once she told them that person had been fired months ago, they quickly put in motion to send the fabric and other items needed. Unfortunately for her, one of the clients pulled out of her services because of that claiming she was incompetent at her job. That had only been the morning. She had worked through her lunch to tackle anything her ex-employee had touched and caleld companies to ensure that the previous person didn't dictate her orders and informed them of any changes or wrong-doings the person had done. After that, she had to get her lawyers involved as the person was order fabrics under her name and Marinette had never received them. With all the invoices from the companies, her lawyer was sure it would be a clean sweep.

A knock at the door drew their attention away from each other.

"I'll get it." Damian offered.

When he checked the peep hole, he saw the delivery driver holding up the bag of food. He unlocked the door and took the bag. When he turned around, he could see she was surprised to see him holding up food. Marinette just looked at him with tears in her eyes and smiled. Damian quickly set the food down and rushed to her side.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Marinette kissed him, leaving him stunned.

"You are the most amazing boyfriend ever." Mari declared, "I'm sure anyone else would be jealous to know my boyfriend is in a league all of his own."

Damian kissed her back, "You may think so, but you Angel are in a league above me."

Marinette cuddled into his arms.

'We can eat the food he got in a few moments.'

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[x-candy-guts-x]

Yautja x reader

Part two

Woooo another one baby

Again I suck ass at writing so this is gonna be yet another bucket of paint thrown at a wall and just hope to god it comes out coherent

OK ANYWAY

• you were originally abducted by another alien race. It started out just living your life going to work and coming home rinse, wash and repeat. But you started getting weird little signs that something wasn’t normal. Weird feelings in your head that turned into dizziness that lead to a particularly aggressive fainting spell in your own home.

• you woke up in a metal room. At first you were scared you had been drugged and kidnapped- not far from the truth but you thought it had at worst been traffickers not whatever the hell that thing was staring at you through the glass like door. It was slender small and gray with big eyes.

•you found out that they weren’t actually hostile and just wanted some info on you and some dna. They said they would bring you back home once they were done. But the universe had other plans. The ship was attacked and you among a few of the crew were taken hostage and thrown into cages. You had collars fashioned around your necks and were treated like pets. Or product.

•the ship landed on a strange planet with two suns. It felt arid but off behind the ship was a massive rainforest like place. And in front in a small distance was a city.

•taken into the city you were all being sold off. You tried to fight against the chain and you even bit the giant armored lizard fuck who dared to grab your chin to get a closer look. The kinder aliens who took you to begin with had give you a translator behind your ear. You were able to figure some things out. Like their species; the yautja and the planet.

•you were the last one who had yet to be sold. One yautja in particular came up and asked about you. He was about 7ft, leaner and had darker tones in his scales. Mostly muddied grays and black. The seller went and took off the chain. You still had the collar like mechanism however. As soon as he did you ran. You dodged between people and headed to the forest. They had tried to chase you down and even activated the collars shocking abilities but you kept going. Even after blood ran down your torso from the electric prongs digging into you.

It had been about a day and a half before you made it to an area that looked like a small calm village. There were some homes in the trees and some on the clearing. A cool river that ran maybe a hundred meters or so off to the side. And just up the hill past that river was a small cave. You didn’t know if these people were kind or trust worthy so you didn’t approach. Instead opting to stay in the cave. You fashioned yourself a blade with a very sharp obsidian like black stone, some wood for the handle and a vine to keep it together.

•it did okay. You were able to get small things down on the ground and even found a potato like root you could cook up and eat. The fires you made to cook needed to be small though. You didn’t want to alert anyone that you were there. Although you had a suspicion that they already knew.

•you took up wood carving to pass the time, making animals from your home planet. You went down to the river once and forgot your carving of a deer. When you went to retrieve it, a little yautja had already gotten to it and was inspecting it. It made a rapid little clicky noise and ran back to the village with what looked like excitement. Scared you ran back to your cave.

•unbeknownst to you there was a popular fairytale in the village. They told stories of humans to scare the little ones into behaving at night. And when the little one found the deer carving it certainly made the stories seem more vibrant. The kids made rumors about a big bad scary ooman in the forest. You- would sometimes sit behind rocks/trees and carve away while listening to them.

•they had concluded that the creature was a deer thanks to their parents. Buuut their imaginations went wild. Deer were now giant carnivores who impaled victims on their antlers and wore the corpses like rotting trophies. You giggled at that one. But suddenly everything went silent. Peeking between the two large stones that concealed you the oldest of the young ones was pointing in your direction. You abandoned your carving and very quickly but still quietly headed back to your cave.

•the found your carving. This time it was a fruit bat. Fruit bats can get pretty big on earth. Some with wing spans up to five feet! But they were so cute. They loved fruit and looked like puppies in your eyes. But the kids had once again made wild tales. Tales of giant fire breathing monsters. “Huh..” you sort of muttered under your breath. That one is actually pretty close to home. Not literally but it made you think about the tales of dragons on earth and how maybeeee that’s partially how they got started.

•you started leaving carvings more often. It made you happy to see them play with them and come up with fantastical tales. You would hide and carve and listen as they played. What you didn’t know was high up in the trees above you, was a certain masked individual watching your every move.

•your collar had been outfitted with a tracker. And it was just chance that you went right to the village the one who sought to buy you lived at. When you made it to the tree line they decided to not bother with the chasing. He paid and decided to hunt you. Maybe not kill you but he enjoyed the idea of toying with you. But once he saw you carving he stepped back. He watched. And he watched the children. He watched longer than he intended too.

•a month of this went by. The children now had maybe ten of your little carvings. All of different animals. Deer, bats, dogs, cats, horses, rams, weasels, giraffes, and all sorts. You were currently carving a T-Rex. You were in your cave carving it due to the heavy rain. Wondering where you should leave it for them to find you settled on the same place as the last two, perched on a big roundish but flat stone that was right on shore and in the middle of plain site. You figured you’d just leave it there again. When you placed it on the stone off to your left you heard a little shreek. The Rain was no more than a fine mist but rhe river water was sweeping away the little one. It wasn’t too strong but the rain didn’t help when it made the river just a bit deeper. You ran after the little one and dove in.

•Bringing the small but heavy child back to shore you sat him down. He was fine but startled. Wether it was from the river or you- the mysterious human in the hill everyone jokes about was anyones guess. When he just continued to ogle at you in silence you sighed. Being back and next to the stone you left the dinosaur on you picked it up and handed it to him. Then, hearing a noise in the tree line- you assumed it was his parents and bolted up the hill back to your cave.

•a couple days later you were awoken to some noises outside the cave. Afraid you grabbed your knife and jumped out. The poor little yautja that caused the commotion stumbled back and landed on his butt. Dropping the knife you squatted down to help him. He reached his chubby little hands out. In them was a little basket of fruit :)

•you were tired. So tired. Turns out whatever that fruit was made you extremely sleepy. So, after the little yautja left and the fruit was eaten you decided to take a nap. When you woke up it was dark. You felt around and concluded you were in a pile of furs. Wait- why was it so comfortable? The things you got to make your bed had been crude and hard, soft enough to sleep but not comfort. This was soft and plush. Sitting up quickly you realized you weren’t in your cave anymore.

Looking out the window, you were in the village. Oh boy.

Should I continue this? Is it baD

Please tell me how I could improve this I haven’t written anything since I was like 14 and making fuckin edgy ass creepypasta x reader fanfics on quiz quotev lmAO

[takeachillpillshawty]

Very specific TWST head cannons

Jack was accidentally given alcohol by a third year at a party because they thought he was also a third year.

Ruggie would make bets with students if they can guess Jack's age correctly.

Malleus would stay back at after the final class of the day just to sing, he likes the sound of the empty class room. He stopped doing that because a rumor about a "haunted class" was spreading.

Sebek yelled so hard one time, he couldn't talk the next day due to the pain.

Vil watches those self care videos, as in the earwax removal, black head removal, technically any of those gross removal videos. It's a guilty pleasure of his.

Cater is a hot cheeto girl, he and Idia would make ramen and put hot cheetos in it.

Silver is a heavy sleeper...like heavy sleeper. One time a fire broke out in Diasomnia and everyone was screaming. Only after the fire was out did he wake up.

Malleus used to talk to stuff animals as a kid.

Sebek monologues to himself, and everyone can hear him.

Sebek when he was a kid chased another child with a broken ruler for saying Malleus' name in vain.

Riddle and Jamil have this weird friendship, basically it's just them trying to relax but remembering there are idiots who are in the dorms and can't rest until they get things done.

Each dorm has their own WiFi router, Idia usually hacks into the others in case Ignihyde's one is down or he just want to see people's search history.... Let's just say he's not comfortable around certain classmates.

Idia permanently puts Ortho on child lock so people won't ask him to look up not so friendly things on the internet.

Ortho can get sick from viruses or corrupted data he accidentally downloaded.

Jade and Rook have a passive aggressive rivalry. Like imagine them in the botanical garden having lunch and Jade handed him a poison mushroom infused tea and Rook just 'accidentally' pours it in a plant watching it wither. While looking Jade dead in the eyes, both have smiles on there faces, as they passive aggressively try to kill each other.

Cater x Jade or Rook would be so fucking funny. Like imagine dating the most dangerous students in the school but hey at least the dick is crazy.

Trey has a collection of his baby teeth and his siblings baby teeth on his night stand. No-one brings it up...ever.

another reason why Cater doesn't eat sweets is because he'll get a tooth ache just eating a smore.

A student once asked Crewel if it was possible to make 'crack' in potionology..... Crewel wasn't getting paid enough for this.

Crowley has committed tax evasion.

Azul Is thicc. I said what I said, and don't boo me. I'm right.

Ruggie is banned from Monstro Lounge due to finding loop holes in Azul's contracts and getting free stuff.

Malleus hates cake with too much frosting, It defeats the purpose of the cake.

Malleus would use fae circles to teleport prefect to him.

Floyd likes to just bite things, especially his phone case.

Rook takes the best photos.

Sometimes people forget that Vil is an actor and model, so when seeing him in a movie, commercial or magazine they just get jump scared and remembered .

" oh yeah....Housewarden Vil is a celebrity.."

I think prefect is desensitized to meeting famous or high status people that they're not a big deal to them. Imagine Prefect going to a cafe and THE KALIM AL ASIM Is paying for their drink, everyone is shocked that someone who's richer than royalty is paying for you and all you say is " Oh thanks Kalim. "

I feel like up to book 6 every dorm leader helped out in repairing Ramshackle adding there own piece of their dorms in there. A gaming room from Idia, A luxurious bathroom with skin care supplies and designer clothes from Vil, pantry and groceries from Heartslaybul and Scarabia and a cook book from Trey and Jamil respectively. An indoor and outdoor pool from Savannah claw, wallpaper and decor from Azul, and finally furniture and jewelry from Malleus.

[avocado-writing]

notes: i did this instead of anything in my inbox. sorry but it overtook me and became much longer than I thought. also I wrote raphael as the little sub he is teehee.

relationships: raphael x reader; enver gortash & reader (platonic, parent & child); eventual enver gortash x tav

words: 4k

rating: E

summary: a warlock of Raphael's, you visit the House of Hope one day and find a child. he cannot remain there.

Your life, really, is fine. Maybe a bit empty. But fine.

You’ve had Raphael as your Warlock patron for a while now. It’s fine too, he’s fine, there are definitely worse devils to be indebted to - the fact he’s attractive isn’t so bad either. You started fucking a few years ago and he’s basically wrapped around your little finger at this point. He’s still annoying as all hells but he bottoms well enough and the two of you enjoy being on each other’s good side, so it works out. Mostly what he has you do is track down and kill people who’ve pissed him off - and a lot of people have pissed him off, he’s very piss off-able to be fair, so there’s always plenty of jobs and you come to the House of Hope often, in between the mercenary work you do to survive.

This time you just finished hunting down someone who tried to weasel out of their contract. Raphael had you bring him the man’s head as proof of your work, and then you made him give you head after. Par for the course nowadays.

You peel yourself out of Raphael’s embrace as he bathes in the afterglow of getting spoiled in bed by you. You throw on your pants, and go to grab a bite to eat. Your patron always has a feast ready. It’s something to keep his servants distracted with, the constant cooking and replacing of dishes, and it’s nice to never be hungry when you’re here. You saunter into the banquet room and go to pick up a fistful of grapes…

… pausing when you see something utterly fucking shocking.

A little boy. Making himself as small as possible, dark messy hair and darker sunken eyes, all curled up by the fire. He looks at you with terror and you yelp in surprise, grabbing a spare tablecloth to quickly cover yourself with.

“What the fuck?!” you manage, looking around for answers to the unasked question. Nobody is here to give you any. Fucking lost souls, never here when you need them. You turn back to the boy who looks utterly terrified. “Are you meant to be here?”

He visibly swallows, nervous, and nods. Okay, right, great. Kid in the middle of hell. Of course. You're about to find Raphael and give him a grilling, when you hear a little stomach rumble.

You freeze, raise an eyebrow. Almost impossibly he shrinks further into himself.

“Have you eaten, kiddo?”

He shakes his head, unable to meet your eyes. Oh, well, that won’t do.

You grab a plate and begin to load it up with food for him. He looks hopeful though he tries not to show it too much, as if you’ll punish him for the very idea of it. Gods it must have been torture for the child, sitting in front of a banquet with no invitation to gorge. 

When the plate is so full that it threatens to spill over, you squat down and put it in front of him. The boy stares at it for a long moment before looking up at you.

“Go on. Dig in.”

It’s all the permission he needs. He tears into the food you’ve presented as if he’s never eaten before. As if it is ambrosia. You watch him wolf down chicken thighs so fast that he threatens to choke on them, and you feel your heart ache at the wretched sight.

“This really isn’t a place for kids. What’s your name, lad?” you ask, absent-mindedly swiping some greasy hair out of his eyes. You wonder when was the last time he washed, poor kid. He flinches at your touch a little but doesn’t stop eating, somewhat aware you’re probably the first person he’s met here who doesn’t mean him harm. 

“Enver,” he says through mouthfuls of bread. You tell him your name in return, though you aren’t sure if he really listens.

“I didn’t say he could eat.”

Raphael’s voice cuts through the moment, severe, and the boy freezes mid-bite. Terror floods him. He begins to visibly shake.

Oh, no. No. You won’t be having that.

You speak aloud, voice firm.

“Well, I said he could. Ignore him, kiddo.” 

You stand and put yourself between your patron and the child. This little boy has no idea who you are, but he can sense that you have some sort of power over the demon who’s walked into the room. Timidly he continues his meal. When you’re satisfied you turn to your devil, thunderous.

“Raphael? A word.”

Your tone leaves no wiggle room. He harrumphs and follows you far out of the boy’s earshot, where you unleash your fury. 

“Why is there a fucking child here, Raphael?!” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, his parents sold him to me. Well, to one of my other warlocks, actually, so through the upline he’s mine.”

He speaks as if reading from the paper, not discussing a child’s life. Your blood boils. You want to slap him, but he’d just enjoy it.

“This is no place for… well, fucking anyone, let alone a literal kid. What were you thinking?!”

He shrugs. For a devil meant to be full of cunning, Raphael rarely actually thinks through his short-term impulses into long-term plans. 

“Torture him, I suppose.”

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you say, hand instinctively summoning your blade. Raphael narrows his eyes. 

“Be careful when you reach for your sword, warlock, lest you forget the person who gifted it to you.”

Fuck. Shit. What an arseache. Okay, you can’t go about this by violence, he’s right. You need to be cunning. You let yourself soften and approach him, laying your hands on his chest. He raises an eyebrow but allows you to caress him. 

“Raphael, come on. You really want a child hanging around here? He’s going to ruin all our fun. I was going to have you on the banquet table later. You don’t want me to ride you while feeding you slices of apple? You enjoyed it last time…”

Your devil huffs but softens under your touch. Gods he really is easy to manipulate when you know which buttons to press. 

“You’re really up in arms about him, aren’t you? Look, they gave him away for a reason. He’s not some sweet innocent. He’s a little bastard, as far as I’ve been told.”

“Please don’t do anything too harsh to him? For me? For your favourite warlock?” you ask, pouting, sliding down Raphael’s body to your knees, ready to nuzzle into his cock in exchange for his agreement. 

He sags, weak for you. Got him.

“Ugh. Fine, you win, kitten. Spoilsport,” he mutters, and you slip him out of his underwear.

The next time you see Enver, it’s been a couple of weeks. You’ve just finished up a hunt and are reporting in - but he’s the first thing you check on. You find him sweeping one of the hallways, eyeing a wailing lost soul warily. 

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

He jumps a little, however he looks genuinely pleased to see you. Not enough for him to smile but at least some of the tension leaves him. 

“I’m alright,” he says quietly. He still looks sort of greasy. You’ll have to tell Raphael to let him bathe. 

“The boss been treating you okay?”

Enver nods. 

“Doesn’t really talk to me. Just tells me to do chores.”

Well that’s better than torture, you think. You reach into your pocket, root around for a bit, and hand something to him. His eyes go wide and then narrow in suspicion, and you have to reassure him that it’s not some sort of trick.

“Do you know what that is?”

“A sending stone,” he says, confidently, weighing the blue rock in his hand. You grin.

“Look at you! Clever kid. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. So I take it you know how they work?”

“Each holder can send a message of twenty-five words a day, and the other can reply with twenty-five. Total of fifty each.”

“Precisely! I’m giving this to you for if there’s an emergency, okay? If you’re in trouble, I want you to give me a message and I’ll get here as quickly as I can.”

He eyes the stone. It’s as if he can’t quite bring himself to believe that someone genuinely cares about his wellbeing.

“Why?” he asks, after a while. 

“Because you shouldn’t be down here, and Raphael can be an arsehole. But don’t worry, I can sort him out,” you say with a grin, and for the first time, Enver chuckles. You hear the sound of Raphael calling your name from down the corridor and you roll your eyes.

“Speak of the devil. Take care, Enver, alright? And remember, let me know if there’s a problem.”

He nods, tucking the stone into his pocket before you head off to tie your patron up.

You don’t hear from Enver for a week or so, but one day, when you’re on the road, you get a message coming through.

“Hello. It’s Enver. Are you having a good day?”

You look confused and reply, “Yeah, kiddo, I’m fine. Is there something the matter? Nobody’s hurting you, are they?”

Then, because it is the nature of the stone, you add: “If they are then you just say, I’ll come and set them straight.”

There’s a beat. You can imagine Enver considering his response.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to say hello.”

That’s as much communication as the day will allow but it hits you hard. Oh. He’s lonely.

And from that day on, you have a sort of penpal.

Enver messages you everyday without fail, always excited to see how you’ve been doing. He has very little to report, which you’re thankful for, because you live in fear that he will need to use the stone for its intended purpose. Occasionally he lets you know that Raphael has said something cruel or Haarlep is teasing him, and then it’s just a matter of heading to the hells and setting them straight. Haarlep is like a cat, difficult to make to do anything, but to be honest he’s your friend and will usually acquiesce after some teasing. Raphael is always a bit more difficult to persuade. He still sees the boy as his property, his thing to treat as he’d like, so you have to pull out all of your best tricks in order to convince him.

You always end up coming out on top, though. Funny that.

Your visits to the House of Hope get more regular. Enver greets you with smiles and then with laughs and then with hugs, and you find you’re growing fond of the kid. Every now and then you see a bit of the little bastard Raphael warned you of - you’ll catch him tormenting one of the damned souls down here, or attempting to trap and harass some sort of insect who accidentally crawled through one of the portals. But a soft but firm hand to turn him in the right direction is enough. He’s a boy with a bright future… if he’s nurtured.

And this place has no time for that.

You make the pitch to Raphael one night at the end of a long weekend in hell. You’ve been doing everything he’s asked of you, indulging his every whim, being ever so sweet and obedient for your master - and fucking him within an inch of his life. You relax in his bed, cuddled up to his chest, walking your fingers along the expanse of his pectorals.

“Raphael…” you say, dreamily, and he hums.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to push your luck?” he chuckles. You rearrange yourself to look up at him, eyes wide and wanting.

“Me? Push my luck? Never…” you run your tongue over his nipple and he groans.

“Spit it out then, kitten.”

“It’s the boy, Raphael. Can I have him? Please?”

He huffs.

“Why?”

“Why not? What does he do around here apart from take up space and eat your food? Surely you don’t really want him hanging around, do you? I’d like to be able to ride you and scream your name without the fear we’ll be overheard.”

Raphael considers this for a long time, and for a moment, you think he won’t take the bait.

“You’ll extend your pact with me. I want your soul. Forever,” he decides. 

Ah. That’s quite the price. You consider it for a moment.

“...You never get to interfere with Enver’s life again,” you reply, because this is how you deal with devils. Your bargain to gain their respect. He laughs.

“Fine. The boy is off the hook.”

“Done. And I get to take him out of here and do what I want with him, no questions asked. He’s free. And I’ll do that thing you like, right now.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Deal.”

The next morning, body aching, you read through your new contract. You make some amendments in blood but sign it. The rest of your existence signed over to this damned devil. Raphael kisses you on the lips, long and languid - and when you walk out of the House of Hope it’s with Enver’s hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” he asks, quietly. He’s scared. You squeeze his fingers in reassurance.

“Well, I’m on the road a lot. We’ll be travelling. Is that okay with you, kiddo?”

He nods, excited, and you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since you first met. He’s more than a head taller - gods, how long has he been down here? It’s not worth thinking about. He’s still pretty skinny, but you’ll fix that. Now you’re in charge of feeding him, you'll make sure he gets a good meal every night. Make sure he walks with his back straight and chin up.

Make sure he never has to feel small again.

It isn’t a perfect life, but it’s a damn sight better than what he had to put up with in the Hells. He smiles now, every day. Isn’t scared of people. Slowly grows confidence in himself because he knows that you’re in his corner, come hell or high water (literally). One day you see him drawing in a little notebook you got him, some sort of diagram far more complicated than you can understand - he explains the intricacies of the machine, so you get him some spare parts to start tinkering with. Gods the kid is a natural. So intelligent. Far smarter than you, and you’re worried you’re letting him down because you can’t keep up - but every time he shows you a new invention he seems so pleased when you compliment him.

“Look at you, kiddo! You’re amazing! I bet there’s nothing that you can’t do.”

And he looks like for the first time in his life that he believes what you’re saying.

Life isn’t easy, but it is worth living. You’re on the road more often than not. You don’t have a home to call your own, but you make sure your mercenary work is well-paid enough that you can put the two of you up in inns overnight, keep you both fed and entertained. Enver seems happy and that’s what matters.

You go back to the House of Hope as little as you can, now, reporting in when you do a job and fucking Raphael into submission. He asks you about the boy every once in a while and you palm him off with a laugh, acting as if you barely care about Enver rather than the truth: you’ve been actively putting money away towards a fund for his future.

You come back from one of your meetings late one night. You’re exhausted from what your patron has put you through and are looking forward to sleep. The portal opens into the inn you’ve booked for the night. You expect Enver to be dead to the world, but instead he’s wide awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up so late? Is everything okay?” you ask, surprised. Enver fidgets with his fingers.

“Does Raphael hurt you?” he blurts out. You’re shocked.

“What?”

“Do you want to be in a contract with him? Because if you don’t, I promise I’ll find a way to free you, like you freed me! I’ll get strong, really strong, and I’ll kill him for you.” His hands are balled into fists, jaw gritted. His eyes are dark in a way that’s troubling and he drops his gaze to his lap.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where’s all this coming from? Kiddo, nothing is wrong. Everything between me and Raphael is fine. I’m not unhappy or being forced into anything, I promise. What’s the matter, Enver, eh?”

When he looks up at you, there are tears pooling. He launches himself into your arms, holding you so tightly it’s as if you’re his anchor to this plane.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I love you…” and then there it is. He calls you ‘mum’, or ‘dad’, or some other word that settles what you already knew: he’s come to think of you as his parent now. He freezes when he hears himself say it and you think back to when he was that scared little boy, longing for a bit of food by the fireplace.

You hold him back.

“I love you too, son,” you tell him, and the two of you stay like that for a long while.

He asks if his last name can become yours. You introduce him as your child. You are a family. 

You’re right. He’s far smarter than you are, and you can’t keep up with him. It becomes more and more obvious as he gets older. He goes from brilliant teenager to incredible young man, and you’re glad that you have the funds to be able to send him to a good college and nurture his spark. You’re aware that you’re beginning to slow down a bit now. Your joints aren’t quite what they used to be, and though Raphael still covets you, he’s not oblivious to the fact that you’re getting on. His contracts for you become less vigorous. He likes to have you in his bed more than on the field. You don’t mind it, being pampered by your patron. It isn’t a bad life.

Enver doesn’t need to become Gortash. And what use has Bane for this man, this good man, this man who has made something of himself despite all of the odds stacked against him? None whatsoever. He never becomes the chosen of Tyranny. He is safe from the person he might have been.

The day he graduates at the top of his class is the proudest day of your life. You clap and cheer for him until you are hoarse, and he pretends to be embarrassed as you give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek in front of all of his friends, every inch the glowing parent.

He becomes chancellor because of his own merits, not due to any underhanded trickery. He is a master when it comes to machines. He never invents the Steel Watch because he does not have the warped mind to create them. Instead he focuses on technology to help the city of Baldur’s Gate: cleaning machines, security automatons, things which help with the admin of running to place so those in government can focus on supporting Baldurites. 

He buys you a house in the upper city. You settle down there as you grow older, make friends, get plenty of visits from your son. Everyone knows how loved you are. He eventually hires a young woman named Karlach as a bodyguard who you grow fond of: she makes up in brawn what he lacks, and she always puts a smile on your face when you have the two of them around for tea.

The Absolute comes. Raphael is poking around because of course he is. He’s got some new toys by now but you’re still one of his old favourites, and a couple of his most loved tricks with your tongue mostly keep him out of the way. Plus he promised not to interfere in Enver’s life, and he’s bound by that, the tricky bastard.

Some other person is Bane’s chosen, but it is not your Enver. Instead he fights for the side of good against the Dead Three and the mindflayer invasion, an ally to this Tav, the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Through their trials the two of them end up falling in love and it’s all you could ever want for your son. When the city fights against the Elder Brain you pick up your pact weapon for the last time despite his pleas not to: you’re a Warlock, damn it, and you’re going to defend your home until your last breath.

You don’t die, which is a nice bonus.

Enver and Tav help rebuild the city once the invasion has been stopped. Not too long in the future you have grandchildren, and they are the light of your life, always silly and giggling and joyous to hear the remarkable stories from your mercenary years.

You help out where you can but your age is weighing on you. One day, you take a tumble, and suddenly you’re bedbound; Enver and your family are visiting you every day as you get weaker, and you know that your final days can’t be far off.

He sits at your bedside, your hand clamped in his. Ah, a workman’s hand. The hand of a man who is constantly inventing and working and making himself useful. The hand of a good and decent man.

“The little ones go back to school tomorrow,” he says, fondly, “Tav is relieved. They’ve been rushed off their feet during the holidays– so many years since that Absolute business, yet the legislation is still going. They need a break, really.”

“It’s exhausting being a parent, isn’t it?” you ask with a grin, before being interrupted by a rattling cough which you can’t seem to shake. Enver lifts a glass of water to your lips and you drink, thankful. “Eurgh. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I’ll call the doctor again in the morning, see if she can get you any more of that tincture. Or maybe Halsin might have some ideas…”

“Oh, Enver, don’t go through all that fuss for me. Just sit here with me, kiddo.”

When you call him that, he knows he has no choice. You are still his parent, after all. He shifts to make himself more comfortable in his bedside chair, never letting go of your hand.

“I want you to know,” you say, voice soft, “everything has been worth it, Enver. My whole life was made better because you were my son. You’re the thing that I’m most proud of.”

His eyes go wide and glass over with tears, jaw grits.

“I… don’t say things like that, please,” he says, because he’s scared of what will come after.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, kiddo. I’m right here.”

He rests his head on the side of the bed, and you can see his shoulder heave as he cries. You bury your hand in his hair, smiling when it’s still a little greasy, and then you close your eyes.

When you open them again you’re in the House of Hope.

Your body feels lighter than it has in decades. You look down to see the wrinkles and liver spots in your hands are gone. You’re wearing what can generously be called an outfit, though it’s more straps of leather criss-crossed over your body.

“Well, did you have fun? Was your deal worth it in the end?” Raphael asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe, swirling wine around in a glass in his hand, another held out to you. You take it and frown.

“Were you… were you just standing here, waiting for me to bloody die?” you ask. He harrumphs.

“You didn’t answer my question, kitten.”

You take the wine, quaff it, then pull him into a kiss. He moans into your mouth in surprise and rapture.

“Yes,” you answer, honestly, because it was worth it. You’d never have made a different choice, “now, are we going to bed, or are you just going to stand here being smug for the rest of eternity?”

Raphael grins and pulls you to the bedroom.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[sweetiecutie]

141 x Eastern European reader relationships hc’s

Warnings: some cussing, stereotypical behavior, pretty much safe, not meant for russians - just scroll past

A/n: I was heavily inspired by this post by amazing @kivino, absolutely go and check it out!!

Pretty much all of 141 were in Eastern Europe with missions - Ghost and Price were with missions in Ukraine, Soap, Gaz and Price were to russia.

All of them worked with Eastern Europeans, so boys are generally acquainted with Slav traditions and superstitions - not to whistle within a building, for example, or not to pass things through the threshold. But working with Eastern European for a few weeks and having a romantic relationship with one - completely different things.

So here are some headcanons of how Task Force 141 deals with their Slavic lover<3

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Starting off - Simon loves your culture. He finds many national quirks amusing; his favorite one tho, is how boisterous and bossy Eastern European women are. Usually people tend to be scared of him due to his intimidating stance and quiet behavior. But these ladies who are barely over 160 cm? They can beat the living shit out of him with a single slipper, and he both respects and slightly fears them for it.

For some strange reason Ghost can’t learn a word you teach him, but all the swearings that accidentally slip off your tongue throughout the day? Ghost knows all of them by heart. And he can’t hide a small smile of amusement whenever he hears you cussing angrily over spilled tea or shattered mug. And his favorites so far are ‘kurwa’ and ‘blyat’

Simon is a huge fan of your country’s cuisine! He’s a big man, so he requires proper nutrition. And all the delicious meals your mom cooks? He’s nomming everything to the last crumb! Simon is especially fascinated with a godly meal called “shashlik” - he is definitely a meat eater, Riley loves him a juicy steak freshly off the fire. And eating a meal that consists purely out of roasted meat - a paradise for him.

Captain John Price

Now, this man is most acquainted with all Slavic traditions of all 141 since he works closely with Nikolai, so throwing him off wouldn’t be that easy. But still, having an Eastern European partner does give him some unexpected experiences. For example, John is really surprised by how easily and lightheartedly you and your family joke about dark topics as death, physical traumas or alcoholism. And while everyone is rolling with laughter Price is like “What the fuck is wrong with you guys🧍🏻‍♂️”

If some of your relatives happened to speak English, John will do his absolute best to speak slowly and reduce his accent to minimum, so that they can understand him better. I think it’s just so sweet of him 🥺

What never fails to impress Price is that how much Eastern Europeans care about their appearance. In UK people don’t bother much about their looks, preferring clothes that are comfortable rather than fashionable. And seeing all these people on the streets wearing luxury brand stuff, women with full on glam makeup, their hair made elegantly - it makes him wonder just how much time and effort these people put into their looks. (He soon learn just how expensive and tedious that is once you two start dating)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

I’m pretty sure many Eastern European countries have this magnificent dish - meat jelly. Looks and sounds terrifying, true cultural shock for Kyle’s poor British soul. Or soup called Okroshka - even tho I grew up eating it, I still question its existence, no wonders Kyle gets absolutely weirded out by it.

Many Eastern Europeans, especially in small towns and villages, are very unfamiliar with people of color. It’s not because they mean ill, no, but simply because it’s very rare to see foreigners in such places. So, when Kyle came over to your home for the first time, all neighborhood was quite literally gawking at him. And Garrick, being more closed-off and shy person, was really unnerved by it. What especially set him off was when some random grandmas on the streets asked him “Whose are you?”😭

Oh and he loves, loves, loves when you spill the tea about your family members, sometimes even in front of this exact person bc they can’t speak any English. Sounds mean to do so, but Kyle is very eager to hear about all the drama, glancing discreetly at relative in question. Everyone thinks it’s so cute, watching you two cooing at each other in soft voices in a faraway corner, but in reality you two are just talking shit about everyone in the room😂

John “Soap” MacTavish

What Johnny likes the most about Eastern Europeans is just how generous they are, how they treat all guests with such kindness and hospitality. Usually, when Scottish/British/Irish person invites you for some tea - you do have tea and some sweets. In Eastern Europe though, if you are invited for some tea, you will be having a three meal course of delicious national dishes with incredibly tasty bakery for a dessert, and, of course, tea as promised. And afterwards they will also give you some food in a plastic container so you can take it home. Johnny was genuinely surprised by such warm treatment.

He remembers a lot of random words you say: names of different objects and foods or whole sentences like “turn on the lights” etc in your mother tongue. Johnny likes listening to you talking on the phone with your relatives, his ears perk up slightly whenever he catches a familiar word. But can he actually spell or write these words down? Not really. And if your language uses Cyrillic alphabet? Absolutely no. (This thought came to me based off @kivino’s hc’s)

When Johnny visited your home for the first time, he was actually surprised to see this stereotypical picture: a bratz doll gf and her shreck bf. He was also surprised by how unattractive most Eastern European men are, especially those in their 40s.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important for writers, give us some love and appreciation<3

[quicktosimp]

Forbidden Pleasure

Mating Season Day 03

Aonung/Human Reader

Visual for the genitals: here

Warnings: 18+, Humiliation, Degradation, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Rimming, Name Calling, Panty Sniffing, Face Sitting, Sub!Aonung, Mean!Reader, Aged Up

 “Aonung, no, leave it,” I scold, smacking his hand.

“Please, Syulang-”

“Nope, end of discussion,” I grabbed the basket I was weaving and moved over to the large group of women sitting next to Ronal, which would keep me away from this conversion for a bit longer.

I was tending to the Ilu when Aonung’s arms wrapped around my waist. Smiling, I lean back into his embrace. 

“Sumtsyìp, what are you doing?” Aonung asked, patting at my hair.

“Quite a lot of people ate the bad fish that was meant to be made into bait for fishing. Your mother and sister are tending to over 16 causes of food poisoning.” I explain as I put the basket of Ilu food down, “I just wanted to help around by taking over some of the chores of those who are ill.”

“So that’s why the healing marui was so busy. There are people waiting outside,” He mused.

I turn in his arms, reaching up to bring his face down for a kiss. As our lips meet, I feel his hands travel lower. I distract myself by biting at his lip, seeking entrance into his mouth. Aonung eagerly opens his mouth as I use my tongue to explore. Our tongues meet, tasting each other as his hands rest on my ass.

I break off glaring at him, “I said no,” backing away from him, picking up my basket, and storming off.

“Oh fuck, Nung!” I scream as Aonung eats me out, suckling on my clit.

He merely chuckles, before sticking his tongue into my open cunt, “Yes, yes, fuck yes,” I moan, grinding myself into his face.

Aonung’s large hands hold my hips up in the air, each hand covering my entire side; he rubs his thumbs on my navel. Slowly, he moves his hands. One hand now covers the expansion of my back, holding me in place as he fucks his tongue inside me. Aonung latches his mouth over my pussy and sucks. 

“Yes, yes, yes, oh!” I groan, feeling my climax near.

He moves his mouth so he’s just suckling on my clit, and pushes his thumb into my cunt, pulling downward as he thrusts it in and out. I know I’m gaping from how the ocean breeze enters my cunt. I feel flush from the humiliation as more slick drips out of my pussy. But the feeling of him rubbing my walls made it all worth it. I got lost in the feel of his thumb and mouth. I lean my head back and close my eyes, moaning as my high neared.

I was shocked out of my bliss by a finger rubbing my asshole. I jerk away from his mouth and glare at him, “What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?” I ask him scathingly.

I wrench myself out of his grasp and hastily grab my clothing, throwing my top and tewng on haphazardly. I grab some things for the night, “I’m staying at your parents tonight; don’t follow me,” I growl, storming out of our marui, leaving him there like a scolded puppy.

The walk to Tonowari and Ronal’s is a quick one. The beautiful water and gentle breeze did nothing to hinder my ire. I thought I was muttering quietly, but Ronal and Tonowari were waiting for me at the entrance of their marui. Tonowari looked concerned, worried that something could be wrong. Ronal simply looked at me and said, “My son’s being an idiot again,” It was not a question. It was a fact.

I release the sigh that has built in my chest, “Yes,” Ronal wraps her arm around me, leading me into their marui. 

Since they now only have one child living with them, they have downsized their marui a bit, giving it a cozy feel. My shoulders relax as I enter, always feeling at home here. We sit around the cooking fire, the embers casting a gentle glow. 

Tonowari hands me a cup of tea before asking, “Tell me, ‘Ite, what has our son done this time?” 

“He has forgotten what the word ‘no’ means,” I groan, sipping my tea.

“He’s interested in your waste hole?” Ronal sipped her tea, “Tonowari went through that as well.”

I sat there shocked, not expecting to hear that from my mother-in-law. 

“I-I think I forgot some fishing gear. I’ll be back.” With that, he fled the marui.

We sat there silently for a moment, simply drinking our tea while I had an internal crisis.

“Alright, now that he’s gone, let us talk more. Now, under no circumstances should Aonung be pushing you’re boundaries when you are not ready. But tell me, why are you so against it? Is it not normal for mates to explore one another fully?” Her voice was sincere. 

“It’s just gross. Why would he even be interested in that? It’s literally where my waste comes out. It’s dirty!” I bemoaned.

“I hear you, ‘Ite. I remember thinking the same thing when Tonowari and I were younger.” She starts softly, “Being young, I would not listen to a word he said. Instead, I would lash out verbally. It took Tonowari many moon cycles before he could get me to sit and listen to him, and I’m glad he did. Many people think that Aonung is my clone, but while he has my stubbornness, he is much like his father. Now, I am not saying he is right or will be right, but if you sit and talk with him, both hearing each other's words, then this can be pushed aside.” Ronal reaches across, holding my hand, “You are mates, a gift from Eywa. Trust in one another.”

“I-I will listen to him as long as he does the same for me,” I agree wearily.

Ronal smiled softly at me, “And that is all you should do,” She picked up her cup of tea, refilling it, “Now tell me, have you heard of what Lo’ak did with my grandaughter's hair?” She asked, scandalized. 

“I didn’t hear it. I saw it,” I explained, leaning forward, “I mean, it was so sweet that he tried to do a traditional Metkayina hairstyle, but now he’s going to be untangling hair for the next year.” I grimace.

I still stayed the night, needing the time to figure out what I was going to say to him. I was hoping to get an early start to the day so I could talk with Aonung, not wanting this mess to fester, only to be met with a frantic Lo’ak who still hadn’t managed to untangle my niece's hair. Thus began a long, long, very long process with a cranky four-year-old. The others went off to their duties as I continued untangling her hair; as a form of retaliation against Lo’ak, I taught her several English cusses, and I’m shipping her off with Jake on specific rules to tell Jake that her Daddy taught her. My niece, who is as petty as me, agrees with a cute little frown on her face, promising vengeance against her father. After many hours of detangling, her long hair was free, and she went off to Jake, screaming the word “fuck” repeatedly. 

Chuckling, I stood to my feet and wandered my way over to my marui, expecting to be alone for a bit, as Aonung would be far in the ocean by now. I continued my lazy stroll, waving at those I passed, petting the ilu who stopped by for attention, thinking carefully over my words for later. As I neared my marui, I stopped suddenly as I heard scuffling and deep noises inside. I grabbed a nearby stick, ready to chase out whatever decided to enter my home, and slowly crept inside. I brought my body around, facing where the noises were coming from, and what I saw nearly made me drop the stick.

Aonung was sitting there, his hand wrapped around his cock, and his face buried in a pair of my dirty lingerie that I wore last night. He alternated between licking on the fabric and sniffing it deeply as he thrust into his fist. I simply stood there, my jaw on the floor and my heart racing, torn between disgusted and turned on by his behavior. 

I decided that both was the best course of action as I slowly moved behind Aonung, who was still too distracted by my panties. He barely even moaned, too busy sniffing them and the sound of his wet cock as he continued to fit it roughly. 

“The fuck are you doing Aonung?” I muttered darkly.

He dropped his cock, as he spun around toward me, the panties still stuck on his face, “Sumtsyìp, please, I can-” He noticed the panties still on his face and ripped them off, “I can explain,” His eyes were wide and begging, and he pleaded with me.

I scoffed as I looked down at his kneeling form, “You think I care? I left last night because you won't listen, and now I come home and find you sniffing my panties like a whore,” I growled out.

Aonung was quick to stutter out, “I just needed your scent; I can’t cum unless I smell you,” He tried to explain.

By now, I was pissed, “You think I care? How many times have you done this?” I asked him, and the flickering of his ears and tail told me all I needed to know, “You’re the reason my panties keep getting holes in them! Seriously Aonung, first it's my asshole, and now pantie sniffing?” I ranted, enraged.

He looked at me confused, “A-ass-hole?” Unfamiliar with the tawtute term.

I sighed irritably, “My waste hole, but that’s not the point!” I exaggerated, “You’re sitting here acting like a whore while I’m actually working! I am trying to make things right with you, but you’re too busy thinking with your dick! You’re so fucking stupid! No wonder…” I trailed off as I noticed a pattern, and I decided to try and test it.

“You’re a fucking whore,” I growled, and his cock twitches.

“Such a slut. I’m surprised that you even have a brain to work with,” I sneered as his cock drooled.

I wanted to try it one more time, so I huffed, “Bet you’d rather stay home and beat your cock all day; seems to be all your good for slut.”

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that slipped past his lips as his dick continued to bob in the air. 

I gripped his braids tightly in my hand, forcing him to look up at me, “You fucking slut, you’re getting off to this,” I accuse him in a snarl. 

Aonung’s jaw dropped as he moaned deeply, “Yes.”

I throw him back the best I can, forcing him to lean back on his arms with his legs spread wide apart. 

“I cannot believe I mated such a slut, I dirty whore who can’t even behave,” I continued ranting as Aonung’s cock continued to twitch at my words.

Precum drooled from the lavender tapered tip as the spines along his cock twitched in the air, seeking any contact. I brought my foot up and rubbed at his cock, slick from how long he had been playing with himself. 

Aonung moaned as he rolled his hips into my foot, chasing the feeling.

“Look at that, my whore of mate is getting off on my foot,” I commented dryly, although I was intrigued, as my pussy became slick.

“Oh fuck,” He groaned, humming my foot.

I removed my foot as he was getting too into it, “Disgusting,” I snarled, spitting on his cock, only for it to weep more pre. 

And I realized that just maybe Ronal was right, “Lay down, flat on your back,” I demeaned, as I united my tewng.

Aonung scrambled to obey, laying flat on his back, looking up at me, his eyes wide and begging. 

I threw my tewng to the side, uncaring of where it landed as I stood over Aonung; I slowly crouched down and muttered, “You get one chance to prove yourself,” Before I sat on his face, my asshole over his lips.

I watched as Aonung’s eyes became wider before his large hands gripped my thighs, forcing my full weight on his face, making sure I couldn’t leave his hold. Then his tongue came in, literally. He licked up the expanse of my ass, making sure not to leave a spot untouched, before he focused back on my hole, using the flat of his tongue to lick there repeatedly. 

I couldn’t stop the moan as I grabbed his hair, steading myself, as his feverish attack on my asshole continued. The pleasure was different but still just as good, not that I’d tell him that.

“Fucking slut, my dirty slutty muntxatan,” I growled as I started to grind my cunt into his face, my clit gliding across the expanse of his flat nose, my pussy leaking everywhere on his face, creating a mess of my own.

Aonung whined into my asshole, sending vibrations to my core. Then, he decided to change tactics; he sucked on my rim harshly before pointing his tongue and poking it at my asshole. 

“Aonung!” I moaned as my head fell forward, his wet muscle seeking entrance.

He gripped my thighs harder, making sure I couldn’t move an inch as he kept poking and prodding at my rim, wearing my muscle down until his tongue slipped in. I gasped as his thick long tongue wiggled inside my ass. Opening in me in a way I never had before. I couldn’t stop my hips as I tried to bounce or grind on his face.

“Nung, Nung, Nung, fuck!” I squealed as my legs quaked around his head, “My Muntxatan is a dirty slut and is eating my ass,” I moaned as I barely believed it.

I could feel him whining underneath me as one of his large hands trailed to my cunt, his fingers quickly finding my clit, and rubbing slow, gentle circles, more teasing me than urging me to cum. I mewled at the increase in pleasure as sharp volts of pleasure traveled through me. I knelled over as I let Aonung do what he wanted, letting him ravish my asshole and play with my clit. My cunt clenched around, nothing but wanting to be filled, as a coil built in my core, wanting to release. 

“Aonung! Make me cum now, or this is the last time you get to do this!” I screamed at him.

Aonung recognized the threat that it was and quickly doubled his efforts, sucking on my rim as his tongue went wild inside my asshole, and his fingers moved deftly on my nub, causing me to scream out in pleasure. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I was unashamed as my muntxatan pleased me, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhh,” I screamed. I came, my legs shaking violently as my asshole and pussy clenched desperately. 

Aonung slowed his efforts, letting me ride my high gently, only stopping once I was twitching. He gently released my thighs, and I could see that those marks would last for days. He then slipped his tongue out of my ass, pushing me up gently as he breathed deeply.

“Did- did you- hold your breath- the- entire time?” I asked Aonung breathlessly as I climbed off his face.

Aonung shot me a shit-eating smirk, “You said I only had one chance, and I think I proved it well to you.”

I groaned and rolled over, laying on my side away from him. I could hear his chuckle before he wrapped me in his arms, holding me close. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of being held, when it suddenly hit me: something wasn’t poking my back.

“Aonung? Did you cum from eating my ass?”

I was only met with the sound of his tail thumping against the floor.

Taglist: @neteyamswillow, @loakstahni, @justcaptiannoodles, @coralpandasoul, @eywaite, @xylianasblog, @torukmaktoskxawng, @itchaboi-itchyboy

Dividers by: @cafekitsune